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Traditional Congregation Members' Torah Commentaries Reprinted from the
Shabbat Bulletin -Year 5769 |
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Sept. 12, 2009/23 Elul, 5769 Nitzavim-Vayelech
In one of this
week's portions, God declares that the time will come when He will hide
his face from the Jewish people. In the words of the Torah, "and I will
certainly conceal my face on that day, (haster astir)." (Deuteronomy
31:18) What does this hiding and concealing actually mean? Rabbi Avi Weiss Sept. 5, 2009/16 Elul, 5769 Ki Tavo This parasha begins with Moses delineating the specific prayers to be recited when the Israelites bring tithes into Jerusalem. Annually, the first tithe went to the Levites in lieu of having their own land. The second tithe was brought into the city to be enjoyed by the bearer in a festive manner. Every third and sixth year of the seven year cycle the second tithe was given to the needy. Here also is given the specific form of the prayer to be stated by the bearer. This is one of very few instances in which the Torah specifically spells out the form and content of a prayer. Having concluded this last specific instruction, Moses goes on to speak about the entrance to the Holy Land. Just as at Mt. Sinai there is a large community event. The people were gathered a safe distance from Mt. Sinai to hear the words of G-d directly and still collectively were awed and could not continue the direct experience of the words of the Decalogue. This time that entire generation who directly witnessed the miracles and heard the words of G-d was gone. The new generation about to enter the Holy Land needed a bit of reminding. Rather than Moses bringing down the two tablets, large stones were set up with the words of the Torah written for all to see. The Israelites are split and sent to the slopes of two mountains, Ebal and Gerizim. Moses and the Levites stand between the mountains and give instructions to the entire community fashioned after the manner of Sinai. This takes again the form of a contract between two parts, G-d and the Israelites, with emphasis on pointing out sins that could be committed in secret and thus could only be punished by G-d, who would know what one does even if hidden by the community. This last part of the parasha starts with the blessings which would be bestowed upon the entire nation if they followed all the commandments. Herein is found bounty of the land, money, fertility, and the vanquishing of enemies both physically and spiritually. This is followed by the Tochecha (rebuke or warning). This is a l o n g list of progressive disasters which would befall the community both on an individual and collective basis if the laws of the Torah are broken. There is a sense in all these punishments also of increasing despair and hopelessness – a communal depression from which there is no escape. Finally, Moses acknowledges that the slave-born Israelites were probably incapable of truly understanding and appreciating their relationship with G-d. It was not until they were shown forty years of beneficence and stand on the brink of the Promised Land that their eyes could be opened and true understanding take place. What I found most intriguing were the parallelisms between the revelation at Sinai and that just mentioned at the entrance to the Holy Land. Why would this be repeated? What are the differences between the Decalogue and the statements made here? What are the differences in the situations? I feel that many of these answers can be found in the beginning of the reading when the specific prayers are mentioned. Most of us would be familiar with these words since they are paraphrased in the beginning of our Pesach Haggadot and later discussed by the Talmudic sages quoted in Haggadah. It is important that each of them, as well as each of us, regards him/herself as if the slavery-redemption-Sinai-wilderness experience was personal which leads to a personal relationship with G-d and his commandments as well as a sense of being part of the larger Jewish community. Shabbat shalom, Phil Brick August 29, 2009/9 Elul, 5769 Ki Tetze In the parasha Ki Tetze, Moses, who will die soon, continues to deliver his ethical will, his review of 72 more of G-d’s commandments for the Israelites to follow so that it will go well with them and they may long remain in the land that God promised them. The context and overarching standard and persistent strategy of these commandments is the pursuit of justice. And often, in this listing, we learn that the behavior of a single individual in a single incident is important in maintaining the equilibrium of a healthy human society. Conflict, an inherent condition of human interaction, is discussed on the battlefield and in the home. In each case the commandment works to reduce the moral issue to its smallest essence so that the problem can be tackled and contained. The hubris of victory in war becomes the power of a soldier over his enemy and is expressed in the desire of a soldier for a woman captive. She is permitted to the soldier only once before she is given a period of mourning to adjust to her new circumstances. If the soldier changes his mind about her, he must give her her freedom. The Torah zooms in on two human beings and justice is defined as that which achieves a proper balance of conflicting interests. The commandment that keeps a groom at home with his bride, even as war prevails, understands that in life the good and the bad may travel in tandem. Justice insists on a future for humanity. The security of property is one of the reasons that governments are established. The exclusive right to possess, enjoy and dispose of a thing is challenged in this parasha by the definition of ownership. Lost property must be cared for and restored to the rightful owner, even as the Torah mandates that the owner of a field must not shake the olive tree twice and must leave sheaves for the poor. These corollaries to the commandment, “do not steal” teach responsibility and respect for one another. The owner of a building must build a railing on the roof to protect people walking on the roof. Life experiences continue to create a more nuanced understanding of justice. The parasha finishes with the warning to remember how the Amalekites attacked the weary Israelites in the desert. The commandments can serve to strengthen our society and suggest ways to deal with the humiliation of the defeated and the restoration of their properties. Shabbat Shalom, Naomi Fishman August 22, 2009/2 Elul, 5769 Shoftim In Deuteronomy, Moses' last speech urges the Jewish people to be clear about what needs to be done when they enter the land of Israel.
