July 26, 2025
Author(s): Guest Speaker,
Parashat Matot-Masei
The Curious Case of…Curiosity
July 26, 2025 – 1 Av 5785
Temple Emanuel, Newton, MA
I’m sure you’re familiar with the saying: “curiosity killed the cat.” We say it when curiosity leads us down an unproductive or even dangerous path. However, in a fascinating interview with Professor Tal ben Shahar, an expert in the field of positive psychology, he offers this wonderful line: “curiosity might have killed the cat, but it keeps us alive.” Curiosity, says this prominent researcher, is one of the great secrets of happiness. It ensures that even when we’re alone, we’re not bored. But also, says ben Shahar, being curious about others brings new relationships, can help mend broken ones and deepens connections.
In today’s parsha we see how curiosity not only keeps us alive in a metaphorical sense but does so quite literally. We learn about the confrontation between Moses and the tribes of Reuben and Gad who don’t want to join in the conquest of Canaan with the rest of the Israelites. They want to stay behind with their large herds of cattle east of the Jordan. Moses, however, convinces them that it’s their duty to fight, promising them Gilead -– the land they’ve requested, after the conquest. We learn that the tribes come together to conquer the land and that Reuben and Gad subsequently settle in Gilead. But an interesting detail appears in the book of Joshua about what happens next. A report reaches the Israelites about Reuben and Gad having built an altar upon their return. Assuming this altar is evidence of idolatry, the Israelites are ready to go to war. First, however, they send Pinchas to investigate the matter. This is the same Pinchas who in last week’s parsha acted without hesitation -taking violent action to stop immorality and a plague! But here, we see a very different Pinchas.
Pinchas goes to the eastern tribes and asks: “what is this treachery? Why have you built an altar?”
And they respond: “No! God forbid! This is not for sacrifice -it is a witness, a symbol of our connection to you and to God.
We feared future generations would say: ‘you live across the river – you are not part of the covenant. So, we built an altar -not to divide but to unite.”
And the Torah tells us:
“The words were pleasing in the eyes of Pinchas…and the delegation returned in peace.”
A civil war was averted because someone asked. Curiosity saved lives!
And what’s fascinating is that at the center of this story – as a model of curiosity, is non-other than Pinchas.
The rabbis of the Talmud note his evolution, highlighting the fact that Pinchas is always referred to as “son of Elazar the priest,” except when he goes to speak to the eastern tribes. At that moment he is called “Pinchas the Priest.” At that moment, he is worthy of the mantle of priesthood he inherited from his grandfather Aaron, whose legacy was the pursuit of peace. It so happens that today – the 1st of Av is Aaron’s yartzeit. So, how appropriate it is to remember his legacy of peace which each of us is expected to emulate.
In Pirkei Avot, Hillel teaches: “be like the disciples of Aaron, love peace and pursue it, love all human beings and draw them closer to Torah.” But the astonishing thing is this: the character trait that takes center stage, that Pinchas models for us as a foundational component of peace, is never explicitly mentioned in Torah or rabbinic literature. That is what I mean by the “curious case of curiosity.”
The word for curiosity is nowhere to be found in Torah or rabbinic literature. Nowhere, not once!
We are familiar with many Hebrew words that refer to key character traits in Torah: like the anavah or humility of Moses or the chesed or kindness of Abraham. But how many of us know the Hebrew word for curiosity? It’s sakranut, a word which only entered the Hebrew language upon its revival in the 19th century. In Torah, curiosity is referred to with verbs such as “to seek,” “to ask,” “to know” and “to look.”
But even when this character trait isn’t named, the Jewish story – as we all know, is grounded in the value of curiosity. From the very beginning, we are invited to be curious, to question. God models this for us when God asks Adam and Eve: “Ayeka? Where are you?” – which is about much more than just physical location.
We could even say that curiosity precedes revelation. It was Moses’ sense of wonder that made him stop while tending flock to look at the bush that was burning but not consumed. Others might have passed this burning bush and not given it much thought, but not Moses. In a midrash (Shemot Rabbah 2:2) the rabbis tell us that “God saw that Moses turned aside to look, and only then did God call to him.”
It seems that through the years, curiosity has remained central to who we are as a people. A recent study by the Pew Research Foundation showed that for Jews who reported that being Jewish was “very important,” 87% indicated that intellectual curiosity was either essential or important to their Jewishness.
But while intellectual curiosity might be a hugely important value for many of us, given the internal divisions that continue to challenge us today, it’s an understatement to say that we need to apply curiosity more broadly and more generously. In fact, this is what we are called to do during these days of Av when we remember the infighting of our ancestors which, according to the rabbis, is what led to the destruction of the Temple. I’d like to offer a story that shows what applying curiosity more expansively might look like.
Two summers ago, I heard a recorded conversation between Rabbi Donniel Hartman, of the Hartman Institute, and an Israeli Arab colleague – that has stayed with me ever since. They were talking about what needs to happen for there to be a greater degree of integration of Arab Israelis into the society at large. During the conversation, Donniel Hartman quotes the very famous teaching from Hillel: “What is hateful to you, do not do unto others” but argues that we should aim even higher. He suggests a re-worded phrase: “what is hateful unto others do not do unto them,” replacing “onto you” with “onto others.” Only when we listen with genuine openness and curiosity to what causes others harm, says Harman, will we be able to treat them with the compassion and respect that is at the root of Hillel’s teaching.
