Chukat 5771

Rabbi Gustavo Kraselnik

Congregacion kol shearith Israel

Immersed in the stories describing the difficulties entailed by life in the wilderness, the story of the Brazen Serpent appears almost at the end of Parashat Chukat.  It recants the last uprising of the people during their sojourn in the desert.

 

According to the Torah, while bordering the land of Edom, the Israelites complain to God and Moses over the shortage of bread and water, and the bland taste of the Manna:  “… our soul loatheth this light bread” (Num. 21:5).

The Lord’s answer comes almost immediately.  The “fiery” or “embracing” serpents (it is not clear whether the term describes the serpent or designates a special kind of ophidian) attack the people, who then repent and ask Moses to “pray unto the Lord” to end the punishment.

 

God tells Moses to make a serpent and place it on a pole, so that “every one that is bitten, when he seeth it, shall live”, and Moses complies, building one out of bronze, which turns out to be the best cure for snake bites (21:8-9).

 

No wonder this story arouses concerns all around.  What do we know about these “fiery serpents”?  Was the miracle that they appeared or rather that they had not acted before?  What’s the relationship between the people’s offense and the punishment?  Is there a tie between these serpents and the famous one of Adam and Eve?  Rabbinical and medieval exegesis abounds with answers.

 

Nevertheless, in my opinion, the greatest question refers to the healing, almost magical power of the Brazen Serpent.  Were people cured just by looking at the bronze serpent?  The Mishnah (Rosh Hashanah 3:8) poses the same question and offers the same answer used to explain the triumph in battle produced when Moses raised his arms (Ex. 17:11):  “When Israel turned their thoughts above and subjected their hearts to their Father in heaven, they were healed…”  To the Tanaites, the Bronze Serpent was not a lucky charm, or an amulet, but a means to entrust themselves to God.  It was here that its real power lay. 

 

However, to the people’s perception, the symbolism propounded by the rabbis was, at the least, utopian.  The Bronze Serpent became an object for worship.  Thus it is told by the biblical text itself, when commenting that King Hezekiah (Kingdom of Judah, end of the 8th century, beginning of the 7th century bCE), in an attempt to abolish idolatry, “broke in pieces the brazen serpent that Moses had made; for unto those days the children of Israel did offer to it; and it was called Nehushtan” (2 King 18:4).

 

The Etz Chaim Chumash (edited by the Conservative movement), on its analysis of Parashat Chukat, brings up Hezekiah’s decision and discusses it, looking sideways to our own reality:  “Religion often runs the risk of having people who grant too much holiness to one of God’s instruments and lose sight of God, to whom such instrument is directed.”  The Brazen Serpent, created to help perceive the divine presence, became an object of worship itself.  That is idolatry.

 

Along those lines, the Meshech Hochmah (Rabbi Meir Simcha HaCohen from Dvinsk, 1843-1926) justifies Moses’ act of breaking the Covenant Tablets: when he saw the Israelites dancing around the golden calf, the leader assumed that the people would similarly worship the Tablets, without paying attention to their content.

 

For the Torah, idolatry is the main threat to the faith of Israel.  Its definition, however, is much wider than just worshiping objects or the making of images, as is often stated in exaggerated features by the Torah itself.  We see idolatry, much more subtly and currently, even within the expressions peculiar to tradition, when we transform means into ends, when we grant magical power to the rituals, or when we value form above content.  The examples in our surroundings (and in ourselves) are too obvious.

 

Right in the 21st century, idolatry keeps adulterating the integrity of our faith.  Its eradication, in all its forms, is our challenge as well.

 

Shabbat Shalom, 

 

Gustavo