Spies, Sins, Assumptions

Rabbi Joel Fleekop

Saturday, June 17, 2006

The National Institutes of Health reminds parents of the importance of setting punishments appropriate for their child's developmental level. As an example, the site explains that sending a toddler to their bedroom for a time out lasting more than 5 minutes is probably not that effective because by the time the punishment is over, the child may have totally forgotten the reason the punishment was given in the first place.

The Jewish people, with more than 3,000 years of history, are certainly no longer toddlers. But just like the imaginary 2 year old described on the NIH's web page, it seems that occasionally we too sometimes forget what prompted a particular punishment

As Michael mentioned earlier, much of this week's Torah portion deals with the spies sent by Moses to scout the land of Israel. Parshat Shlach L'cha tells of their return to the Israelite camp, describes the spies' impressions of the land, and the way the rest of the Israelites reacted to what they heard. Many of us, even before hearing Michael's speeches, might have remembered that the spies' actions resulted in the people being forced to wander the desert for 40 years. But what exactly did they do to deserve this punishment?

If you don't remember there is a good reason for that. The Torah doesn't tell us. It seems that with so much focus given to the punishment, the specifics of what the spies did wrong in the first place was forgotten, or at least not recorded.

Fortunately the rabbis offer some suggestions.

One explanation is the telling of lies. Michael's dvar Torah taught us about different types of lies and argued that under some circumstances lying can actually be a good thing. While that may be the case, the lies told by the spies fall into the category of bad lies. According to Sforno, a 16th century Italian rabbi, the spies were punished for deliberately exaggerating the physical size of the inhabitants of the land.

Rashi doesn't disagree with the fact that the spies lied but, relying on the midrashic tradition, offers another explanation for the Israelites' punishment. By reading Numbers 13:31 not as "Hazak who mimenu" but rather "Hazak who Mimeno," Rashi argues that the spies reported not that the people inhabiting the land were stronger than the Israelites, but that they were stronger than Adonai, a report that would certainly qualify as blasphemy.

Finally, Nachmanides teaches that the mistake the spies made was that they did not understand their role. Their job was to scout out the land of Israel and objectively report on what the saw. Instead, Nachmanides argues, they offered commentary including phrases like, "we cannot attack those people" and it is a land that devours its setters." With a report like this, Nachmanides argues, it was no surprise that the people would lose confidence in their ability to conquer and live in the land.

While lying, blasphemy, and bias reporting are all things to be avoided, perhaps the most compelling explanation is found in the Itturei Torah, a collection of Hassidic teachings. Commenting on the phrase "We looked like grasshoppers to ourselves and so we must have looked to them" Itturei Torah asserts that one of the biggest sins committed by the spies was believing that they knew how others saw them, a mistake so great that it prevented an entire generation from reaching their goal of entering the promised land.

Thinking that we know how others view us can also keep us from reaching our goals.

Congregation Shir Hadash works very hard to be a welcoming community and we think this is how people see us. After all we encourage people to wear name tags, we begin our Friday night services by inviting anyone who is visiting to introduce themselves, and we have an entire committee dedicated to connectedness.

We hope people see us as welcoming but if we become too sure of this we might forget that this is not everyone's experience. Some people might find the close friendships of our members to be clique. Others might be uncomfortable because some of the melodies we use are different than the ones to which they are accustomed. Whatever the reason, some people will not initially feel welcome.

And so it is important that we not assume that our welcome is enough, because if we do, we will never reach our goal of making everyone feel at home here in the congregation.

Of course, believing that people see us the way we want them too is not the only thing that can jeopardize achieving our goals. As was the case with the spies in this week's Torah portion, sometimes we handicap ourselves by assuming people see us in a negative light.

This was certainly the case with the prophet Jeremiah. According to the midrash, Jeremiah was so convinced that the Israelites would hate what he had to say, and so sure of the fact that they would make fun of him for being a descendant of the harlot Rahab, that he initially refused God's calling to be a prophet. Though Jeremiah did eventually acquiesce to God's calling, he was without a doubt one of the least popular prophets. Perhaps his unpopularity was, at least in part, caused by the barriers Jeremiah created for himself by assuming that others would not like him.

What assumptions do you make about how others see you?

Do you presume that people will see you as being either too old or too young for a particular job? -- Too serious and nerdy or too silly and immature to be a friend? -- Too tall, short, skinny, or pudgy, to be attractive?

Are those assumptions always accurate? And does making them come at a cost, restricting the way you interact with others, placing stumbling blocks along the path to your goals?

How many more doors would be open to you if you did not assume you knew how others view you?

In its guidelines for discipline, the National Institutes of Health point out that when the child no longer remembers why he or she is being punished, the punishment has ceased to be effective in teaching a lesson. Ironically, it seems that this week's Torah portion, by not telling us what caused the Israelites punishment, has succeeded in teaching many lessons. By not telling us what the spies did wrong, Parshat Shlach L'cha has motivated generations of Jews to wrestle with the text and search for their own answers.

I hope that as we study the wisdom of our tradition we learn from their many conclusions, recognizing the harm caused, by lying, blasphemy, and bias reporting. Most of all, I hope and pray that Michael, his friends, and all of us learn from the mistakes of our ancestors, and avoid punishing ourselves by assuming we know how others perceive us.