He describes specific behavior which they need to engage. An underlying element of this speech is to create a spiritual discipline for living.
As the Jewish people enter this new environment, we can ask what does the world around them look like?; and what are their expectations of the
world brought from their past? An important part of Moses' message is for the Jewish people to be obedient to the Almighty they must separate
themselves from their past world(s). What important links can be drawn to Moses' message of specific behavior for people in the nation of Israel?
It could be argued that those who observe commandments demonstrate behavior that defines them as part of the Jewish community. A strong
choice is given in Re'eh, last week's parsha, Moses warns the Israelites "If you follow G-d's laws, you will be blessed more than all the peoples
of the earth. However, if you worship false idols and ignore the other commandments, then you shall be cursed and perish"
Shoftim begins with an emphasis on judges, public officials, judicial administration and justice. An oft-cited phrase is:
Justice,
justice shalt thou follow, that The statement looks to the future, however, what does it tell us about the role of judges and public officers involved in the administration of justice? The Sefer Ha-hinukh explains: "The value and function of judges and officers is that they compel people to observe the precepts of the Torah, turning back those who deviate from the true path..." Many of those precepts are found in the book of Leviticus. The repetition of the word justice is curious. The Torah must be seeking additional ideas. What new elements should be considered by this repetition? Nachmanides says the repetition of justice is designed to instruct both the judge and the litigant about behavior that should be followed. For example both judges and litigants should be righteous, impartial, not take bribes, and hear both rich and poor on an equal footing. The framework for the judiciary, i.e., bet din (court of law), begins at the local and tribal level. These decisions can gain support from the local and newly formed population, reduce the level of conflict, and diminish possibilities for national rulings. Judges were appointed for each city and, as Rashi comments, for each tribe separately. This structure allowed retention and support of tribal practices as the people adjusted to the Land of Israel. Judicial decisions involved both criminal and civil, i.e. property, matters. In difficult cases, decisions were rendered by the priests, the Levites, serving as a supreme court in Jerusalem. The people of Israel visited there mainly during the three pilgrimage festivals, and probably during this time many legal cases were brought for later decisions that would establish Torah precepts. Shabbat Shalom, Steve Puro August 15, 2009/25 Av, 5769 Re'eh Our Parashah opens with the call to choose the blessings of life by doing Gd's Will, and to reject the curse of living life in opposition to Gd's Will. Moshe Rabbeinu immediately goes on to explain that this involves, first and foremost, the rejection of idolatry and the destruction of all vestiges of it from the Land. Rashi comments to verse 11:28: "From this they said: assent to idolatry is tantamount to rejecting the entire Torah." Idolatry is certainly one of the three cardinal sins in Judaism (the other two being murder and sexual immorality) but it is the only one of the three that is considered to be equivalent to denying Torah. Why should this be? Perhaps the best and most inclusive definition of idolatry is "ascribing independent existence and power to anything other than Gd." Gd is the eternal basis of all existence. Gd in fact is the only existence that is primary and independent – all other existences, including our own, is contingent. Therefore if we ascribe power to anything other than Gd, we are denying Gd's uniqueness and singularity, we are denying Gd's role as creator and maintainer of the universe, and we are denying the nature of the relationship between ourselves and Gd. Perhaps it is this third denial that is the most serious, because it revolves around the deeply ingrained human desire to see ourselves as independent actors. This is a natural desire, and one that seems to be in accord with what we perceive as our nature. We see ourselves as occupying time and space, as separate from other individuals, and as able to make our own decisions – most notably our own moral decisions. This is absolutely necessary and correct, for without our having free will there is no possibility of religious life. An automaton cannot pray or do t'shuvah, nor does he/she/it need to, for it bears no responsibility for its actions. From our perspective then, we are independent existences, able to do "what is right and good in our own eyes," whether or not it corresponds with what is right and good in Gd's eyes. I think that what Torah is demanding here is that we begin to perceive reality from Gd's point of view. From Gd's point of view there is only one reality, the reality of Gd's existence, and that reality is eternal and unchanging, and the basis of any finite existence. When we begin to see reality in these terms, anything contingent and finite is, comparatively speaking, non-existent. All this having been said, we must be very careful to keep each evaluation in its proper perspective. When we, as individuals, are acting within the world, we