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Rabbi Mark |
To
Be or Not to Be a Desciple of Aaron?
Parshat Ki Teysa February 22, 2003 - 20 Adar Aleph 5763 By Rabbi Mark B. Greenspan Each morning we recite a passage at our daily Minyan that causes me to pause and consider my responsibility to the world around me. In it we ask to be included among "the disciples of Aaron the Kohen, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving our fellow creatures and drawing them near to the Torah." I've always wondered what it means to be a pursuer of peace and just how far we must go in attaining this goal. And in these frightful times when we are on the verge of war once again, I have to wonder what it means to be a disciple of Aaron the Kohen? Are we doing enough to love and pursue peace? On the surface of it, it sounds lovely. Who could argue with the idea of loving and pursing peace or caring about your fellow human beings? While we're never told to be like Abraham, or Moses, or any other character in the Bible, for that matter, we are told to emulate the qualities of Aaron. We're left with the impression that he must have been a very special man! So who was Aaron and what do we know about him? Aaron, of course, was the older brother of Moses and his life long confidant. During their sojourn in the wilderness, he became the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, and founder of the priestly caste. Anyone who is a Kohen, then, is a descendent of Aaron. And given recent genetic research, this would appear to have some basis in fact. We now know that all Kohanim (at least all the men) have a common genetic marker suggesting that they are all offspring of a single descendent. But that's not why our tradition reveres Aaron. According to the sages, Aaron is remembered because he was the quintessential peacemaker. Jewish lore is filled with stories about how Aaron found ways to reconcile feuding neighbors or disgruntled spouses. He was tireless in going back and forth between angry people in an effort to get them to make up and forgive one another. Sometimes this meant even using subterfuge and an occasional white lie to make both parties think that the other wished to apologize. So beloved was Aaron's efforts to promote peace that the people of Israel mourned his passing far more than they mourned the death of the sometimes stern and often rigid Moses. In Pirke Avot, then, we're told to emulate Aaron's peace loving nature. And we've even included this statement in Siddur Sim Shalom as part of the daily liturgy. As we read today's Torah portion, however, we see that Aaron was not quite what the sages made him out to be. As the man caught between Moses and the people of Israel, he played a crucial and one might say even disastrous role in the incident of the Golden Calf. When Moses was late in returning from Mount Sinai, the people became panicky and came to Aaron demanding that he create an image to replace Moses. Rather than argue with or rebuke them or at least calm them down, Aaron asked the people for silver and gold and he made them a golden calf. When Moses finally returned from Mount Sinai he was incredulous. How could his brother break the very commandments that the people had just received from God? The sages struggled with Aaron's lack of strength and will power. They suggested that Aaron had already seen the people kill one of his lieutenants, Hur, and that he was well aware that he could not deflect the mob from its evil intentions. The Rabbis argued that Aaron demanded that they give up their jewelry, thinking that the people would be reluctant to part with their wealth for this unholy project. They even suggested that Aaron offered to fashion the calf himself thinking that if he took his time and stalled, Moses would return before he was finished. All these efforts were to no avail. In the end Aaron allowed the people of Israel to worship the golden calf. In an effort to avoid conflict, Aaron caused something far worse. It is good to pursue peace but there are times when a leader has no choice but to stand firm and say "no." And there are times when we must stand up for what we believe is right even if it means we will bring the ill will and the hostility of the world down upon us. Looking at Aaron's dilemma, I wonder what choices we really have today. I'd like to think that I'm an "ohev shalom v'rodef shalom," "a lover and pursuer of peace." It wasn't so long ago that I found myself speaking out for peace and disarmament. I remember walking on a cold December morning (it was Shabbat) back in the seventies from my apartment on West Ninety Second Street in Manhattan to Times Square to be a part of a peace rally against the war in Vietnam. We believed that war was wrong and we joined with John Lennon and Yoko Ono as they sang, "All we were saying is give peace a chance." We believed that by asking America to withdraw from an unjust war we were pursuing peace and showing our love for our fellow human beings. It all seemed so obvious. But nothing is quite so obvious today. The world has changed and while no war is good, some conflicts may be necessary. At the very least we have to be willing to stand up for what we say. Even in the time of the Russian Missile Crisis, we assumed that the foe with whom we were bickering did not really want to cause a world war. But can we really say the same thing today? We are faced with an enemy whose word we can't trust and who's intentions we cannot discern. Worst than that, we also know that he has a history of performing unspeakable acts of violence and even genocide. So how does one love and pursue peace when ones partner is not a partner at all? I find myself caught between two images of Aaron. On the one hand, I see a man who was a tireless proponent of peace and compromise. On the other hand, I see a man who blindness to the world around him allowed him to nearly destroy his own people. Aaron refused to understand that peace at any price may only prepare the ground for future troubles. He was but the first in a long line of leaders who did not have the strength of character to stand up and take a stand when such a stand was called for. Maybe that's the whole point of the statement in Pirke Avot. We are not told to be like Aaron. We are told to be like the disciples of Aaron. The sages admired Aaron but they also recognized the limits of his point of view. We must do everything we can to promote and pursue peace. But we must also recognize that there are times when peace is not an alternative. In fact, one might say that one who truly values peace will also recognize when peace is no longer possible. There
is a verse which is found in our liturgy which states, "Adonai
oz li'amo yeten, Adonai yivarekh et amo bashalom." "May God
give his people strength; may he bless his people with strength."
I believe these are the words upon which we should be meditating and
praying during these frightful times. We must pray for peace. But we
must also recognize that peace that is not based upon strength isn't
really peace at all. Shabbat Shalom |
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