Timeless Torah

Individuals have a way of creating their own lines of demarcation. A young man or woman might categorize their lives into two periods; “before leaving home for university versus after leaving home.” For someone moving up the corporate ladder, the different stages could be, “the days one was an employee vs. the time one finally became the employer.”

In my personal scenario, B.C. has for a long time meant Before Coral Springs vs. C.E. standing for Coral Springs Engaged. (Author’s note: It is my hope and belief that our new Synagogue will provide another milestone to be forever inscribed as B.C., Before Construction vs. C.E., Construction Ends.)

But to get back to my story. In the historic days of B.(efore) C.(oral Springs) I was a Yeshiva bochur studying for my Rabbinical ordination. In Hebrew, this achievement is formally known as S’micha, a term directly borrowed from the Biblical verse, “Hashem said to Moses, ‘Take Joshua son of Nun, a man in whom there is spirit, and lean (v’somachto) your hand upon him.”

During this period in my life, a popular pun among my fellow classmates was to connect this Divine directive with the commandment found in our Parsha concerning the sacrificial offerings. “He shall lean (v’somach) his hands upon the head of the burnt offering.” Too often we imagined our teachers bemoaning their fate, when after completing all of our exams, they were compelled to confer upon us the title, Rabbi. The only consolation we could jokingly offer was that even the Torah occasionally dispensed S’micha to unintelligent beasts.

All jesting aside, the placing of one’s hands upon one’s disciple is figurative and not to be taken literally. Ordaining Rabbis does not include a ceremony of physical S’micha, the leaning of hands upon a new graduate. Rather, this is to be understood as a symbolic gesture, whereby the student in a sense bows his head in submission to his master’s teachings.

In contrast, in regards to the animal, not only did one lay their hands upon the creature, they had to do so b’chol kocho, (see Talmud, Beitzah 19) with all of their strength. Why indeed is there a difference in these two rituals, one being corporeal and substantive, the other solely representative and emblematic?

When a person seeks atonement from sin, physical affirmation is required, not grand but empty gestures. Accordingly, we tell the sinner, you were willing to defile your hands and get down and dirty for the transgression, no less will be acceptable for the process of atonement.

A completely different set of rules however applies when we seek to entrust the stewardship of ideas and ideals to the next generation. What is needed here is not brute strength, but an intellectual and spiritual communion. Consequently, the laying of hands is symbolic, indicating a kinship between teacher and student.

This lesson is one that we must well take to heart. In the province of values, persuasion and not force is the only viable means of transmission. Neither parents, educators or Rabbis will succeed when they make use of a heavy handed policy. After all, as the Torah itself attests, we are instructing and nurturing our future leaders of whom it is said, “ there is spirit,” the cultivation of which needs a light touch.

So what is the difference between a Rabbi’s S’micha and the animal’s? The first offers direction, the second nothing more than a destination.