certainly must keep in mind all the boundaries of existence – boundaries that define the individuality of ourselves and others, and that regulate the appropriate relationships between those individualities (this can mean between people and also between ourselves and the forces of nature). But we are enjoined never to forget that this perspective is limited, and that there is an infinitely broader perspective, the perspective of infinity and eternity, in which the only true existence is Gd's, and only Gd's Will reigns. Our Sages tell us the "the seal of the Holy One is Truth." Truth is that which is eternal, and truth has been revealed to us in Gd's Torah. By comparison, everything else is evanescent, the will-o-the-wisp of falsehood – idolatrous. Living Torah awareness demands that we align our perspective primarily with Gd's true perspective as the Psalmist tells us: Ascribe to Gd honor and strength! Shabbat Shalom, Rafi Rabinoff August 8, 2009/18 Av, 5769 Ekev This week's portion includes the verse upon which is based the obligation to recite the Grace After Meals. The text reads "and you shall eat and be satisfied and bless the Lord your God upon the land which is good." (Deuteronomy 8:10) The Talmud understands the first words "and you shall eat and be satisfied and bless the Lord your God" as the obligation to offer a prayer of thanksgiving to God after eating. The phrase "upon the land" instructs us to add a blessing of thanksgiving to God for giving us the land of Israel. And the words, "which is good" are taken to mean that an additional blessing thanking God for Jerusalem, the goodly spiritual center of the Land, is included as a third blessing. Here is the Biblical basis for the first three blessings of the Grace: Hazan - the blessing for food, Al Ha-Aretz - the blessing for the land, U'vnei Yerushalayim - the blessing for Jerusalem. (Berachot 48b) The question arises: Thanking God for food is completely understandable, but why include blessings for Israel and Jerusalem?
It can
be suggested that not only are we thanking God for the food that we've
eaten, but we are also expressing confidence that food will be provided in
the future. The place where this confidence is highest is in Israel where
we are governed by Jews, not in the Diaspora where we are not. In the
Diaspora, we can never be sure of the way we will be treated in the
future, hence we can never be certain where the next morsel will come
from. Lest we think that the focus of Israel is only land, the physical
protection of Jews, we add the blessing of Jerusalem, symbolic of the
spirituality of Israel so necessary for its survival. A land without a
spiritual mission is the equivalent of a body without a soul. Extraordinary: In expressing gratitude to God for food we recount the basic themes that have carved out Jewish destiny and our dreams for the future - Israel, Jerusalem, exile and the hopes of ultimate redemption. Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Avi Weiss August 1, 2009/11 Av, 5769 V'etchanan A great theme in this Parashah is the theme of prayer. Moshe Rabbenu details his own prayer to enter the Land of Israel (actually from the numerical value of the word v'etchanan it is derived that Moshe Rabbenu actually prayed 515 prayers -- no wonder Gd said "Enough!"). In addition, we have the Sh'ma in this portion, around which the morning and evening prayers are centered. A great physicist and student of Einstein's, John Archibald Wheeler, once commented that "human beings are the universe's way of knowing about itself." In a similar but more profound vein, our Sages tell us that the whole purpose of creation is for people to recognize the Creator. To this end, Gd has created humanity with a physical body, which is at the furthest reach away from Gd's transcendental Being, and then tells us "Return children of Adam -- people of the physical earth (adamah), return to Me and to your own inner spiritual essence." The whole process of creation is one of exile and redemption. And what is the means by which we can effectuate that redemption? One would have to say it is prayer. It follows that it is impossible for anyone, but especially Jews, to live without praying. Without prayer how can we connect with the Creator of all, and without that connection we are like a tree that has lost contact with its roots, doomed to wither and die. We need to pray as much as we need to breathe, or we become but a body with no spirit left. Since prayer is so vital for the fulfillment of Gd's plan for the universe, it is no wonder that the yetzer ha'ra is so assiduous in trying to get us to neglect it. It's too early to get up for minyan. I'm too busy. Prayer doesn't work for me. I can pray anywhere, any time -- I don't need a siddur. I never learned to pray properly. I'm too old. I'm too young. We've all used these excuses at one time or another -- and they all are nonsense. Moshe Rabbenu prayed 515 prayers, and always got the same answer – “No!” Did that stop him? Apparently not; Gd had to tell him to stop. There is a controversy as to whether prayer is a Biblical commandment (Rambam) or a Rabbinic one (Ramban), but everyone agrees that in times of trouble it is a Biblical commandment to pray to Gd for His help. We have to understand that our lives are not a given. Our health, our property, our children, none of this is to be taken for granted. It is a gift from Gd that must be continually renewed -- "Who