Parsha Shemini (Leviticus 9:1-11:47)
By Barrett Holman Leak
SAN DIEGO — I am not throwin’ away my shot
I am not throwin’ away my shot
Ayo, I’m just like my country
I’m young, scrappy and hungry
And I’m not throwin’ away my shot
I’ma get a scholarship to King’s College
I probably shouldn’t brag, but dang, I amaze and astonish
The problem is I got a lot of brains, but no polish
I gotta holler just to be heard
With every word I drop knowledge
i’m a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal
Tryna reach my goal, my power of speech, unimpeachable
–“My Shot” lyrics from the Broadway play, Hamilton
Alexander Hamilton was a self-made man, a brilliant strategist, the tireless architect of a nation and the subject of an award-winning fabulous Broadway musical. His life was a testament to seizing opportunities, to “not throwing away his shot,” as the powerful lyrics of the musical proclaim.
He arrived in a new land, driven by an insatiable desire to contribute, to leave his indelible mark. Like Nadav and Avihu, who in their spiritual fervor sought to draw closer to the Divine, Hamilton possessed an intense inner fire, a relentless drive to shape the future of his adopted country. He poured forth his ideas, his plans for a financial system, for a strong federal government – a constant offering of his intellectual and creative energies.
Yet, Parsha Shemini, through the poignant tale of Aaron’s sons, cautions us about the potential pitfalls of even the most well-intentioned, self-directed fervor. Rashi, in his concise wisdom, points out that Nadav and Avihu’s transgression lay in offering a fire that God had not commanded. It wasn’t necessarily malicious, but an act of individual initiative that bypassed the established order.
We see echoes of this in Hamilton’s journey. His relentless push for his vision, while ultimately contributing to the nation’s foundation, sometimes strained the delicate balance of the early republic. Rambam, in his Guide for the Perplexed, reminds us that true closeness to the Divine comes through meticulous adherence to His commandments and the established order. In the political arena, figures like Jefferson and Madison, who opposed some of Hamilton’s policies, could be seen as advocating for a more prescribed order, wary of the potential for overreach inherent in unchecked innovation. Hamilton’s unwavering belief in his vision sometimes led to friction with those who favored a more traditional approach.
The immediate aftermath of the Tabernacle’s/Mishkan’s dedication is the backdrop for Nadav and Avihu’s shocking demise. Bluntly, it speaks to the consequences of not following prescribed or traditional ways of doing things. Similarly, Hamilton’s intense ambition and political battles had consequences. His lack of boundaries and pushing of limits, like his sexual affair with Maria Reynolds, and his fierce political rivalries, most notably with Aaron Burr, ultimately led to tragedy.
This brings us to the fateful duel, a stark parallel to the sudden deaths of Aaron’s sons. Just as their “strange fire” brought an untimely, immediate and irreversible end, Hamilton’s choice to engage in this violent resolution of a personal and political conflict led to his untimely death. His decision, fueled by a sense of honor and perhaps a refusal to “throw away his shot” in defending his reputation, tragically became his final shot.
Rashi’s emphasis on divine command can be mirrored in the societal and legal structures Hamilton helped to build. His choice of violence, though within the norms of the time for settling disputes among gentlemen, arguably deviated from the higher principles of law and reasoned discourse. Rambam’s focus on established order finds a parallel in the breakdown of the political process that the Burr-Hamilton duel represented. It was a descent into personal violence rather than a resolution within the framework of the republic. And Ramban’s attention to consequence underscores the profound loss to the young nation caused by Hamilton’s death, a brilliant light extinguished by the “strange fire” of personal animosity.
The lyrics of “My Shot” in the play speak of seizing the moment, of not letting opportunity pass. “I am not throwing away my shot,” he declares with youthful fervor. This ambition, this drive, is a powerful force. Yet, Parsha Shemini reminds us that even the most fervent fire must be guided by wisdom, by adherence to principles, and by a deep consideration of its impact. Hamilton’s story, like the Torah’s narrative, serves as a potent reminder that while taking your shot is essential, you must also be mindful of the target, your surroundings, the method, and the potential consequences.
True greatness lies not just in relentless ambition but in channeling that fire responsibly, within the boundaries of wisdom and ethical consideration, for the greater good. May we learn from both the triumphs and tragedies of the past, both ancient and recent, to ignite our passions with purpose and direct them with wisdom.
Immediately following the dedication of the Tabernacle, a moment of immense joy and Divine presence, this tragedy serves as a stark reminder of the gravity of approaching the sacred without proper reverence and adherence to God’s will. It underscores that even in moments of spiritual or emotional high, discipline and humility are paramount. Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, from medieval France) reminds us that even the most brilliant ideas must be guided by a clear understanding of principles and boundaries.
Today, we live in an era of unprecedented creativity through innovation and technology, where individuals constantly seek to push boundaries and invent new ways of doing things. This drive is, in many ways, a positive force, leading to progress and solutions we couldn’t have imagined.
Just as Nadav and Avihu’s “strange fire,” though perhaps born of passion, was ultimately rejected, so too can unchecked innovation lead to unintended consequences. Think of technologies that, while promising, might compromise privacy, exacerbate inequality, or disregard ethical considerations. It affects all generations – whether it is Homelanders who’ve just reached 21 on the upper end, Millennials who’ve reach 41 on the upper end, Nike Generation members who’ve just reach 61 at the top or Baby Boomers who’ve entered into their 80s on the top end, many are living their lives in brilliant technicolor online through social media. Technology and innovation have people believing life has no limits. Do and say what you want to do, often with no boundaries.
The insight of Rambam cautions us against the allure of novelty for its own sake, emphasizing the importance of grounding our advancements in a framework of responsibility and ethical guidelines.
Parsha Shemini, therefore, calls us to embrace innovation with a sense of humility and a commitment to ethical frameworks. It reminds us that true progress isn’t only about doing new things, but often it is about doing the right things, in the right way, with a deep understanding of the potential consequences.
It is also as simple as the need to be aware – take the temperature of the room. Alexander Hamilton disregarded Aaron Burr’s resentment and anger. Some people will simply get angry at you for your innovations, intelligence, innate differences, skin color, gender, sexual orientation, etc. They will set themselves to block your goals, shut you down, shut you up, defame you, complain about you, and some may attempt, yes, to even kill you because you take your shot in life. Sometimes you must be wise enough to do things exactly the way it has always been done until you get to where you can do things differently.
Adhering to some limits, checking in with your team, your family, your constituents, about how to proceed builds longevity and saves a lot of unnecessary pain, grief and loss.
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Barrett Holman Leak is a freelance writer based in San Diego.