Parashah Pinchas

14 Tammuz, 5771

While there are multiple interconnected story-lines going on here this week – another census with an eye on an upcoming battle(?), the Daughters of Zelophehad stepping up for some gender equality, and sensing his time is nigh, Moses picks a successor in Joshua – it’s the continuation of the Pinchas story that leaves a leaden ‘ugh’ in the pit of my stomach. I am not sure what bothers me more, that an over-zealous Jew thought the best way to handle sexual dalliances with another tribe was to get all pre-medieval on the offenders and, um, er, ah, well kill them or that God could look down upon this spontaneous summary execution and give it a thumbs-up blessing. Dude, good deal! Let’s talk priesthood for you and yours. Call me!

Here’s another disturbing detail – or lack thereof: We have no idea exactly what Simeon Zimri or his Midianite girl Cozbi were actually doing, do we? Had he brought her to the Tent of Meeting to meet the parents or were they working their way through the Kama Sutra inside that tent when they were interrupted? Either way, it’s disturbing to think that the most functional way to reach some sort of conflict resolution here was for Pinchas to shove a spear through their bellies. Nice.

I have found some discussions that spin Pinchas’ act as so much reactionary righteousness that not only manages to satisfy the indignant God (who just last week ordered mass impaling and sent down a plague that wipes out tens of thousands) but manages to keep the burgeoning nation from falling apart as they are about to enter Canaan. Um, really? Redemption through murder and execution?

But then I am examining an ancient text about an ancient people with modern eyes and sensibilities, which is no way to appreciate their topics, themes, and tones. While I have no way of really knowing why the Torah’s editors ultimately included this story, the functionalism-minded sociologist in me sees how the inclusion of Pinchas imparts to the ancient reader (and ancient critic) the passion HaShem can invoke in the Israelites. Dude, do *not* mess with us or we’ll get all Pinchas on you!   

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Meanwhile, from around the internet:

Tablet Magazine: In which columnist-blogger Liel Leibowitz deftly ties together the Daughters of Zelophehad and Queer activists who recently won Marriage Equality in NY and has to ask, if God can change God’s mind what is the irony that supposedly devout Republicans can’t. 

G-dcast: Have I mentioned here before how much I love this site? If I have a dozen times, I need to a dozen times more. So often they find not only a satisfying discussion on the week’s parshat but find the best voices amongst the Jewish community to be the weekly storyteller – or singer. (I was humming Naomi Less’s “The Ten Commandments – A Song of Shavuot”  for weeks.) This week they also focused on Mahlah, Noa, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah 

Punk Torah also discusses the fearless five.

Am I being *that* kind of convert?

Yesterday an acquaintance posted how she had found a bit of Jewish ancestry in her family history and changed her FB name to reflect that. I hadn’t even known she was looking and sent her a quick Mazel Tov reply and a small note to acknowledge her joy and mention my own conversion process. Her response was a measured (if not awkward) Er, um, thanks. I imagine her thinking, okay, we haven’t spoken in months, trade a couple of Facebook posts every now and then, and you felt the need to share this with me?

Of course, I’m reading a tone that I can’t possibly know via the Internet and am totally projecting my own insecurities as a convert onto her eight word reply - just as I was totally projecting my feelings onto her original announcement. This has given me reason to pause and wonder, uh-oh. Shit. Am I being ‘that’ kind of convert? You know, the one who just can’t stop talking about her process, who finds joy in the more commonly shared aspects of her new experience, who wakes up with ‘Miriam’s Song’ in her head, who wants to absorb so much she might as well write Sponge under "Occupation" on her tax return, go from Zero to Psalm 150 in 3.5 seconds. Not fanatical or even obsessive, but rather a state-of-being just shy of ‘Ecstatic’.

I think about the amount of attention I give my Judaism. A few minutes devoted to prayer in the morning, blessings for the new day, maybe some more to my self-driven Hebrew lessons (that is, if I’m not feeling particularly intimidated by Bet, Pei versus Fei and all the sofit forms).During the day I try to incorporate A Jewish way of thinking informed by my evolving awareness of Jewish values. The latest ishes of Tablet Magazine, Jewish Journal and New Voices get dropped off in my email. If I have the time I’ll give them scan and post the more relevant pieces. In the afternoon I say the Amidah (again, if I remember). I try to always give blessings at meals but yeah, often I don’t realize until halfway through the salad.

On Sundays I realize the majority of my neighbors are going to their house of worship; for them the week won’t begin until tomorrow. Shavua Tov! Sometime around Wednesday I’m thinking about Shabbat on Friday, Torah Study on Saturday morning.

Admittedly it’s more than this. I feel like my Jewish awareness is slowly rising like the new dawn over the horizon, its light shining upon things I would never have contemplated so deeply before. Like Israel and the Middle East or looking at the world through the lens of tzedakah and tikkun olam. Like contemplating the word ‘chosen’ from a dozen different perspectives. Like feeling my heart weep when I visited the New England Holocaust Memorial and anger over how the country of my birth spurned European Jewish refugees, sending them back to their likely deaths, during World War 2. Like how uneasy and annoyed I feel when someone will describe a blizzard as a ‘snow-ocaust’.

All of which leads me to wonder if my simchat is too much simchat, and if so, by whose standards am I making that judgment? By my FB acquaintances? By my real-life friends, some who seem to look a tad uncomfortable when I remind them I can’t go to their Friday night protest or party? By my Catholic family’s? Or am I simply measuring this by the yardstick of my own insecurities?

A friend back in New York once gave me these words of advice: something becomes a problem when it adversely affects your life. I sometimes worry if said "something" has become so huge as to have taken over my life, would I even know it? Or would I be oblivious until I see (or imagine I see) the cringing wince in someone else’s face?

I like that I’m excited about my spirituality. It’s been years (if not decades) since I found such joy in relating to the universe. I am attracted to Judaism in its many forms for many reasons. It’s new. It’s bold. It’s encouraging and challenging. It’s adventurous. It’s Life-affirming, spirit-enhancing and soul-supportive. It’s joyful and dance-able. What better an evolution/ revolution in my life?

Will I always feel this way about it? I don’t know - that concern I will let go and Let G-d. Let me cross that bridge when I come to it, and when I do may I face it with grace, serenity, emotional knowledge and love.

And, of course, as a Jew.