Pemikiran Yahudi Bilangan 25:8: Akeidat Yitzchak & Guide for the Perplexed

וַ֠יָּבֹא אַחַ֨ר אִֽישׁ־יִשְׂרָאֵ֜ל אֶל־הַקֻּבָּ֗ה וַיִּדְקֹר֙ אֶת־שְׁנֵיהֶ֔ם אֵ֚ת אִ֣ישׁ יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל וְאֶת־הָאִשָּׁ֖ה אֶל־קֳבָתָ֑הּ וַתֵּֽעָצַר֙ הַמַּגֵּפָ֔ה מֵעַ֖ל בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

Lalu ia masuk mengikuti laki-laki Israel itu ke dalam kemah, dan menikam keduanya, yaitu laki-laki Israel itu dan perempuan itu, menembus perutnya. Maka tulah itu pun berhenti menimpa orang Israel.

Akeidat Yitzchak

When looking at the proof quoted for the statement that the true hero is he who controls his passions, Ben Zoma quotes "better the long patience than a hero, and someone who is in control of his spirit, than the conqueror of a city." (Proverbs 16,32) We must approach this with a similar yardstick. Aristotele defines bravery in his book of ethics, as a person who is prepared to be a martyr and brave death for the sake of what he believes to be ethically good and noble. In fact, if we examine David's heroism, such as when he volunteered to do battle with Goliath, he fits the bill exactly. His motivation, as has been stated, was that someone who blasphemes the Lord G'd of Israel must not be allowed to get away with it. Pinchas, who killed Zimri, (Numbers 25,8) displayed similar emotions. Aristotele's definition appears quite appropriate then. Also Isaiah 63,5, seems to bear out this definition. Ben Zoma's quotation does not seem to prove much, stating only that conquests alone do not constitute bravery. Even a weak king can conquer cities, when he has armies at his command. What Ben Zoma wishes to tell us, however, is that to describe someone as brave merely because he conquers, is foolish. If a king cannot control his own passions, how can he expect to control his soldiers? Only after he has learned to be in charge of himself, can he be trusted to be in charge of others. Concerning David and Pinchas, it is true that had they not done what they did, they would not have been known for the heroes that they undoubtedly were. It is the normal reaction of a person who observes violence being perpetrated on an innocent human being, to rationalise that his own life is more precious than that of his fellow human being. Therefore, he refrains from a rescue operation that would put his own life at grave risk. This is especially so, when the prospect of success of the rescue operation is only marginal. In order to do what one has at first glance perceived as one's moral duty, one needs to conquer the voices that tell one not to risk one's life and become a dead hero. Both David and Pinchas became heroes when they had successfully conquered those voices. They conquered the urge that had prompted their peers to refrain from becoming involved. Engaging in dangerous action was not something impetuous then, but on the contrary, it resulted from deliberation, having one's passions under control. Had the undertaking been unsuccessful, the potential hero risked derision rather than admiration, even though he might have given his life for the cause. Relying on one's strength, as mentioned in Isaiah 63,5, is not the antithesis of our concept of bravery, provided such reliance is not the result of bravado, showmanship and quest for personal glory. The hero feels that his life is not worth living, if the only way he can live it is by permitting great evils to go unchecked, and thus allow the name of G'd to continue to be desecrated. Ben Zoma's definition of true heroism then includes two important elements: A) Preparedness for martyrdom in order to achieve an ideal, or wipe out an evil; B) an awareness that the risks involved are undertaken deliberately, not impulsively. The hero faces up to unpopularity or even scorn that his action may arouse.
Tanya RabiBookmarkShareCopy

Guide for the Perplexed

I have also a reason and cause for calling our language the holy language—do not think it is exaggeration or error on my part, it is perfectly correct—the Hebrew language has no special name for the organ of generation in females or in males, nor for the act of generation itself, nor for semen, nor for secretion. The Hebrew has no original expressions for these things, and only describes them in figurative language and by way of hints, as if to indicate thereby that these things should not be mentioned, and should therefore have no names; we ought to be silent about them, and when we are compelled to mention them, we must manage to employ for that purpose some suitable expressions, although these are generally used in a different sense. Thus the organ of generation in males is called in Hebrew gid, which is a figurative term, reminding of the words, “And thy neck is an iron sinew” (gid) (Isa. 48:4). It is also called shupka, “pouring out” (Deut. 23:2), on account of its function. The female organ is called kobah (Num. 25:8), from kobah (Deut. 18:3), which denotes “stomach”; reḥem, “womb,” is the inner organ in which the fœtus develops; ẓoah (Isa. 28:8), “refuse,” is derived from the verb yaẓa, “he went out”; for “urine” the phrase meme raglayim, “the water of the feet” (2 Kings. 18:17), is used; semen is expressed by shikbat zera‘, “a layer of seed.” For the act of generation there is no expression whatever in Hebrew: it is described by the following words only: ba‘al, “he was master”; shakab, “he lay”; laḳah, “he took”; gillah ‘ervah, “he uncovered the nakedness.” Be not misled by the word yishgalennah (Deut. 28:30), to take it as denoting that act: this is not the case, for shegal denotes a female ready for cohabitation. Comp. “Upon thy right hand did stand the maiden” (shegal) “in gold of Ophir” (Ps. 45:10). Yishgalennah, according to the Kethib, denotes therefore “he will take the female for the purpose of cohabitation.”
Tanya RabiBookmarkShareCopy