renews in His goodness every day the work of Creation." But for that to happen takes prayer. Life's troubles come to remind us of that need. "Gd desires the prayers of the righteous." Why? Because when we pray we connect ourselves back to Gd, thereby fulfilling His purpose in creating us to begin with. When we pray, we are literally praying for our lives. What greater necessity can there be than this? So let us not be complacent about prayer. If the Patriarchs and Matriarchs and the great leaders of our faith all prayed, surely we need to also. King David tells us that Gd is close to all who call upon him sincerely. It is not beyond us. If we wind up not reaching the heights of Moshe Rabbenu, yet we will be elevated. The only defeat is not striving. Shabbat shalom, Rafi Rabinoff July 25, 2009/4 Av, 5769 Devarim You may be familiar with a particular quote from the noted philosopher, Yogi Berra, who said “It’s déjà vu all over again.” It would seem that one might have a similar reaction to Devarim. In this parasha, Moses reviews some important events of the previous forty years in the desert, in particular emphasizing the story of the spies as an unfortunate point in the history of the Jewish people. To be sure, it seems reasonable for Moses to stress the consequences of disobedience. However, these events have already been presented in ‘real time’, so to speak, in the Torah. If the Torah is predicated on conciseness of information, what might be the significance of the repetition? It is noteworthy that Devarim is the parasha that is always read before Tisha B’Av. This Shabbat, designated Shabbat Chazon, is so named from the opening verse of the corresponding Haftarah, the ‘vision’ of Isaiah. What we find is that Isaiah is even harsher in his language than Moses in chastising the Jewish people. In describing the events of his time, Isaiah goes so far as to compare the actions of the people to those of Sodom and Gomorrah, implying that such conduct led to the exile of the Jewish nation. What’s going on here? Why the continued rebukes by the prophets? Isn’t admonishing the Jewish people one time enough? We’ll obviously not. Being a stiff-necked people is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it has helped us survive despite enormous adversity over the millennia. On the other hand, it results in a certain degree of arrogance and defiance that leads us astray. Perhaps the prophets are saying that their visions will continue to be necessary and need to be repeated until they are finally understood. Isaiah says, “Learn to do good, seek justice, strengthen the victim, do justice for the orphan, take up the cause of the widow.” Is this finally understood by all, or should it be repeated perhaps one more time for those who might have missed it? Shabbat shalom, Paul Tesser July 18, 2009/26 Tammuz, 5769 Matot-Massei The first parasha of our double portion begins with vows and ends with vows. At the beginning of the portion we read the laws of vowing. The basic law of a vow is lo yachel d’varo; k’chol hayotzei mipiv ya’aseh – “He shall not profane his word; everything that comes out of his mouth shall he do.” At the end of the parasha we have the vow that the tribes of Reuven and Gad make to Moshe, that if they are given the just-conquered lands east of the Jordan, their troops will cross the Jordan as the vanguard for the other tribes and help conquer the Land. This promise is kept, as we read in the book of Joshua. Besides the obvious social benefit of being able to trust one’s neighbor, why does the Torah place so much importance on keeping our word? I think we can find one answer in the beginning of Bereisheet. Gd created humankind in His image as it were; as Gd is creative, so we are creative, albeit on an infinitely lower level. Gd breathes into Adam’s nostrils the breath of life which Onkelos renders as Gd’s making people “speaking beings.” Just as Gd created the entire universe with 10 utterances (see Pirke Avot V:1), so we can create reality with our speech. Just as Gd defined the categories of halachah but speaking to Moshe Rabbenu, so we can create new halachic categories for ourselves or others by speaking. For example, if I make a vow not to eat apples for the next 30 days, apples become as forbidden to me as pork. If I go ahead and eat an apple, the punishment is the same as for eating pork. By taking this vow I have created a new reality in regards to myself and the apple. It is a different reality than existed before or will exist after. A second example: if we light the candles early on Friday night and accept the sanctity of Shabbat on ourselves, we are immediately guilty of violating Shabbat if we perform any of the forbidden labors, even if objectively the sun is still shining brightly. We have, with our utterance, created a new reality for ourselves. The essence of a vow is to sanctify something. Sanctifying something means to set it apart from the mundane. In a sense, our uttering a vow reverses, as it were, Gd’s utterances. Gd’s utterances set the entire vast creation in motion, spinning “away” from Gd as it were through all the levels down to the physical world we inhabit in our bodies. What we do when we utter a vow of sanctification is to take the physical object (the apple, or even our created selves) and bring it back “towards” Gd. How powerful is the potentiality of our speech! To return to the pasuk (verse) at the beginning of the parasha, our