It applies not only in the public sphere but also, in interpersonal relationships. What could be more powerful, more healing for our relationships than being genuinely curious about what is hateful or not helpful to our friends and family members? I’m sure many of us have experienced situations where our behavior backfires because our intended kindness doesn’t respond to the needs of the person we are trying to help.
Do you remember the moving piece that Rachel Golberg Polin – the mother of Hersh, wrote about living with the pain of her son’s murder by Hamas? She wrote about people reaching out to her to share their pain caused by the loss of Hersch and so many others. But also, that people saw her as a vessel for the hurts they endured, sharing their own personal losses with her. She says: “I feel like I have third-degree burns on my skin, so when people grab me or try to hug me, it is not helpful for me at this time. I think this is confusing for the person offering themselves to me. I know it is coming from a benevolent place in their heart.”
And then she brings a teaching by Reb Shlomo Volbe – a 20th century rebbe best known for his writings on character development, about true chesed or kindness. He says it requires looking at the person in front of us and saying to ourselves, “What does this person need?” It’s not about putting ourselves into someone else’s shoes but staying in our own shoes and with genuine curiosity trying to understand what that other person needs. And as she herself acknowledges in this piece, “It is so very complicated to do successfully. We all fail at times.”
It’s yet another way of saying that we need to aim even higher than Hillel’s teaching.
It reminds me of the short story, If not higher, by the famous Yiddish writer I. L. Peretz. The story is rooted in the animosity and distrust between the Litvaks and Hasidim in 19th century Eastern Europe. In this story a community of Hasidim believe their rebbe is so holy that he ascends to heaven each year during the Penitential prayers recited before Rosh Hashanah, to pray for his congregation. A visiting Litvak –a Jew who is cerebral and rational – as opposed to the Hasidim who emphasize prayer and spiritual ecstasy, seeks to mock the Hasidim and show that their claim is pure nonsense.
So, he follows the rebbe and what does he discover? The rebbe disguises himself in peasant clothing and goes into the woods to chop down a tree. Pretending to be selling wood, he knocks on the door of a shack where a poor and elderly woman lives. He offers to lend her the few coins he is charging –a gesture intended to preserve her dignity. She accepts, he lights the fire and as it burns, the rebbe recites the Penitential prayers. The Litvak, who sees all of this, is so impressed that he becomes a disciple of the rebbe. And when other disciples brag about the rebbe ascending to heaven at the time of the Penitential Prayers, the Litvak adds quietly, “If not higher.” We too can ascend “even higher” -when we channel our curiosity towards discovery and empathy, like the rebbe does in this beautiful short story.
I want to conclude this Ode to Curiosity, by circling back to “the cat” whom curiosity might have killed but– as I said earlier, it keeps us alive and happy according to the latest research. And here, I’d like to share with you a more personal story. A story about my mother, who many of you might know -Renata Brailovsky, who is 94 years old and has what I would call an “insatiable curiosity.” She participates in various foreign language book clubs, goes to the latest exhibit at the MFA and keeps up with technology: texting and receiving messages on her Apple Watch. Curiosity keeps her going –keeps her growing, learning and happy to be alive. Even when she is alone, she is never bored. But the truth is that she is rarely alone because the same curiosity that keeps her engaged in all sorts of activities, keeps her making new friends-even at this stage in her life.
And so, may we continue to be a people of sacred curiosity.
Like Moses, who turned aside in wonder, to look and discover.
Like Pinchas, who asked and didn’t assume.
Like those who -today, teach us by example to listen for what others need rather than what we think they want.
And may our curiosity bring not only knowledge and happiness—but compassion and most of all—peace.
Shabbat Shalom.
About Rabbi Sonia Saltzman
Rabbi Sonia Saltzman is currently serving as Rabbinic Advisor for Graduate Students at Boston University Hillel. She has taught at various synagogue communities, including Temple Emanuel (Newton), Kerem Shalom (Concord) and Newbridge on the Charles (Dedham). Rabbi Saltzman was Senior Rabbi at Temple Ohabei Shalom, Brookline from 2011-2018 and from 2008-2011 she served as the rabbi of Sha’arei Shalom, Ashland.
Rabbi Saltzman was ordained in 2008 as part of the first graduating class of the Rabbinical School at Hebrew College. During Rabbinical School, she held student pulpits at Temple Emanuel in Newton and at Temple Aliyah in Needham, completed chaplaincy training at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, and served as faculty for the Bronfman Youth Fellowship Program in Israel. Prior to entering the rabbinate, Rabbi Saltzman worked in the field of micro-finance at ACCION International as head of the Financial Services Department, extending credit to small businesses in the developing world. She also worked in Bank of Boston’s Project Finance Department and taught in its Loan Officer Development Program. Rabbi Saltzman is a graduate of Tufts University (BA in Political Science) and holds a Masters Degree in International Affairs (Columbia University) and a Masters Degree in Bible and Jewish Thought (Brandeis University).
She is married to Dr. Ned Saltzman, a urologist at Newton-Wellesley Hospital and has two grown sons, Benjamin and Gabriel.