“Values Over Verdict” Parashat Naso 5785
Picture this: a young man, barely past puberty, gorging on stolen meat and guzzling stolen wine, defying his parents with a stubborn streak that lands him [Devarim 21:18-21] in the Torah’s crosshairs as a Rebellious Son (Ben sorer u’moreh). The punishment? Stoning – the most painful Torah-mandated death penalty – by the community, on his parents’ testimony. Sounds harsh, right? But hold your horses: Rabbi Nachum Eliezer Rabinowitz[1], writing in “The Way of Torah[2]”, flips the script, asserting that Ben sorer u’moreh is not a law to be applied but a lesson to be learned.
Rabbi Rabinowitz argues that the Ben sorer u’moreh is a Torah “shock tactic,” designed to wake parents up to their sacred duty. The law’s conditions as described in the Talmud in Tractate Sanhedrin [70a] are absurdly narrow: the child must be exactly between puberty and three months after, he must eat a specific amount of meat and wine, and both parents must agree to prosecute him. The parents must even have the same voice – the same pitch, the same resonance, the same attenuation. These conditions are so restrictive that the Talmud in Tractate Sanhedrin [71a] states that a Ben sorer u’moreh “never happened and never will happen.” Instead, we are commanded to “Study and receive reward (Drosh v’kabel sachar)”. Rabbi Rabinowitz sees this as a call to action: The Torah is shouting, “Hey, parents! If your kid is heading down a bad path, intervene now, before he ends up a criminal!” The Talmud in Tractate Sanhedrin [72a] notes that the Ben sorer u’moreh is judged not for his criminal actions but, rather, for his “future end.” It’s all about potential, not present guilt. Think of it as a Torah parenting seminar, not a court ruling.
This explanation ties into the bigger picture of G-d’s relationship with Israel. Just as parents must guide their child, G-d guides us, but with mercy outweighing justice (Middah tovah merubah mimmidat pur’anut). The law’s non-use reflects Divine compassion: Repentance trumps retribution. Rabbi Rabinowitz’s take is a gem: It turns a harsh law into a profound lesson about family, responsibility, and second chances, showing how the Torah uses extreme scenarios to teach eternal values. Rabbi Rabinowitz’s innovation lies in highlighting this Divine model, encouraging us to mirror G-d’s mercy in our own homes, and by doing so, fostering a culture of growth over judgment.
Now, let’s shift gears to the “Suspected adulteress (Sotah),” discussed at length in the Portion of Naso [Bemidbar 5:11–31]. A jealous husband suspects that his wife is cheating on him. With no witnesses to his wife’s alleged infidelity, he brings her to the Priest (Kohen) for a dramatic litmus test. She drinks the “bitter waters,” and if she is guilty, she faces a Divine punishment – her stomach will bloat, distend, and explode. If she is innocent, she is cleared and promised that she will bear a child. Sounds intense, but guess what? There is no record of this ever happening, ever. Not in the Torah, not in the Talmud, not in the Midrash. Nowhere. The Talmud in Tractate Sotah [47a] teaches that the ritual ceased after the destruction of the second Holy Temple (Beit HaMikdash) because “adulterers increased.” Nevertheless, its absence even before the second Beit HaMikdash was destroyed begs the question: Can we apply Rabbi Rabinowitz’s lens here?
Absolutely. The laws of the Sotah, like the Ben sorer u’moreh, are more about deterrence than doing. Rashi[3] notes that its conditions, as described in the Talmud in Tractate Sotah [2a], are a maze – formal warning in front of two witnesses, seclusion in front of one witness, no witnesses of the actual adultery – making it nearly impossible to enact, nudging couples toward reconciliation instead. The best proof of this is the Torah’s promise that the wife, if found innocent, will bear a child. Noting that it takes two to tango, the point the Torah is making is that the ultimate goal of the Sotah is to restore intimacy and love to a marriage, to enable the creation and sustainment of a family. The public spectacle of the ordeal screams, “Marriage is sacred, so don’t mess with it!” It is a communal wake-up call, much like the Ben sorer u’moreh warns about parenting. The Talmud’s note on its cessation ties it to a spiritual ideal: when society’s morals tanked, the ritual lost its punch. This is not a law for the courtroom but a lesson for the heart, teaching fidelity and trust, echoing Rabbi Rabinowitz’s idea of Torah laws as moral guides, not legal traps. Rabbi Rabinowitz would surely nod at this parallel, seeing both laws as Torah’s way of prioritizing ethical lessons over literal action.
