Blasphemy, and "all those who have heard" it!
Buried at the tail end of this week's parasha, Emor, there appears a short story about a blasphemer -- that is, one who pronounces God's name in an inappropriate way and is then sentenced to death. The full text appears in Leviticus 24:10-23, which you can click here to read. Meanwhile, here is the narrative portion of the story only (I've removed some intervening lines of legal material):
"There came out among the Israelites a man whose mother was Israelite and whose father was Egyptian. And a fight broke out in the camp between that half-Israelite and a certain Israelite. The son of the Israelite woman pronounced the Name in blasphemy, and he was brought to Moses—now his mother’s name was Shelomith daughter of Dibri of the tribe of Dan—and he was placed in custody, until the decision of Adonai should be made clear to them.
And Adonai spoke to Moses, saying: Take the blasphemer outside the camp; and let all who were within hearing lay their hands upon his head, and let the entire community stone him... Moses spoke thus to the Israelites. And they took the blasphemer outside the camp and pelted him with stones. The Israelites did as Adonai had commanded Moses."
I'm sure I have seen this story before, but it feels totally unfamiliar to me as I read it again this year. It's such a curious text, and one which evokes so many questions. (For example, this story leaves me wondering: How does the insider-outsider identity of the blasphemer feature into his actions and to the community's reaction? What exactly constituted his sin of blasphemy?: what was the content of what he said, the context, and his tone/intention? I'm also shocked by the raw violence of this community-must-pelt-him-with-stones death sentence! And why are laws inserted into the middle of the story, breaking up the narrative flow?)
I would love the opportunity to study this text together with a group of you and unpack all of this -- with a close reading, line by line and word by word -- some other time! At the moment, though, I want to draw your attention to one particular detail that has especially captured my interest this year. It's in the middle of the verse that reads:
הוֹצֵ֣א אֶת־הַֽמְקַלֵּ֗ל אֶל־מִחוּץ֙ לַֽמַּחֲנֶ֔ה וְסָמְכ֧וּ כׇֽל־הַשֹּׁמְעִ֛ים אֶת־יְדֵיהֶ֖ם עַל־רֹאשׁ֑וֹ וְרָגְמ֥וּ אֹת֖וֹ כׇּל־הָעֵדָֽה׃
"Take the blasphemer outside the camp, and let all who were within hearing lay their hands upon his head, and let the entire community stone him."
"Let all who were within hearing lay their hands upon his head." What does this phrase mean and what are we to learn from it?
Most of the commentators seem to think that the laying on of hands is about affirming and emphasizing the blasphemer's guilt. Quoting Sifra (an ancient midrashic text), for instance, Rashi imagines the "shomim" ("those who heard" the blasphemy) saying to the blasphemer accusingly: "Your blood is upon your head; we do not deserve punishment on account of your death, for it was you yourself who brought it about" (click here to read this commentary). Similarly, in his "Modern Commentary on the Torah," Israeli scholar Adin Steinsaltz comments: "It is the witnesses' duty to designate him for punishment" (click here to view).
As I encountered (or re-encountered?) this odd story myself, though, I find myself reading this line almost oppositely! Just two weeks ago, when we read Parashat Acharei Mot, we encountered in Leviticus a text about the ancient Yom Kippur ritual. You may be familiar with the story there of the two goats (after all, we read it each year not only as we encounter it in Leviticus in our regular Torah cycle, but also as the Torah reading for Yom Kippur Day): one goat that is designated to be sacrificed, and another that is sent into the wilderness bearing the sins of all the people. I had the chance to study that piece of Torah recently with a Bat Mitzvah student (Elle M.) -- here is the verse in question (Leviticus 16:21):
וְסָמַ֨ךְ אַהֲרֹ֜ן אֶת־שְׁתֵּ֣י יָדָ֗ו עַ֣ל רֹ֣אשׁ הַשָּׂעִיר֮ הַחַי֒ וְהִתְוַדָּ֣ה עָלָ֗יו אֶת־כׇּל־עֲוֺנֹת֙ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל וְאֶת־כׇּל־פִּשְׁעֵיהֶ֖ם לְכׇל־חַטֹּאתָ֑ם וְנָתַ֤ן אֹתָם֙ עַל־רֹ֣אשׁ הַשָּׂעִ֔יר וְשִׁלַּ֛ח בְּיַד־אִ֥ישׁ עִתִּ֖י הַמִּדְבָּֽרָה׃
Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat and confess over it all the iniquities and transgressions of the Israelites, whatever their sins, putting them on the head of the goat; and it shall be sent off to the wilderness through a designated agent.
As Elle and I discussed, in the Yom Kippur ritual, it is explicit what this laying on of hands means, and what effect this action has. When Aaron places his hands upon the head of the second goat, he transfers the sins and wrongdoings of the entire people of Israel onto the goat. When the goat is subsequently sent away into the wilderness, the goat carries all of these sins away, giving the Israelites a chance to start over anew from a place of forgiveness and with a clean slate. (Yes, this is precisely the origin of the concept of a "scapegoat": one who is blamed for the wrongdoings, mistakes, or faults of others.)
Having examined this line of Acharei Mot so recently, I can't help but notice now that here in our verse about the blasphemer, the language is nearly identical. "V'samchu et y'deihem," "they [those who heard the blasphemy] laid their hands upon his [the blasphemer's] head" is exactly the same construction and indicates the same action as "v'samach et shtei yadav," "he [Aaron] laid his two hands upon the head of the goat."
