Parashat Ki Tissa 5786

Found in Translation

A D’var Torah for Parashat Ki Tissa
Rabbi Wendy Love Anderson

The seven standard Shabbat morning aliyot of Parashat Ki Tissa are always unbalanced: the first and second aliyah are disproportionately long so that the second aliyah – traditionally assigned to a Levite – can encompass all 47 embarrassing verses of the Golden Calf incident, Israel’s greatest mistake at that point in its history, and a story in which only the Levites come out looking good. But the Golden Calf story was creating problems for Torah readers long before the standardization of an annual Torah-reading cycle. Mishnah Megillah 4:10 includes it in a list of shameful or confusing Biblical passages, some of which are read aloud in Hebrew and translated into Aramaic for general comprehension, some of which are read but not translated, and some of which are neither read nor translated. The Golden Calf incident is unique in that the Mishnah considers some parts of the passage more troubling than others: its first account is both read and translated, but its second account is read but not translated.

Both the corresponding Tosefta (T. Megillah 3:19) and the Bavli (Megillah 25b) agree that the “first account,” which is read and also translated, refers to Exod. 32:1-20, the Torah’s initial description of the Golden Calf incident up until Moses destroys the calf. It’s embarrassing for us to read how quickly our ancestors turned to idol worship, but it’s certainly not more embarrassing than many other Torah passages in which the Israelites lose faith, complain, and plot against Moses. As the Bavli explains, we need not worry for the honor of Judah because Judah confessed his wrongdoing with respect to his daughter-in-law Tamar, and so his deeds can be translated as well as read; similarly, in the Golden Calf incident, we need not worry for the honor of the Jewish people – rather, they would want the incident disclosed! – because they acknowledged and atoned for their actions.

In today’s Jewish world, this arcane debate over Torah reading carries an important message. There are many shameful histories that need to be exposed to light; their acknowledgment can often begin a process of healing, for survivors, and of self-examination and change, for perpetrators. Many of us wince whenever we see Jewish names attached to wrongdoing, but we also know that Jews are as fallible as anyone else. We’re also familiar with the core message of Yom Kippur: we can and should acknowledge our misdeeds, individual and collective, and especially when they offer a path to doing better the next time. Translating the first Golden Calf narrative after reading it offers a similar public act of disclosure and acknowledgment.

But the “second account” of the Golden Calf incident – the part that the Mishnah recommends against translating – complicates a straightforward call for disclosure. It centers on Aaron, beginning with his explanation to Moses (Exod. 32:21-24) and ending with the verse (Exod. 32:35) in which God sends a plague to punish them for their actions with “the calf that Aaron made.” The Tosefta somewhat mysteriously explains that this passage should not be translated because – according to Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar – people should not recount a disgraceful matter: Aaron’s recounting of the Golden Calf incident to Moses gave sectarians an opportunity to go astray.

What does this mean? Rashi’s commentary on the Bavli offers one possibility: when Aaron told Moses “I hurled [the gold] into the fire and out came this calf” (Exod. 32:24) he implied that the calf either had its own power or was divinely inspired; in other words, he gave an opening to those who might want to worship images. Aaron’s defensiveness actually provided an opportunity for later idol worshippers to justify and repeat the original error of the Golden Calf. And while most of us these days aren’t tempted by idol worship, we are definitely tempted to share and retell accounts of wrongdoing, especially sensational and salacious wrongdoing. Sharing at the wrong time, or being careless about the language we use to describe what happened, can lead to additional complications and multiply the damage of the initial wrong.

Rashi’s contemporary Rabbi Isaac Alfasi (the “Rif”) suggests something different: we avoid translating this passage out of respect for Aaron’s honor, presumably because it shows Aaron at his weakest. The Rif’s interpretation mirrors the Bavli passage, in which the story of Judah’s sexual misconduct does not affect his honor because he acknowledged and confessed his wrongdoing – and so that passage is translated. As the Rif implies, Aaron has done none of those things, so translating his account of the Golden Calf incident does detract from the honor or respect we might want to feel for him, and by extension, perhaps, the honor or respect we might feel for Aaron’s later role in facilitating communal atonement as High Priest. If we try to shift blame and don’t acknowledge our own culpability in wrongdoing, we might be committing another shameful act.

While very few Jewish communities still offer a verse-by-verse Aramaic Torah translation, we all still wrestle with how to talk about wrongdoing, whether historical or contemporary, and especially when it’s committed by people we look up to or people we are descended from. Sometimes – as in the first narrative of the Golden Calf – we need to publicize the wrong and ensure that everyone understands what has happened, so that healing can begin, or so that it never happens again. But sometimes – as in the second Golden Calf narrative – we need to tread carefully and disclose selectively so that we don’t compound the initial wrong. Our Torah reading this week reminds us: we have many opportunities to publicize wrongdoing, but it’s always important for us to discern which narrative we’re sharing, and why – no matter how many verses it takes.