The Torah, in the book of Numbers (30:2), grapples with this very idea: "Moses spoke to the heads of the tribes of the children of Israel, saying: This is the matter that the Lord commanded." Specifically, it addresses vows and oaths. "If a man takes a vow to the Lord, or takes an oath to impose a prohibition upon himself, he shall not profane his word; he shall act in accordance with everything that emerges from his mouth" (Numbers 30:3). Seems straightforward, right? But like so much in our tradition, there's a whole world of nuance beneath the surface.
The passage from Bamidbar Rabbah 22 digs deep into this commandment. It asks: when are we actually allowed to swear an oath in God's name? It's not as simple as just telling the truth, apparently. The text connects the verse in Numbers to Jeremiah 4:2, "You will take an oath: As the Lord lives, in truth, in justice and in righteousness." It suggests that God is saying, "Don't think you can just go around swearing by My name, even if you are being truthful!"
So what’s the catch? The Bamidbar Rabbah explains that you're only permitted to take an oath in God's name if you embody certain key attributes. These attributes, it says, are exemplified by figures like Abraham, Job, and Joseph. These figures were known for being God-fearing. As it says about Abraham, "For now I know that you are God-fearing" (Genesis 22:12). Or about Job, “A virtuous and upright man, fearing God” (Job 1:8). And Joseph declared, “I fear God” (Genesis 42:18).
But what does it mean to "fear God" in this context? The text expands on this. It connects fearing God with serving Him, and cleaving to Him. "The Lord your God you shall fear... Him you shall serve... To Him you shall cleave" (Deuteronomy 6:13, 10:20). "Him you shall serve," it says, means devoting yourself to Torah study and performing mitzvot (commandments).
Now, "cleaving" to God... that's a tricky one. Can a person literally cling to the Divine Presence? Of course not! As Deuteronomy 4:24 reminds us, "For the Lord your God is a consuming fire!" Instead, the Bamidbar Rabbah offers a fascinating interpretation. It suggests that "cleaving to God" means something like this: if you marry your daughter to a scholar – someone dedicated to studying Torah and Mishnah (oral law) – and you support that scholar through your business, allowing him to continue his studies, that's considered cleaving to God. It's about facilitating and supporting a life dedicated to Torah.
The takeaway? It's not just about what you say when you swear an oath, but who you are. If you embody these qualities – fear of God, devotion to Torah, supporting those who dedicate themselves to sacred study – then you may be permitted to take an oath. But if not... well, maybe think twice.
The text then tells a cautionary tale about King Yannai. He had two thousand cities, but they were all destroyed because of true oaths! How could that be? People were constantly making oaths about trivial things: "By oath, I'm going to eat this here, and drink that there." They felt compelled to fulfill these oaths, even when they were frivolous or harmful. The implication is clear: even true oaths can have devastating consequences if we're not careful and thoughtful about them. And if that's the case for true oaths, imagine the damage caused by false ones!
This ancient teaching really makes you think, doesn't it? How often do we make promises, both to ourselves and to others, without truly considering the weight of our words? Maybe the Bamidbar Rabbah is urging us to be more mindful, not just of our oaths, but of all our commitments. To strive to embody those qualities of God-fearing, devotion, and support for sacred endeavors. Maybe, just maybe, that's how we can truly honor the power – and the responsibility – that comes with speaking truth in the world.