Sages interpret yo yachel d’varo – if he doesn’t profane his speech, if he doesn’t waste this awesome power on the trivial and the debased, k’chol hayotzei mipiv (H”) ya’aseh – everything that comes out of his mouth (HaShem) will uphold. Gd has given us the power to bind all of creation back to its source. May HaShem bless us and strengthen us so that we always use that power properly! Rafi Rabinoff July 11, 2009/19 Tammuz, 5769 Pinchas Hashem was incensed with the Israelites who profaned themselves by whoring with the Moabite women and worshiping their god. Due to this there was a plague among the Israelites. Hashem told Moses to “Take all the ringleaders and have them publicly impaled before the Lord so that the Lord’s wrath may turn away from Israel.” Just then an Israelite (who was the son of a chieftain) brought a Midianite women (who was the daughter of a tribal head of Midian) over to his companions in the sight of Moses and the whole Israelite community, who were weeping in front of the Tent of Meeting. Pinchas left the assembly, followed them into the chamber and stabbed them with a sword. This assuaged Hashem’s wrath and the plague was stopped. That was how last week’s parasha, Hukkat ended. This week’s parasha begins with, “The Lord spoke to Moses, saying, “Pinchas, son of Eleazar, son of Aaron the priest, has turned back My wrath from the Israelites by displaying among them his passion for Me, so that I did not wipe out the Israelite people in My passion. Say therefore, ‘I grant him My pact of friendship. It shall be for him and his descendants after him a pact of priesthood for all time, because he took impassioned action for his G-d, thus making expiation for the Israelites.’” This covenant is one of only five issued by Hashem: The promise to Noah that humanity will not be destroyed, the promise of seed and soil to Abraham, the Torah to Moses and Israel and dynasties to Pinchas and David (cf. Jer. 33:19-22; Ps 89:29-38) (The JPS Torah Commentary, Numbers; 1989, pages 211-18). “The rabbis were uncomfortable with Phinchas’ act. He set a dangerous precedent by taking the law into his own hands and slaying a man impulsively in disregard of the law.” (The JPS Torah Commentary, Numbers 1989, pages 211-18). This event may be viewed politically when related to the victory of Zadok (a descendant of Pinchas) over Abiathar (a descendant of Itmar). They served jointly as High Priests during the reign of David, but Solomon banished Abiathar from his office as told in I Kings 2:26-27 (see I Sam. 2:27-36), leaving the High Priesthood exclusively to the line of Pinchas. However, the Torah text mentions “priesthood” not High Priesthood. (The JPS Torah Commentary, Numbers; 1989, pages 211-18). While I recognize the bravery of Phinchas’ act, I am glad that some commentators were concerned about the dangers of this type of zealousness. Shabbat Shalom, Jeff Rose July 4, 2009/12 Tammuz, 5769 Balak
Balak, king of the Moabites, having seen what the Israelites did in battle
against the Canaanites, Ammorites and Og, king of Bashan, joins with the
Midianites to hire Bilam, a prophet of God, in an attempt to defeat Israel
by other than military means. God, however, would not allow Bilam the
words to crush the Israelites, but their own immorality kills 24,000 of
them. Pinchas, son of Elazar, son of Aaron, by taking drastic action,
puts a stop to the deaths. June 27, 2009/5 Tammuz, 5769 Korach Rashi to Bamidbar 16:7 brings a well-known Midrash Tanchuma: “What did Korach see that made him go astray the way he did? He saw that in the future Shmuel would arise from him, who is compared to Moshe and Aharon together. He reasoned ‘If such greatness is destined to come from me, surely I am the one Gd will choose [when they all brought incense in the “contest” Moshe declared to sort out the rightful line of authority].’ But his mistake was that he didn’t see that his sons would do t’shuvah [and that his involvement in producing Shmuel was therefore completed, and couldn’t be used as a basis for decision-making in the future]…” (My paraphrase). We must understand that the Torah does not deal with zhlubs. The sinners we read about were great leaders of our people, people of outstanding spiritual stature. What we learn from this is that even those of great spiritual stature (perhaps we should say especially those of great spiritual stature) can sin, and when they do the consequences are that much more severe. As we progress in our own spiritual development therefore we must apply the same principle to ourselves and be ever more careful to make the right choices. In modern educational lingo it’s called “adaptive learning.” Once you pass one set of tests, you’re presented with a new, more challenging set of tests, until you’ve completely mastered the material. This fact, that even the greatest leaders will err on occasion, presents us with a dilemma when it comes to the governance of Klal Yisrael. In Deuteronomy Moshe Rabbeinu tells the nation not to worry about his impending departure, because Gd will provide a prophet “like me” to lead the people. Leaving aside the fact that apparently even Moshe Rabbeinu was capable of error (striking the rock), there certainly was never a prophet “like Moshe” in level of prophecy or spiritual attainment. We have certainly had many great leaders – Shmuel for example – but they have not been at Moshe’s level (perhaps because the nation did not deserve such