Divrei Torah - Guests/Members

In this week's parsha, Shlach Lkha ("Send for yourself"), we read about Moshe sending twelve spies into the land of Canaan, the despair-inducing report ten of them relay upon their return, the contrasting hopeful report that the other two give, and the divine consequences dealt to Moshe and his people as a result of losing their faith and succumbing to their fears despite what God Itself has promised them. The parasha concludes with various instructions regarding the consecration of offerings, a story of a man who desecrates Shabbat and is stoned to death as punishment, and the mitzvah of wearing tzitzit.

This parasha holds great personal significance to me, in part because of the verses I chanted, which are also incorporated into our liturgy. In a translation I've slightly adapted from our siddur, Kol Haneshama, it reads: "Hashem told Moshe: Speak to the Israelites — Tell them to make themselves tzitzit upon the corners of their clothes, thorughout their generations. Have them place upon the corner tzitzit a twine of royal blue. This is your tzitzit. Look at it and remember all the mitzvot of Elohim, and do them so you won't go off after the lusts of your heart or after what catches your eye, so that you remember to do all my mitzvot and be holy for your God. I am Hashem your God, who brought you from the Narrow Place to be for you a God. I am The Infinite, your God." 

Over the past year or so, tzitzit have become central to my spiritual practice and my connection to the Divine, especially with my Sephardic custom of tucking in my tzitzit rather than having all of them visible, which I've found creates a sort of tactile-sensory reminder for myself of my covenant with the Divine. It was truly an honor and a delight to have these verses be the first that I've ever chanted from the Torah. However, that discussion is actually not what I want to offer to you all today. As much as I love this parsha, the actual heart of my connection to it is through its haftarah, or the selection from the Prophets which accompanies the Torah portion: the story of Rachav, the Canaanite harlot of Y'richo, in Joshua chapter 2 verses 1-24, which you can find if you turn to page 856 of the Etz Hayim.

The haftarah connects to the parsha primarily in the way each story begins: the current Israelite leader sends out spies to perform a reconnaissance mission in the land of Canaan. Rahab's narrative begins very shortly after the completion of the Israelites' 40-year sojourn through the wilderness and the death of Moshe, as they prepare to invade and conquer her homeland. As an "inn-keeper" – realistically, meaning a prostitute – she lived in the outer courts of the city of Jericho (her home was actually inside of the wall, according to Joshua 2:15), in the area that would be targeted first if another nation were to attack, a housing situation that speaks to her low social status. The two spies sent out by Joshua seek refuge in Rahab's inn; she recognizes them as Israelites, and when the King of Jericho learns of their presence and orders her to produce them, she chooses to protect them by hiding them in the flax drying on her roof. After saving them by pointing the King in the completely wrong direction and sending him on a wild goose chase, Rahab tells the spies that she knows their God and the miracles It has performed in Mitzrayim, and that she has made the decision to defy her homeland in acceptance of Elohim their God. In an allusion to the Pesach story, the spies instruct her to tie a cord of scarlet crimson to her window as a marker that the Israelite invaders shall leave her home standing and spare her family inside in exchange for protecting the spies. The haftarah ends with the spies escaping the city through her window and reconvening with the rest of the Israelite army. Next, in Joshua chapter 3, the city walls are brought down in a dramatic, divinely-aided spectacle, and while Rahab is not directly mentioned again in the Tanakh, scholars generally agree that she and her family successfully assimilated into Israelite society after Israel overtakes the land.

Why did Rahab do all of this? Was it the manipulative self-preservation of blackmailing the spies to ensure her own safety, or had she been genuinely drawn close to the presence of the Divine Light? Did she feel any form of guilt in betraying her fellow Canaanites, or was her loyalty unquestionably to the Israelites, as though she had always known that they were her true people? Did her encounter with the spies catalyze her desire for a relationship with the Divine, or had she always had that faith, simply waiting for the right moment to act? 

Some would argue that Rahab is an unsavory character, but for me, the evidence points to the notion that her intentions were pure. A fantastic resource called the Encyclopedia of Biblical Personalities, an anthology of Talmudic, Midrashic, and Rabbinic writings about practically every character in the Tanakh, has a great insight about Rahab's intentions that I really love. It teaches that when she made the decision to betray Canaan and assist the Israelite spies, G-d had drawn her close to It but did not yet put her into a chosen position, quote, "for she first had to make an attempt to draw herself near to G-d and was later assisted by [It]," end quote. Rahab is born into a nation known in the Tanakh for their idolatry, and she practices prostitution for the majority of her life. Despite these circumstances that would normally warrant death in the ancient Israelite society (like we saw in our Torah reading today when an Israelite was stoned to death by the community simply for gathering wood on Shabbat), she actively builds a relationship with G-d and makes decisions according to the beliefs that she developed independently; she initiates the relationship, and it's only after she does so that she is provided the opportunity to use her actions for a divine purpose. 

