A Quick Torah Thought

 An every day occurence, a person finds something most banal - a pen, a forgotten package of pasta, in my case, yesterday, pizza spice), and he or she doesn't know to whom it belongs. Something that nobody would come back and claim, or seek to find (well, at least almost nobody).  Yesterday, while waiting for an intercity bus, I saw a package of pizza seasoning - brand name "Pereg" in case you lost it, behind the bus stop, 1540 (to be exact), and didn't know what to do with it. It had clearly fallen from somebody's shopping bag, plastic perhaps, or maybe it was flannel, but lo and behold, it had found its resting spot, on the floor, sideways at the foot of a highly trafficked bus stop, where no fewer than 5,000 people pass on a given day.  So what do you do, halachically? What does Jewish law dictate?  I've been trying to get a clear answer, and so I asked three different rabbis. Now, the gut response is it's yours. What, then, if it were a diamond ring? O...

 A few years ago I saw a fascinating blurb in the newspaper about a judge who had thrown out a case about a policeman who had given a jaywalker a ticket. The fine, on the face of it seemed to be legitimate in every respect; the man had indeed jaywalked, crossing a busy intersection, dashing through traffic. The problem: the policeman had been placed there for that very purpose, to catch jaywalkers. The judge, in a very refreshing - and candid - rebuke of the police said that the police's job was to prevent people from coming into harm's way. The policeman had been derelict in his duty by not preventing the pedestrian from crossing the street, and therefore the ticket and the fine were thrown out, the police receiving a severe rebuke.  In light of this week's parsha, Korach, I would pose a similar question. Moshe Rabbeinu, having seen Aharon's sons, Nadav and Avihu, engulfed by heavenly flames for having brought the incense, a foreign and unwanted gift, why then did he i...

 To be perfectly honest, I always thought that the "sin of the spies" was clear cut, and required little further research or investigation. The spies had badmouthed the land, when they were supposed to come back with an uplifting, dramatic report of imminent victory, coupled with the land's greatness. It seems though – as the Ramban writes himself – that the matter is not as pat and clear as would meet the eye. Having been commanded to appraise the land, the 10 naysayers did just that; they sized up the situation, weighing the costs and benefits, and advised Moshe and Aharon and Sanhedrin to reconsider their impending attack. Why then, the Ramban asks were they punished so severely. The Ramban's answer is lengthy, with many stages and presumptions that seem difficult to accept according to the simple meaning of the text. For example, the Ramban writes that the spies were commanded to respond as to whether the land was good – and bring back fruit – so as to show ...

Was God being merciful or strict in meting out punishment to Miriam? Why is it that the roles seem to be reversed here, as opposed to so many other biblical narratives? God is typically the taciturn judge, whose mercy has to be piqued. As Avraham pours his heart out praying for the people of Sodom and Gomorrah, God gives pithy brusque answers. When Moshe prays to enter the land, at some point God says, "You've prayed enough," denying his request.  The biblical model more than anything seems to be fire and brimstone, the existential imperative being for man to beseech God to no more and no less than get down from the tree, temper His anger, and cool His "flared nostrils," so that man can be worthy of God's blessing.  Why is it then, that in the case of Miriam God seems to become the defense attorney? Moshe seems to expect the worst - the death penalty. Leprosy has literally in Aharon's words, consumed her whole body. Moshe implores God,  “O God, please he...