Here is where things get a little tricky. The Talmud in Tractate Sanhedrin [71a] explicitly asserts that the Ben sorer u’moreh “never happened and never will happen,” pushing its study for educational purposes, as Rabbi Rabinowitz espouses. But in Tractate Sotah, there is no similar disclaimer about the Sotah. Why the double standard?
Let’s break it down. The Ben sorer u’moreh hits a raw nerve: Parents turning their child over for execution is a gut punch to Jewish values of life and mercy. This is a universal issue. Any family, any time, could face a rebellious teen, so the Talmud slams the door on its use to avoid any chance of misapplying it. It’s too risky, too heart-wrenching, so our Sages say, “Study it, but don’t do it.” This fits Rabbi Rabinowitz’s innovation: the law is a teaching tool to stress early intervention, not a death sentence. The Sotah, however, is different. It is specifically tied to the Beit HaMikdash[4], a place where Divine rituals, like the offering of sacrifices and the erasing G-d’s name in the waters[5], made sense. The Talmud implies that it was done back in the day, though we have no evidence, and it stopped when society went downhill. Its obsolescence is baked in: no Beit HaMikdash, no Sotah. Our Sages did not need to say “it never happened” because its historical context after the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash made it a non-issue. Further, the Sotah did not threaten core values like family unity the way the Ben sorer u’moreh did, so it did not need the same Talmudic disclaimer. Rabbi Rabinowitz’s take, and its extension to the Sotah, shines in how it aligns with Talmudic wisdom, turning harsh laws into lessons we can use today. It is a great way to teach Jewish values – parenting for one, fidelity for the other – without getting stuck on outdated legalism.
Digging deeper, the Talmud’s different treatments might reflect rabbinic spin more than the Torah’s intent. The rejection of the Ben sorer u’moreh protects family values, while the Sotah’s historical framing keeps its Beit haMikdash-era cred. This shows how our Sages interpreted the written law to fit Torah ethics, a process Rabbi Rabinowitz attributes to the text itself.
So, what’s the takeaway? Rabbi Rabinowitz nails it: the Ben sorer u’moreh is not about stoning a kid – it’s about teaching parents to step up. The Sotah, unrecorded in history, follows suit, using a Divine drama to preach fidelity, intimacy, and trust. The Talmud’s distinction of calling out the Ben sorer u’moreh as pure study while letting the Sotah fade with the Beit HaMikdash shows our Sages’ genius in balancing ethics and history. Both laws prove the Torah’s timeless trick: using the extreme to teach the everyday, guiding us toward mercy, responsibility, and harmony. This is the Torah that G-d gave to the Jewish People at Mount Sinai nearly 3,500 years ago this week, timelessly pointing us to a better way to live.
Please daven for a Refu’a Shelema for Shlomo ben Esther, Sheindel Devorah bat Rina, Esther Sharon bat Chana Raizel, Esther bat Hila, and Meir ben Drora.
[1] Rabbi Rabinowitz was the Dean (Rosh Yeshiva) at the prestigious Yeshivat Birkat Moshe in Ma’aleh Adumim. Rabbi Rabinowitz’s approach to halacha was revolutionary, combining the old and the new, embracing change while not discarding the past. He was the Rosh Yeshiva of our two sons.
[2] The article originally appeared in the Edah Journal in Tevet 5763. Edah is now defunct and its website has been taken down. Copies of all of the Edah journals appear on the Yeshivat Chovevei Torah website. This article can be found at https://library.yctorah.org/journals/edah-journal-marheshvan-5761-11-3/
[3] Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known by his acronym “Rashi,” was the most eminent of the medieval commentators. He lived in northern France in the 11th century.
[4] The Torah commands the husband [Bemidbar 5:30] to “present his wife before G-d”.
[5] See Bemidbar [5:23].