If we understand our text (the blasphemer story) as being parallel to the goat story, what might this laying on of hands mean? Could our Torah portion be implying that -- while the blasphemer is the primary culprit (after all, it is he who is ultimately stoned) -- some degree of guilt and culpability also lies with "kol ha-shomim," "all those who heard" his blaspheming words?! What sin or wrong-doing have those-who-heard committed, such that they too need to undergo a ritual of atonement and/or purge what they have heard from themselves? In my reading of it, the Torah seems to be planting the idea that, even without saying a word themselves, "those who have heard" have somehow not only witnessed but also imbibed some of the toxic blasphemy that swirls around them. Some piece of blasphemy continues to live in them too, unless and until they can purge themselves of it!
Today, we find ourselves in a moment when terrible language -- ugliness and extremism -- is rearing its head. Perhaps it's not all "blasphemy" in a technical sense, but we are certainly feeling a rise in virulent speech all around us that, like blasphemy, is offensive, violating and ultimately dangerous! We can find examples of this toxicity in calls to violence coming from both extreme ends of the political spectrum, in conspiracy theories, in attacks on our democracy, through the repetition of lies and falsehoods, and through antisemitic language expressed both overtly and subtlely. As we move about in our lives at this moment in time, we can't help but hear these sound-bites, read the messages scrawled on mailboxes, and see the hateful graffiti and signs all around us. It is human nature that when we consume these messages with regularity, they lose their shock value and we become conditioned to them. What was once not normal becomes normalized; the Overton Window shifts, where violent language is concerned.
The story in our Torah portion focuses mostly on the blasphemer himself -- on his background, his action, and the (extreme) consequence he ultimately faces for his crime. But, reading this passage with a focus on the laying-on-of-hands helps to center "kol ha-shomim," "all those who hear." All of us, and our society as a whole, have the capacity to absorb some of the ick-factor and become tainted by inappropriate and awful language. We know well from our history that there is a direct connection between violent language and violent behavior. (I'm thinking, for example, of how the assassination of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin in 1995 emerged from a swirl of extremist rhetoric, how the "Jews will not replace us" chants from Charlottesville in 2017 helped fuel the shooting at Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh the following year, and countless other examples.) In an essay called "Shibboleth" (in the May 5, 2024 issue of The New Yorker), Zadie Smith makes the point that "in the case of Israel/Palestine, language and rhetoric are and always have been weapons of mass destruction."
This rise in problematic language is happening in terrifying ways all around us. On the University of Washington's campus here in Seattle just this Wednesday, students and faculty woke up to graffiti everywhere. This included calls to violence ("Save a life, kill your local colonizer," "By any means necessary"), and even the street addresses of certain individuals scrawled on walls (invitations to go their homes and do what exactly?). In a letter to the campus community from UW President Ana Marie Cauce, acknowledged:
"This morning our campus community arrived to their classrooms and work spaces to see offensive graffiti across multiple buildings all over campus, some quite clearly both antisemitic and violent, creating an unwelcome and fearful environment for many students, faculty and staff, especially those who are Jewish. Much to my dismay, given the relatively cordial tone of many of our discussions, the representatives also said the new graffiti is an intentional escalation to compel the University to agree to their demands."
Cauce's letter lists some of the demands she finds most unreasonable and untenable, and draws clear lines about what UW will and won't do. I applaud her efforts to walk a fine line between encouraging free speech and making it clear that toxic hate speech (and also defacement of university property, violence, etc.) is unacceptable (and gosh, I sure wouldn't want to be a university president right about now!). The offensive graffiti has already been quickly removed from UW's campus. I am certain that it does not represent the views of all of the students who have been living in the on-campus protest encampment, many of whom, I have no doubt, simply want to see an end to the mass-casualty war in Gaza. Still, this week's Torah portion has me thinking not only about the few who may have put that graffiti there in the first place, but also about everyone who walked by it, who has seen the images in the newspaper or on social media, or who has read about it. I can't help but wonder what having taken in these hate-filled words has done and will do to the other protestors, to the rest of the students and faculty and staff on campus, to the Jewish community, and to the public at large.
It is hard to know what we can do when we feel the "temperature" of scary rhetoric rising. I certainly don't advocate taking the story in our parasha literally and imposing a death sentence on anyone! But, several ideas in our Torah portion's story of the blasphemer may help us arrive at some conclusions:
Offensive and hateful speech must be taken seriously. Whether it's blasphemy or incitement to violent action, we must use the tools at hand to call out dangerous language when we see and hear it. In our neighborhoods, our workplaces, our schools, and in the community at large, we need to be brave and normalize speaking up and speaking out when something isn't right!
The laying on of hands by "all those who have heard" reminds us that all of us are carrying some of this taint with us, even if unwittingly. Acknowledging this helps to make the invisible visible. Only by naming it can we begin to talk about this problem -- our societal desensitization to dangerous rhetoric, the shifting Overton Window -- and problem-solve together about how to address it.
The language of "kol ha-shomim" ("all who hear") and "kol ha-eidah" ("the entire community") emphasize that we are part of a collective. None of us can solve these societal problems alone, and none of us should even have to face them alone. It is critical to put ourselves in the company of others who also see and hear what we do and are willing to be in it together. At a time like this, community-building is more important work than ever!
As I've said before, we are weathering a hard moment in time, and it may well be the case that things are going to continue to get worse and harder before they get easier and better. Let us work together, honestly naming what we are seeing, reading, and hearing that horrifies us. Let us commit to calling out hateful language and rhetoric that paves the road to violence (the blasphemy of our day) to the best of our ability. Let us find strength and power in community.
May our words bring us only closer to one another and to all that is holy and good in this world.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum
