Torah

To be honest, I had never heard of Charlie Kirk until he was tragically murdered. But I have since learned that he was a staunch defender of moral values and of Israel. He used his natural abilities to reason and debate in order to engage in open dialogue and conversation, something so lacking yet necessary in contemporary society.

The day had finally come. For months, I had been trying to meet this famous sage, renowned not only for his wisdom, but for his beautiful, majestic physical appearance. I had heard the stories, but I wanted to experience it for myself. After what seemed like an eternity, I was finally able to get an appointment.

He had been waiting for hours, and it was finally his turn in line. He could barely contain himself. He had so many questions for this wise sage, so many thoughts on his mind. As he sat down, he could actually feel the sage’s presence, his gentle, thoughtful eyes peering deeply into his own. Suddenly nervous, he managed to smile and stammer out a greeting. The sage sat in perfect silence and then, with deliberation and intent, said, “It is such a pleasure to meet you.”

There was once a public debate between a rabbi and an astrophysicist regarding the nature of our universe. The astrophysicist, representing the atheist perspective, confidently approached the podium and began addressing the audience: “I don’t know much about Judaism, but I believe I can sum it up in a few words: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” With that, he went on to detail how physicists could now adequately explain the nature of our universe without the need for religion.

Years ago, I read about a student who told his history teacher that he was jealous of George Washington. The teacher asked him if he was jealous of all that George Washington had accomplished as an enduring leader, remembered for his integrity and as the founding president of the United States. The student replied that it had nothing to do with any of that. He was jealous of George Washington because he didn’t have to sit in a boring American History class, since American history wasn’t “invented” yet.

In our previous article, we began exploring the fascinating story of Pinchas. Throughout the Torah, there are many heroes with awe-inspiring ascents to greatness. When we think of Moshe, we picture a burning bush, a dramatic confrontation with Pharaoh, and a spectacular splitting of the Yam Suf. When we consider Avraham, we imagine a man thrown into the flames, undergoing bris milah at the age of one hundred, and the willingness to sacrifice his designated son on the altar. However, when we think of Pinchas, what do we see? The image is hazy, evoking conflicting emotions and begging for explanation.