leadership, perhaps because the level of sin in the nation clouded the atmosphere and blocked the prophet’s vision, perhaps both). We have also endured periods when the quality of leadership hasn’t been as great (the whole history of the Northern Kingdom comes to mind). Furthermore, we see that even when someone is endowed with a great level of ruach haKodesh they can still get off the path (led by their own individual agendas and desires) and lead others astray. The answer to this conundrum that the Jewish people has evolved is to balance the governance of the prophet with the governance of the Rabbis. The Rabbinical method is as firmly rooted on earth as prophecy is rooted in heaven. The Talmud records the famous dispute about the “oven of Achnai,” where a voice from heaven supported the view of R. Eliezer. His chief disputant, R. Yehoshua, arose and declared “It is not in Heaven” (Deut 20:12) – meaning once the Torah was given it was up to human beings, using human reasoning and not prophecy or superhuman insight, to interpret the Torah and apply it to practical problems. Prophecy is wonderful for insight, and of course many of the Sages of the Talmud, and probably many in post-Talmudic times had attained ruach haKodesh, but it always has to be balanced with the logical, discursive halachic method. In other words, both halves of Klal Yisrael’s collective brain must be engaged. The issue of governance of Klal Yisrael is absolutely germane and quite pressing today, now that we have a state once again, with a majority, or close to a majority, of world Jewry living there. Israel has a Chief Rabbinate, and that office is now in the hands of what many regard as an extreme wing of Orthodoxy. In recent months the Chief Rabbinical Court retroactively invalidated thousands of Orthodox conversions performed under the auspices of a respected Orthodox Rabbi, leaving the status of thousands of families and their children in halachic limbo. One of the judges defended the court’s action by saying it was in accord with the opinion of one of the leading sages of our generation. What was of most concern in his statement however was the assertion that this Sage was the Gadol haDor and his rulings therefore had to be obeyed absolutely – a sort of principle of Rabbinic infallibility. Even accepting the gadlut of this particular Sage, and that he can see more clearly than we can because of his elevated stature gained from years of selfless toil in Torah – nevertheless we see from Korach and from R. Eliezer how dangerous it is to short-circuit the halachic process of vigorous debate and respect for varying opinions (and those who hold them). The machloket of Korach and his group is cited in Pirke Avot as the paradigm of a dispute that is not for the sake of heaven. Let us pray that we as a people can resolve these issues in an uplifting way, like the disputes between Bet Shammai and Bet Hillel instead. Shabbat shalom, Rafi Rabinoff
June 20, 2009/28 Sivan, 5769 Shelach Parshat Shelach has always been one of my favorite parshiot, and it’s not only because it’s my Bar Mitzvah parsha. This is the quintessential Zionistic parsha, and every year it speaks to me in a different way. This year, as my family and I are close to entering the land of Israel, the parsha resonates with me in a completely new way. The story of the spies is one of the most famous stories in the Torah, and also one the Israelites biggest blunders. To paraphrase Abba Eban, the Israelites never missed an opportunity to miss an opportunity. They were provided with many blessings and opportunities following the Exodus from Egypt, but many times they complained about their blessings, and shunned the opportunities G-d provided for them. The opportunity to settle the land of Israel within two years of the Exodus would be lost to this generation of Israelites in this week’s parsha. In reviewing the sin of the spies, I question whose sin was bigger: the spies for providing a negative report, or the Israelites for believing them? It would seem that the spies’ sin was greater, as their punishment was immediate death, while the Israelites were doomed to another 38+ years of exile. When I tell people that I am making Aliyah, the response is often “Are you crazy?” or something to that effect. People hear reports about Israel in the news and their perception of Israel is very similar to that of the spies; “It is a land that devours its inhabitants.” However, we should all know that this is a false perception. Our “wonderful” media only focuses on all the negative aspects of Israel, without putting anything in context. In this respect, they follow the same pattern as the spies, although at least the spies reported that the land was flowing with milk and honey. I’m sure there were lactose intolerant Israelites complaining about that as well. It also comes down to a question of faith. The Israelites demonstrated that they did not have faith in G-d to bring them to the land safely. As a result, they were not given the honor of settling the land. My response to “Are you crazy?” is that I have faith in G-d. I focus on the positive, which is quite a lot, and on the miracle that is the modern State of Israel. Israel is the one place on earth where we can live in a completely Jewish environment. Making Aliyah will be my own personal fulfillment of G-d’s promise to the Jewish People, and to the words of Theodore Herzl: “If you will it, it is no dream.”
