This week’s Torah portion, Behar, contains some of the most radical concepts in the entire Torah. It includes the rules for the sabbatical or shemittah year, when the land was given a rest from formal planting and harvesting, and all agricultural laborers had the entire year off. The laws of private property were relaxed, so that anyone (especially those who did not own land themselves) could come onto anyone’s land to gather the food that grew naturally. Debts were forgiven, and indentured servants were given their freedom as well.
The portion goes on to describe the sabbatical of sabbatical years – the Jubilee/Yovel in the 50th year, when not only would the land and the workers be given a rest, but any household that had lost their land in previous generations (usually by falling into debt) would have their family’s original holding returned to them.
While we don’t how or if the Jubilee was ever practiced, as an ideal it is an amazing imagining of a society that, every few generations, would correct the inequalities in wealth and income that inevitably creep into an economy based on land ownership. Some people would have to let go of wealth they had enjoyed, while others were restored to the land that had once belonged to their ancestors. This Torah portion comes to remind the Israelites that they do not, in fact, own the land. Rather, the land belongs to God, and they are tenant farmers on the land. To live on the land securely they must follow these laws, which provide for the annulment of debt, the release of indentured servants, and, every few generations, a radical re-ordering of the entire economy.
Rabbi Arthur Waskow has suggested that these laws are described as a kind of Shabbat because they allow structures of dominance and control to “rest” every seven and every 49 years. This “rest” allows the entire society to imagine an economy that is not centered around production or profit. And at the same time, the Torah also seems to accept that this might not be possible every year, or every decade. The realities of human greed, of relations of hierarchy and exploitation, are difficult to eradicate entirely. To counter these realities, Behar suggests periodic mechanisms to address those limitations, and to re-set.
The gap between our ideals and our reality was on display in regards to our own movement over this past week. On the celebratory side, the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College ordained 11 new Reconstructionist rabbis last Sunday (including Koach Baruch Frazier, whom we hosted as a scholar in residence last year, and the new rabbi of Hillel Bnai Torah, Aliza Schwartz). Mazel tov!
Unfortunately, the graduation was marred by an opinion piece, published in The Forward that weekend, by two former students at the college, who decided to withdraw because of what they experienced as a hostile environment due to their strong Zionist commitments. While I am not able to comment on these individuals’ experiences as I do not know them personally, I do know that the College was, and remains, a very diverse place, with faculty and students who hold a broad range of views on Israel/Palestine. While I feel badly that the writers of the op-ed felt unwelcome in such a space, it is unfortunate that the Forward’s publishing of their piece feeds into the binary that is infecting so much of the greater American Jewish community, in which one is Zionist or anti-Zionist, pro-Israel or pro-Palestinian, and that the “other” is at best ignorant or uncaring, and at worst an enemy.
This unfortunate reality is in contrast to what I consider the idealism of our movement, which at the moment is one of the very few places in the broader Jewish community (and perhaps in the broader American society as well) committed to remaining a “big tent” when it comes to Israel/Palestine. I would highly recommend this piece that the leader of Reconstructing Judaism, Rabbi Deborah Waxman, wrote in response to the earlier op-ed. In it, she beautifully articulates what I think we are trying to also do here at CDT: to refuse to draw red lines and instead remain in covenantal relationship with one another, even when our disagreements run deep. Like the Jubilee, this is very counter-cultural. And even when we fail in our attempts to create a space that feels welcoming to all, I am proud that we are making the attempt, and pray for the guidance and wisdom to continue on a path that rejects binaries, that strives to hold complexity, and that honors all of our experiences, even those which bump up against the experience of another. May we continue to strive to imagine a different kind of reality, not only on the ground in the Middle East, but here in our own communities.
With blessings for a Shabbat of joy, liberation, and peace,
