On Passover, we took our guests on a tour of the Old City of Jerusalem. After praying at the Western Wall, one of the resident panhandlers at the entrance to the women’s section called out to my daughter: “Come here, come here…give tzedaka and I’ll give you a blessing…” My daughter tugged my hand and I pulled in the other direction. “Come. Mommy, the woman wants to give me a blessing. Why don’t you want to?” I sensed her innocent desire to respond to the tempting offer, and she sensed my incomprehensible resistance. I was pained that I left the Kotel with a sour feeling. I had to provide my daughter with an immediate explanation for my refusal. I said that I did not want her to accept a blessing from just anyone.

Now, reviewing parashat BeHukkotai, I am powerfully reminded of that experience, and it makes me angry. How did that beggar have the nerve to hand out blessings and red strings for five shekels? By what right did she transform my experience of holiness into an experience of the devaluing of the concept of blessing?

The parasha completes the legal code of Leviticus with a long list of blessings and of curses. Sometimes, it is not easy to listen to the blessings and curses and identify with the idea that good behavior earns reward, while deviation from God’s commandments requires immediate punishment.

I decided to examine the roots of the concept of blessing. Professor Umberto Cassuto was of the opinion that the original meaning of the term “blessing” was the granting of a Divine boon in appreciation of the sacrifices that a person offers to God as part of the ritual of worship. The person blesses God and expresses gratitude, reverence, love, and praise, and God blesses the person with His presents. In this situation, the blessing forms a substantive part of the discourse between man and God. Divine and human blessings that share the same name, but that are essentially different in nature, form the elements of that relationship.

 Cassuto further notes that “the belief, based upon the idea of the magical power of speech, that blessings and curses – particularly curses – proceed from God and are actually realized was common in the ancient East” (“Berakha” in Ha-Encyclopedia Ha-Mikra’it, vol II, 354). Cassuto finds biblical evidence of this belief among the Israelites and other nations, but notes that this concept runs contrary to the biblical religious conception that “it should not be imagined that human speech might have the power to cause something that is not God’s will, since good and evil proceed only from Him.” Thus, it would appear that, in effect, blessings among people are merely prayers or expressions of hope that God might act in accordance with the blessing.

When is a blessing meaningful? When does it leave a lasting impression upon us? Perhaps it is when the person who blesses us plays an important role in our lives, when it is someone who looks into our eyes and sees our true desires, and when it someone who speaks words that resonate within us.

Sometimes I feel that we are living in an era in which blessings have become a cheap commodity. I sometimes long for the days long ago when, perhaps, words had greater weight, or as Heschel put it:

Marvelous and beautiful is life in the body, but more marvelous and more beautiful is life in a word. The word is greater than world; by the word of God all was created. The Book, Scripture is an everlasting constellation of holy words. When a good man dies, his soul becomes a word and lives in God's book  (Abraham Joshua Heschel, Moral Grandeur and Spirituality Audacity, p. 373).

If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments, I will grant your rains in their season, so that the earth shall yield its produce and the trees of the field their fruit. (Leviticus 26:3-4)

1. Whom do these verses address? We read in Ethics of the Fathers:
“Antignos of Socho received the tradition from Simon the Righteous. He would say: Do not be as slaves, who serve their master for the sake of reward. Rather, be as slaves who serve their master not for the sake of reward. And the fear of Heaven should be upon you” (Avot 1:3).

2. Many biblical verses refer to the “rewards” that Israel will receive if it observes God’s commandments. How could Simon the Righteous make this statement, and what is wrong with hoping that serving God will positively affect one’s family and self?

3. Can a person observe the commandments without expecting some benefit? Does such an expectation run contrary to human nature?

4. Why employ the imagery of slavery? Israel is often portrayed as God’s servants, but does this truly reflect the nature of the religious experience that we hope to achieve? Does Abraham Joshua Heschel’s description of man as God’s partner better reflect our spiritual yearnings?

5. Does this imagery of slavery conflict with our sense of human dignity?

Professor Yeshayahu Leibowitz clearly distinguished between “Torah for its own sake” (Torah li-shma) and “Torah that is not for its own sake.” Leibowitz uses the first two chapters of the Shema in order to demonstrate the distinction:

A. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might…

B. If, then, you obey the commandments that I enjoin upon you this day, loving the Lord your God and serving Him with all your heart and soul,  I will grant the rain for your land in season, the early rain and the late. You shall gather in your new grain and wine and oil…

According to Leibowitz, these two chapters are substantively in conflict:

“It would seem that, in the realm of faith, a more profound clash than that between the first and second chapters of the Shema is unimaginable …the duty to love God is presented in this chapter as an absolute demand set before man…there is not the slightest mention of any benefit that might accrue from obeying this commandment…”
 
As for the second chapter, Leibowitz argues that it represents an attempt to convince man to observe the commandment for utilitarian reasons. The two contradictory chapters are presented together because some believers are capable of performing God’s will with no anticipation of reward, while others are not (Yeshayahu Leibowitz, Emunah, Historiah ve-Arakhim, 11-13).

1. Do you agree with this view?
2. Does it disparage the faith of most people?
3. Is such a clear distinction overly simplistic?