Shabbat Shalom, June 13, 2009/21 Sivan, 5769 Beha'alotecha In the book of Numbers the Torah establishes precepts regarding The Tent of Meeting. For example, in last week's portion, Naso, we learned about the dedication of the Altar. As the children of Israel travel in the wilderness, they experience new elements that define their relationships with the Almighty. While in the wilderness, the Israelis are protected by the Cloud of Glory which represents the Almighty's continued presence and also represents his promise to care for them in this hostile environment. This idea implies that within this new environment the Almighty's promises will be kept. The new elements establish new societal and organizational patterns from those existing with the collective people that left Egypt. The new elements can be portrayed through the order of encampment, with the Tabernacle in the midst of the camp, and with particular group and individual responsibilities within the society. Beha'alotecha discusses roles and activities for Levites (Num 8:6-26). Particularly, Levites would serve the Almighty in the Tent of Meeting "as a replacement for all the first born children of Israel" (who had performed the holy services) and "to do service for the children of Israel...and to make atonement for the children of Israel." (Num 8:18-19). Prior to being assigned these privileges, Levites had to be ritually cleansed and presented to the entire congregation. Were Levites a source of atonement for both the entire people and themselves? Rashi suggests that their ritual cleansing was an expiation for the sin of the Golden Calf. A related idea is whether Levites' ability to effect atonement for the people introduces new "paths to atonement" in the Israelites relationships with the Almighty? In current society, how do we envision our "paths to atonement"? Shabbat Shalom Steven Puro June 6, 2009/14 Sivan, 5769 Naso
This parashah--Naso--considers
the importance and value of each Jew to the people of
Israel. The
Talmud instructs us regarding the value of each individual, so much
so that each person is "worthy of the entire world existing for his/her
sake." Two distinctive features of Judaism are: Shabbat shalom, Steven Puro May 23, 2009/29 Iyar, 5769 Bamidbar Bamidbar or “in the wilderness,” the fourth book in the Torah, is named in Hebrew from the first significant word in the book. In English it is better known as the Book of Numbers, and in effect it teaches us about the counting or census of the Israelites among other things. According to the Encyclopedia Judaica, Bamidbar has a broad outline, which begins from preparations for the departure from Sinai and ending with the stay in Shittim in Moab opposite Jericho. It provides information about the experience of the Israelites en route to the “Promised Land,” from the site of revelation to the site of incipient occupation. The first chapters of the Book of Numbers deals with a census, the preparations for the desert marches and encampments, and the distribution of the tribes around the tabernacle, or “Mishkan.” It describes the hierarchy utilized to distribute the tribes around the Communion Tent, or portable sanctuary, in the four main cardinal points (East, West, North and South).
The word “census” originates
from the Latin word ‘censere,’ meaning estimate.
Censuses are frequently described in history. In Egypt during the early
Pharaonic period (3,340 BC), in the Persian Empire (550 BC), in India, China and
Rome census served for military and taxation purposes as well as for collection
of population statistics.
