Parashat Ki Teitzei 5768

When liberal Jews are asked to define why they believe some Torah laws must be rejected, while others, such as laws of justice and respect, remain piercingly relevant, we often site a verse from this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Ki Teitzei:

If a man has a wayward and defiant son, who does not heed his father or mother and does not obey them even after they discipline him, his father and mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his town at the public place of his community. They shall say to the elders of his town, “This son of ours is disloyal and defiant; he does not heed us. He is a glutton and a drunkard.” Thereupon the men of his town shall stone him to death. Thus you will sweep out evil from your midst: all Israel will hear and be afraid.

“You see,” cries the triumphant Torah reader, “Obviously, this does not happen anymore. So, why should we keep ________________ [fill in the mitzvah].”

What may be surprising to us is that the ancient rabbis react to this verse quite similarly to the contemporary Torah reader. The rabbis of the Mishna went to great lengths to reinterpret these verses; explaining that the text refers only to a son and not a daughter, that it only refers to a three month period of time in the son’s life, that the son cannot be deaf, that the son cannot be mute, that the son must have both a mother and a father, and so on. The Babylonian Talmud goes on further to narrow the scope of possibility until the criteria for a “wayward son” are almost non-existent. At this point, the Talmudic Rabbis do not stop. Rather, they proclaim, unequivocally, “‘A stubborn and rebellious son,’ there never was and there never will be such. Then why is it written? To teach, ‘Study and receive the reward’” (BT Sanhedrin 71a).”

What are the ancient rabbis suggesting, here? The rabbis never outright reject a Torah verse with which they are uncomfortable. Rather, they reinterpret it and reinterpret it until it barely resembles its original character. They squeeze sweetness and goodness out of many of the most troubling verses. They wrestle blessings even out of violence and pain.

As the saying goes, “where there is a rabbinic will, there is a halakhic [Jewish legal] way.” When the ancient rabbis wanted to reform a verse, they stopped at nothing to do so. This text-wrestling was considered a sacred duty. And, I believe, it was never intended to end.

We, in liberal Jewish communities, should never cede our responsibility to continue wrestling new blessings out of ancient texts. For the rabbis (and for us), the law of the wayward son was deeply troubling. If we look into the heart of this week’s Torah portion, we see other such laws that bring us discomfort (e.g. captive women brought into an Israelite’s home, prohibitions against men and women wearing clothing of the opposite gender, etc.). Instead of shutting us off to Torah, these verses should be doorways in. For, when we encounter a verse that brings us pain, it becomes our duty to create comfort for others.

Let us return briefly to the final words of the Gemara text I cited earlier, “Study and receive the reward.” When we challenge existing assumptions and make Torah a living document in our lives, we remind ourselves that all around us in our world are established ways of doing and being that need overturning, as well. When we become menders of our text, we remind ourselves to be menders of our world.

On this Shabbat, I invite you to engage in a little text-wrestling of your own. Who knows what blessings you might find.