Rabbi Freedman’s Shabbat Message

If I were to say to you that Parashat Chukkat contains one of the most momentous turning points in the entire Torah, it might elicit a rather surprised response. True, it contains a long chapter on the ritual of the Red Heifer, through which Jews in ancient Israel could be purified from contact with the dead; it also refers to an episode where Moses demonstrated petulance by striking a rock in contravention to God’s command – and for this he was forbidden to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land; the sidra also describes fierce battles with some of the neighboring nations and how sections of the people continued to complain about their living standards; finally the sidra reports the death of Moses’ two siblings, Aaron and Miriam. These are all significant stories – but it was to none of these that I refer.

Instead let me quote Numbers Chapter 20: 1:

וַיָּבֹ֣אוּ בְנֵֽי־יִ֠שְׂרָאֵ֠ל כָּל־הָ֨עֵדָ֤ה מִדְבַּר־צִן֙ בַּחֹ֣דֶשׁ הָֽרִאשׁ֔וֹן וַיֵּ֥שֶׁב הָעָ֖ם בְּקָדֵ֑שׁ וַתָּ֤מָת שָׁם֙ מִרְיָ֔ם וַתִּקָּבֵ֖ר שָֽׁם:

In this verse we are informed that the entire people entered the wilderness of Zin and that they abode in Kadesh. We are even given the month of their arrival. The verse concludes with five brief words announcing the death of Miriam. On the surface, there is nothing here that is extra-ordinary – until one reads the commentary of Rashi. Troubled by the phrase כָּל־הָ֨עֵדָ֤ה the entire congregation when the verse has already used the expression בְנֵֽי־יִ֠שְׂרָאֵ֠ל the Children of Israel, Rashi suggests that these two words convey additional information:

כָּל־הָעֵדָה. עֵדָה הַשְּׁלֵמָה שֶׁכְּבָר מֵתוּ מֵתֵי מִדְבָּר וְאֵלּוּ פֵרְשׁוּ לַחַיִּים

The phrase כָּל־הָ֨עֵדָ֤ה implies the people who were about to enter and conquer Canaan, excluding those whom God had previously decreed should die in the wilderness. That entire Egyptian-born generation had now passed away and only those born after the Exodus remained alive.

Rashi observes that exactly the same words כָּל־הָ֨עֵדָ֤ה reappear in verse 22 and he expands on his original comment that the generation who had left Egypt were condemned to die in the wilderness preventing them from entering the Promised Land:

וַיִּסְע֖וּ מִקָּדֵ֑שׁ וַיָּבֹ֧אוּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל כָּל־הָֽעֵדָ֖ה הֹ֥ר הָהָֽר
They travelled from Kadesh and the entire congregation of the Children of Israel arrived at Mt. Hor. (Numbers 20:22)

Comments Rashi:

כָּל־הָֽעֵדָה. כֻּלָּם שְׁלֵמִים וְעוֹמְדִים לִכָּנֵס לָאָרֶץ, שֶׁלֹּא הָיָה בָּהֶן אֶחָד מֵאוֹתָם שֶׁנִּגְזְרָה גְזֵרָה עֲלֵיהֶם, שֶׁכְּבָר כָּלוּ מֵתֵי מִדְבָּר וְאֵלּוּ מֵאוֹתָן שֶׁכָּתוּב בָּהֶן (דברים ד’) “חַיִּים כֻּלְּכֶם הַיּוֹם”

All of these people (born in the wilderness) were complete in their righteousness and hence were destined to enter the Promised Land; among them was not even one of those upon whom it had been decreed that they should not enter the land; those who were condemned to die in the wilderness had by now passed away, exactly as written in Deuteronomy 4:4: “But all of you who held fast to the Lord your God are still alive today.”

The decree by God to allow only a post-Exodus generation to enter Israel was a direct result of the lack of faith demonstrated by the Israelites when the meraglim (the spies) returned from scouting out the land, a story that was read in the sidra of Shelach Lecha. It is inferred that while one could take the Israelites out of Egypt – one could not remove Egypt i.e. a slave mentality, out of the Israelites. So it was that 40 days of spying translated into 40 years of wandering, during which time an entire generation died out. This verse from Numbers 20:1 quoted above, is therefore, the turning point when the last of one generation passed away. The end of Numbers 19 and the beginning of Numbers 20 – is not just one verse but a gap of 37 years – in the words of Rabbi Alan Kimche it is a kind of ‘black hole’ where one generation dies out and a new one is born. Up until this point in the text, we have been dealing with the first two years since the Exodus and now suddenly and without any additional information – the text is speaking of the 40th year of the wandering in the wilderness.

Right here in the middle of Parshat Chukkat we find generational change.

This led me to consider what this means generally in society and if there is any difference in the Jewish world. I found the following definition on line: A generational shift refers to the gradual transformation of attitudes, behaviors and societal norms as one generation succeeds another, often leading to changes in aspects of culture, commerce, the family and technology. Generational shifts are driven by various factors: geopolitical, technological, economic, political and societal. In the past 80 years we have witnessed a series of such generational shifts from the Baby Boomers, Generation X, Millennials (or Generation Y) through to Generation Z.

Ideally, the coexistence of multiple generations promotes diversity, resulting in a broader spectrum of viewpoints and experiences. This diversity fuels creativity and contributes to a more innovative and dynamic society. However, generational shifts can lead to ideological conflicts, competition between the generations, at times a feeling of resentment and perceptions of unfair advantage. Misunderstandings follow, which in turn leads to conflict within society. The younger generation has difficulty in building wealth – older people are squeezed out of the workforce, their hard-won skill-sets of little use in the rapidly changing world – anger and envy is the natural result. New styles in fashion and music, together with changing patterns of behavior in regard to the family or sexuality are welcomed by one group, even as they are rejected passionately by the other. The distance between generations has widened in recent years, as woke education has introduced new concepts treated by the young as an ideology, yet considered by the old as vacuous ideas that have the potential to destroy everything that they and their predecessors created. One feels at times that this is not so much a clash of generations, but a clash of civilizations.

In Judaism there appears to be a totally different emphasis – best expressed by the words לְדֹר וָדוֹר ledor va-dor which translates as ‘from generation to generation’; it signifies a respectful relationship between young and old, the passing down of knowledge, of learning, the application of traditions, and the acceptance of time-honored values from one generation to the next. These concepts are deeply ingrained in Jewish tradition, emphasizing continuity and the responsibility of maintaining cultural heritage. Put simply, לְדֹר וָדוֹר refers to connection, rather than disconnection between generations, for the purpose of sustaining the customs, heritage, and collective memory of the Jewish people.

The phrase לְדֹר וָדוֹר and its variants are found many times in the Tanakh, as well as in our liturgy. Three times a day in אַשְׁרֵי (Psalm 145:4) a Jew is expected to say:

דּוֹר לְדוֹר יְשַׁבַּח מַעֲשֶֽׂיךָ וּגְבוּרֹתֶֽיךָ יַגִּֽידוּ
One generation commends your works to another; they tell of your mighty acts.

Similarly the Chazan in his repetition of the Amidah declares:

לְדוֹר וָדוֹר נַגִּיד גָּדְלֶֽךָ וּלְנֵֽצַח נְצָחִים קְדֻשָּׁתְךָ נַקְדִּישׁ
From generation to generation we will declare Your greatness
and proclaim Your holiness for evermore.

After every meal, Jews remind themselves: הָרַחֲמָן הוּא יִשְׁתַּבַּח לְדוֹר דּוֹרִים May the Compassionate One be praised from generation to generation, but the most famous example of all is recited on Seder night in a text that reflects the eternal challenge of Jewish survival from one generation to the next.
וְהִיא שֶׁעָמְדָה לַאֲבוֹתֵיֽנוּ וְלָנֽוּ. שֶׁלֹא אֶחָד בִּלְבָד, עָמַד עָלֵיֽנוּ לְכַלּוֹתֵנֽוּ. אֶלָּא שֶׁבְּכָל דּוֹר וָדוֹר עוֹמְדִים עָלֵיֽנוּ לְכַלּוֹתֵנֽוּ. וְהַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מַצִּילֵנוּ מִיָּדָם
It is this promise that has stood by our ancestors and by us. For it was not one person alone who stood against us, but in every generation they stand against us to destroy us – and the Holy One blessed be He saves us from their hand.
Written, therefore, into the fabric of Jewish life is an understanding that our work is not mono-generational but multi-generational. Only through the relationships cultivated between parents and children, teachers and students, can Judaism’s vision of a world of morality and holiness, of justice and peace, be finally achieved. Is this not what the rabbis taught in Pirke Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers? Rabbi Tarfon’s teaching is a clear indication that the sages did not believe that redemption could be achieved in a single generation.

רַבִּי טַרְפוֹן אוֹמֵר הַיּוֹם קָצָר וְהַמְּלָאכָה מְרֻבָּה
Rabbi Tarfon said: the day is short while the workload is great.

Nonetheless, he reassured each one of us:

לֹא עָלֶיךָ הַמְּלָאכָה לִגְמֹר וְלֹא אַתָּה בֶן חוֹרִין לִבָּטֵל מִמֶּנָּה
Even though it is impossible to achieve everything in a single lifetime,
that is no excuse to sit back and do nothing.

With all this as a backdrop, intergenerational conflict has no place in Jewish life. Inter-generational development by contrast is the way forward – where one group builds on the achievements of the other. Just as the Tannaim, who compiled the Mishna, led to the Amoraim, who composed the Talmud, just as the mystics of Safed were the precursors to the Chasidim of Eastern Europe, just as the early 19th century chalutzim were the pioneers who inspired the great Zionist leaders of the 20th century, so we too bear a heavy responsibility to advance Jewish life as taught to us by our parents, and ensure that it is received with enthusiasm by our children.

No book in all of Jewish literature reminds us more clearly of the dire need to transmit lessons forward than Kohelet, the Book of Ecclesiastes.

דּוֹר הֹלֵךְ וְדוֹר בָּא וְהָאָרֶץ לְעוֹלָם עֹמָדֶת׃
Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever.
(Ecclesiastes 1:4)

Reminded of the inevitability of our own mortality, we have no option but to find a way forward to ensure that generational change is something positive, something meaningful, dare one say – something holy. Perhaps it is not so strange that there is barely a gap in the text of the Torah as we traverse 37 years of Jewish history, from one generation to the next – for perhaps this is the primary message that the distance between one Jewish generation and the next, unlike secular society, should be imperceptible, unremarkable, uncontentious – simply the natural result of a conversation between two parties: one seeking to teach, the other to learn, the means by which we as a species can progress and succeed just a little better than those who went before us.

Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi David Freedman