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The modern mystic, Rabbi Lawrence Kushner, teaches through his poem On Angels and Messengers: “Each lifetime is the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle…. But know this. No one has within themselves All the pieces to their puzzle… Everyone carries with them at least one and probably Many pieces to someone else's puzzle…..” Sometimes the truths found in the Torah seem as if they don’t fit our section of the puzzle, as if they belong to someone else’s sense of reality. In this week’s Torah portion we are presented with one of the most troubling concepts in Judaism: reward and punishment. The section of the text that I chose to read lists the rewards for following the statutes and commandments of God reported by Moses. What I omitted was the long list of calamities that await 1 those who disobey. Although the concept of reward and punishment has been a tenet of Judaism for a very long time, it is one that has made the rabbis and sages uncomfortable for almost the entire time. It makes some of us uncomfortable, too. The Book of Job is, of course, the most articulate biblical refutation of the premise that the wicked suffer and the good are blessed and of its chilling corollary: that if one is suffering, one must deserve it. The arguments set forth in Job make it crystal clear that Job does NOT deserve to suffer. The only reasonable conclusions to draw from this daring treatment of the subjects of reward and punishment and divine justice are a) in our world, sometimes truly good or truly innocent people suffer and b) our perspective is too limited to see the whole picture. But in Job’s day, whenever that was, the first conclusion—that the innocent suffer, too—was so radical that it began to erode the underlying belief in 2 reward and punishment that was also clearly biblical and, worse, it undermined people’s sense of justice and fairness. Like Abraham, we began to raise the question: should not the Judge of Righteousness deal rightly? Mishnaic and Talmudic sages tackled the problem with their usual sensitivity and creativity. Clearly, in this world, anyone could see that the wicked didn’t always suffer and the good didn’t always earn rewards as promised. Indeed, the opposite was often observed to be true. Those of you who have read As a Driven Leaf may recall the experience of Elisha ben Abuya who was so distraught at witnessing this terrible truth that he became an apostate, leaving Judaism to immerse himself in Greek culture and philosophy, about as far as one could get from Judaism in his day. Seeking to find justice in God’s world despite evidence to the contrary, the Rabbis posited the 3 existence of the world to come, a non-biblical concept that served to extend the statute of limitations on recompense for human actions so that the books would balance. Under the cruel oppression of the Romans who resorted to torture of the most brutal sort, there arose the notion that the good who suffer in this world experience no punishment at all in the world to come. Or, at least they build up a credit and only suffer proportionately. The wicked enjoy the fruits of this world but suffer dreadfully in the world to come. Thus the rabbis salvaged God’s justice and the concept of reward and punishment. For some people, this notion is necessary. It provides the motivation necessary to carry out the chukim that have no rational explanation and the mitzvot that might otherwise seem counter to their own self interest. Fear of eternal unnamed punishment frightens them where desire of reward might fail to keep them on the right track. 4 But there have always been people who do not respond to this method of procuring their loyalty. This piece of Torah does not fit their picture, no matter how comforting it is to someone else. Like the ancient sage Antigonos of Sokho, they say "Be not like servants who serve their master upon the condition of receiving a reward, but be like servants who serve their master without the condition of receiving a reward" (Avot 1:3). Many modern Reform Jews would tweak even this saying to read, “Be not like partners who care only about their half of the company; rather be like partners who look out for the health of the whole company. It doesn’t take an ancient sage or even a later philosopher to inform us that mature people do the right thing because their integrity urges them to do so, not because they fear punishment or because they desire reward. Knowing the parameters and particulars of what the right thing is, is a source of 5 comfort and a basis of strength from which to begin to act. Many truly religious people—and I include the members of this congregation in this set—identify that integrity with something Divine that works from within us. When we are true to that inner voice, we are at peace and bring peace to our world. When we reject its urging, we are discontent or worse and cause distress in our world. Our Torah portion today describes the peace and the distress that we bring upon ourselves and our world when we follow or reject God’s instructions. Whether we take the description literally and subscribe to a world view in which God metes out rewards and punishment, or whether we understand the passage metaphorically and use it to bolster our sense of spiritual or social or emotional health doesn’t matter. When we align our deeds with our sense of what is right, the result is strengthened integrity. We improve our sense of what is right by 6 studying the principles laid out for us in the Torah and learning to identify what is to be acted upon and what is to be avoided; what is to be accepted and what needs to be wrestled with: This is what Beverly has done. As she mentioned, the fact that the text excludes women riled her. Rather than reject the whole Torah and kick over her Judaism because of the surface level of the ancient text, she dug and wrestled and found herself on a deeper level of meaning. What floats right past us at some points of our lives splashes cold water in our faces at others. And what we embrace as life affirming at some times strikes us as mean-spirited at other times. Thus, we grow with the text and the text grows with us. That’s the true reward of Torah l’shma, Torah study for its own sake: growth. Growth in sensitivity, growth in integrity, growth in holiness. May we all earn the rewards of continued study and struggle: may we grow in insight and understanding. 7 8