Our Jewish and Western cultures, and many others, I am sure, are full of expressions such as ‘may the punishment fit the crime’, ‘he got what he deserved”, ‘an eye for an eye’, ‘measure for measure’,  'מידה כנגד מידה' , and similar notions of how punishments are meant to somehow reflect or balance the nature of the crime committed. In this week’s parsha, Shlach, one of the great crimes in Jewish history is committed, and the punishment is especially apposite, and enlightening.

An interesting theme runs through the end of last week’s parsha, Naso, and the beginning of this week’s, Beha’alotcha. At the end of Naso, the נשיאים   - the heads of the twelve tribes of Israel, approach Moshe with an unasked-for gift – wagons, and oxen to pull them, for carrying the Tabernacle and its vessels.

This week we begin the book of Bamidbar, which means “in the desert” – which is where it all takes place. In English it’s called Numbers, as it begins with and contains a number of censuses of the Israelites.

One of the central features of the way the “social safety net” works in the west – whether it’s medical or disability insurance, income assistance, food stamps, whatever – is that before the state really helps you, you have to be in bad shape: poor, out of work, sick, with few if any assets; really out of it. I just heard on the news that in the run-up to the upcoming British elections, there is an argument going on about how much money and property should make a person ineligible for some sort of state assistance (I think it was a medical thing) – 100,000 pounds? 200,000?

It seems like the entire world is trying to deal with the problem of how to treat the stranger.

I have to admit that I am not that big a fan of ritual. Of course, some rituals are great, inspiring, a lot of fun, and/or full of meaning, message, or at least nostalgia and aesthetics – like so much of the Passover Seder, for example (I love my charoset, which is the best in the world – just ask my kids). Broadly, however, doing symbolic acts again and again is something I find challenging: sometimes boring, sometimes hard to make meaning out of, often a chore. I really don’t like worrying if my lulav or etrog are in good shape and unblemished.

The parshas we read this week, Tazria and Metzora, are about an arcane and somewhat mysterious topic – a series of diseases which appear as some sort of growth or discoloration on people, clothing, and houses. Often mistranslated as leprosy, these growths or fungi produce ritual impurity. When the disease is first suspected, the case is dealt with by a priest, who determines whether the affliction is the real thing or not.

When to stick with traditional approaches and when to change them  has been a basic question facing the Jewish people for quite a long time, with increased urgency in the modern era, and with what feels like breakneck speed over the past 40 years or so. The tragedy at the center of this week’s portion, Shmini, which means "the eighth", sheds some light on the issue.