Parshas Ki Sisa 5780 – Special Coronavirus Post
So much of Judaism is accessed through carefully constructed systems. Our schools and our shuls, our rabbis and our teachers, our minyanim and shiurim. These are the systems we have painstakingly built to dispense spirituality in a streamlined and impactful manner.
What happens when there’s a breakdown in those systems? When the typical means of accessing kedusha is no longer available? Parshas Ki Sisa provides a cautionary tale on this very issue.
Moshe Rabbeinu was a spiritual access point that the entire nation came to depend upon. He was the communicator of Torah, the conduit that linked G-d and His people. And then, he seemed to have vanished. According to the Jews’ count, forty days had already elapsed since Moshe’s ascent to Har Sinai, and yet he was nowhere to be found. Feelings of despair were augmented by an apparition of Moshe’s death, conjured up by the Satan himself.
The Jewish People panicked. With the once reliable system for dispensing spirituality now upended, the Jews quickly descended into a very dark place. The hysteria of having no means to access holiness led them to idolatry. The zeal for idolatry begot murder. The morally unbridled behavior soon gave way to promiscuity.
This regrettable behavior provides us with a clear view of what not to do. What, then, should the Jews have done? They should have paused. They should have considered. Moshe Rabbeinu was unique; indeed, irreplaceable. The void left by Moshe’s departure could not be fully restored. But steps could be made towards effective spirituality, even in Moshe’s absence. Had they paused, had they calmly deliberated and assessed, solutions—however imperfect—could well have been found.
No more Moshe to teach us? Let’s look within our own ranks for the greatest available pedagogues. No more Moshe to convey the next word of G-d? Let’s seek out the best remaining nevi’im. No more Moshe to study Torah at the highest level? Let’s develop the next generation of scholars. When systems break down, we need to find new resources. Sometimes apart from ourselves, and sometimes within our very selves.
We are now living through a great breakdown in the systems we have relied upon for our daily spirituality. The institutions and framework we turn to for a steady stream of ruchniyus are no longer accessible the way they were yesterday. The response must be the one called for by this week’s parsha, the path unfortunately not taken by the Jews at Sinai, as hysteria gave way to an abandonment of Hashem.
This is a time to dig a bit deeper into our own reservoirs of ability and of commitment to Torah. The call is now made upon each of us to not be allowed to backslide simply because the landscape has changed. If minyanim are not an option, then we need to daven with even greater kavanah and passion. If live shiurim are canceled, then we need to push ourselves to maintain our schedule of learning and to do so with even more focus and intensity. If the in-person interaction that is the hallmark of community is suspended, we must make use of all that technology has to offer to remain connected and supportive of one another.
I implore you to not slow down, to not go on vacation from ruchniyus, simply because the usual modes of accessing it have been temporarily discontinued. Now especially is not a time for haphazard davening, for distracted learning, for a dearth of neighborly care and concern. Let’s maintain and even increase all these practices, even at a time when we will need to martial greater effort in order to do so.
With or without minyanim, let’s maintain the same times for tefilah and daven together as a community, even if physically separated from one another. Let’s maintain our shiurim and chavrusos by phone and webcast, and prepare a space ahead of time to learn distraction free and fully engaged. Let’s be mindful of the friends and neighbors we won’t be seeing in person and make the time to call and to connect.
May our renewed commitment serve as a Zechus for ourselves, Klal Yisrael, and all humanity.