Another book that was wonderfully helpful for my research on Rahab was Reading the Women of the Bible by Tivka Frymer-Kensky. She writes: "Rahab the whore is the outsider's outsider; the most marginal of the marginal. She is the quintessential downtrodden from whom Israel comes and with whom Israel identifies. Just as her pious behavior reverses expectations of how prostitutes act, so her elevation is a reversal of the normal expectations for a prostitute's future." The fact that it's her, above anyone else the authors of the Nevi'im could have chosen, speaks loudly and clearly about her genuine love for Hashem and Its people.

On a personal level, I absolutely love Rahab! To me, she is the most admirable and influential character in the Tanakh, and I've been very much looking forward to taking this time today to share why I think she's so special. Rahab's story is one in which she must take the first leap of faith with earnest, authentic purpose; in that way, she is the epitome of an ambitious and dynamic woman. Scholars believe that she was about 50 years old at the time her story is told, and was a harlot/inn-keeper for the vast majority of her life. Her display of confidence in her own decision-making is striking, and the courage that it must have taken for her to enter a dangerous profession and simply do what it took to survive for so much of her life is unmatched. The Sages also teach us that Rahab was one of only four extraordinarily beautiful women in all of history, claiming that she incited arousal for all simply by the mere utterance of her name. The root of her strength as a character, especially in this time period, is equal-parts her beauty as much as it is her resolve; these traits of hers are not mutually exclusive as we often see in media and elsewhere in our society, but rather they compound upon one another, forming something more powerful than they could possibly be when expressed separately. 

As a Jew by Choice, Rahab teaches us that every person, regardless of birth status or circumstance, must make a choice every day for the type of life they wish to lead. Whether one is a member of a faith-based group, a community that is held together solely by shared experiences of marginalization, or any other group through which we humans categorize ourselves, each of us must actively make the choice in every moment either to continue as we are or to turn down a different path. In the moment when it mattered the most, Rahab chose to turn away from all she had known and walk a new path of true spiritual gratification, and she continued to make that choice every single day that she lived among the Israelites as one of them. Immense empowerment can be drawn not only from the choices she made, but also from the astounding resolve with which she made them. Rahab is evidence that each and every one of us has the power to choose our own life (at least to a certain degree), provided we have the faith. 

Analysis of the text from another angle reveals that Rahab's name has what I find to be a really interesting dual-meaning. With the original Hebrew spelling in the Tanakh of reish-chet-vet, Rachav's name means vast, wide, expansive, unrestrained, and limitless; and it is one of the Hebrew words for the Abyss. According to Frymer-Kensky, the association with breadth and broadness is "emblematic of God's inclusion of the many and of the permeable boundaries of the people of Israel." However, if the chet is replaced with a hey so that it is pronounced Rahav (as it is typically anglicized), the meaning changes to that of pride, arrogance, and insolence; it is also the name of a Leviathan-like sea demon from Jewish folklore as well as a poetic way to refer to biblical Egypt. This dichotomy is what first drew me to Rahab, and it was for these reasons that I chose Rahab as my Hebrew name when I sent myself out on a journey of discovery, on my own mission of reconnecting with my lost Sephardic heritage. It is likewise for these reasons that I have adopted the use of a two-part first name, Rahab Hiram, in my daily life. Both of these names that collectively make up this new first name of mine are equally important to my identity: "Rahab" represents my personal, chosen, and individual connection to Jewish peoplehood, and "Hiram" represents my connection to my Jewish lineage, as it was one of the names that was passed down among the men in my family until the annihilation of Salonikan Jews during World War II, at which point my ancestors' Jewish kinship was severed until now.

As I briefly wrote in CDT's November 2022 newsletter, Alistaire will always be my name, and it will never be incorrect to call me by it. No matter how others gender or otherwise perceive me, "Alistaire" is indisputable: it's me, complete and absolute. However, as I consider my future and my deep love of Judaism and Jewish learning, I now equally treasure my new chosen name of Rahab Hiram. I use it in my virtual attendance at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, where I am studying half-time to complete my Bachelors degree in Jewish & Hebrew Studies. I use it in my communications with the Hebrew College rabbinical school, where I hope my path will lead me in a few years' time. And now, as of this moment, I am officially transitioning to the use of Rahab Hiram at Dorshei Tzedek.

I want to thank you all for allowing me to stand before you here today as my whole, authentic self and to share some of my passion for the character of Rahab. I also would like to express my profound gratitude to my family and to everyone in the CDT community who has held and supported me during this ongoing journey. I hope that you will all take some time to consider and appreciate your names, your origins, and your chosen family, whether or not that family is the same as your birth family. May you all feel the freedom to, at each and every moment in your life, make the choices that are the most genuine to the calling of your neshama, your soul, especially when you don't have anything to go on but faith and resolve alone. May you take to heart the lessons of Rahab, the impoverished prostitute woman who chose her own faith, and find the courage to push through when you feel you must and then to rest when you come to realize that you already have all you've been searching for.

Buen Shabat and Shabbat shalom!