In Parasha Bamidbar, the
census served several purposes. The Ramban writes that “to enumerate the various
tribes was necessary for the purpose of placing them in proper formation
according to groups and banners”. It is also suggested that the census served
God to emphasize the kindness shown to His people. In the counting of each
individual separately, God wanted to underscore the importance and primacy of
each person. No doubt the census also followed a military purpose, knowing the
number of Israelites capable of bearing arms.
The tally took place on the
first day, of the second month in the second year in the desert. The census
included all men aged twenty or more and defined the overall total as well as
the number of people in each tribe. The entire count was 603,550 without
counting the Levites. The Levites had the privileged status of God’s servants,
and deserved to be count separately. Their census included everyone from one
month of age and totaled 22,300.
Then God commanded Moses to
organize the Israelites by four groups of three tribes each and assigned them
positions around the portable sanctuary. The Levites, in charge of the Mishkan,
were the only ones in close contact with the Communion tent and in turn were
protected by all the tribes situated around them to the East, West, North and
South. The configuration that included the 12 tribes, the Levites and the
Mishkan were guided and protected by clouds -7 of them- and that’s the way the
marched and camped.
Parasha Bamidbar reminds us
that organization (census), hierarchy (the Levites closer to the Communion
Tent), protection (the Mishkan at the center of the conformation) and the
ability to defend oneself (Israelites capable of bear arms) are concepts or
principles that appear daily in our life, and if they are adequately applied,
they are templates for a better and successful existence. Shabbat shalom, Mauricio Lisker-Melman May 9, 2009/15 Iyar, 5769 Emor
This week's Torah portion
opens with the statement that the kohanim, who were to function at the
highest levels of sanctity are required to maintain themselves sacrally
eligible and avoid defilement, which primarily comes from a human corpse. This statement from the Talmud makes the point that in some situations "too frum," being overly scrupulous in perceived obligations to God may turn out to be not observant of God's will at all. Frumkeit which causes another hurt, when alternatives within the wide parameters of legitimate halachic interpretation could prevent it, would, it seems to me, be "too frum" and no piety at all. When the late Rabbi Joseph B. Soleveichik's grandfather, Reb Chayim Brisker was confronted as being maykil (lenient) when it came to allowing a hungry congregant to eat on Yom Hakippurim, he responded "I am not maykil (lenient) regarding Yom Hakippurim. I am machmir (stringent) with regard to pikuach nefesh (saving a life)."
Leniency concerning questions
of kashrut may in reality be stringency with regard to concern for another's
money and concern for the widest possible inclusiveness for kashrut observance.
Making use of halachic possibilities that serve to include other Jews may turn
out to be not being maykil (lenient) in defining "Who is a Jew?" but rather
machmir (stringent) when it comes to ahavat yisrael (love of Jews) and achdut
yisrael (unity of Jews). Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Ephraim Zimand May 2, 2009/8 Iyar, 5769 Acharei Mot/Kedoshim There are moments in the life of any spiritually sensitive soul when s/he longs to scale the heights and loose the bounds to achieve union with God. And who could blame him/her? One can imagine the Kohen Hagadol in the Kodesh HaKodeshim on Yom HaKippurim feeling such a moment coming on. This week’s Torah portion, it seems to me, addresses that exact situation: ויקרא טז:א – וידבר ה' אל משה אחרי מות שני בני אהרן בקרבתם לפני ה' וימתו. ב – ויאמר ה' אל משה דבר אל אהרן אחיך ואל יבא בכל עת אל הקדש מבית לפרכת אל פני הכפרת אשר על הארן ולא ימות כי בענן אראה על הכפרת. ג – בזאת יבא אהרן אל הקדש... Leviticus 16:1 – God spoke to Moses following the death of Aaron’s two sons when they approached God and died. 2 – God said to Moses: speak to your brother Aaron that he should not at any time enter the Shrine behind the curtain which is in front of the cover upon the Ark, that he not die, because I appear in a cloud hovering over the cover. 3 – Only thus shall Aaron enter the Shrine… What follows, of course, is the detailed Tabernacle (and later, Temple) Yom HaKippurim Service. The implication of juxtaposing the death of Nadav and Avihu, Aaron’s two eldest sons, for bringing an uncalled for fire on the day the Tabernacle was inaugurated seems pretty clear. No doubt Nadav and Avihu were extremely sensitive souls. Overcome by the heightened spirituality of the moment of God’s manifestation in the Tabernacle they certainly would want to rise even higher towards God. In the spontaneity of the moment they chose to add their own “fire” to the fire already offered. As the Torah reports it (Lev. 10:2) the results were disastrous. They were consumed in flames before God. By juxtaposing this incident as introduction to Aaron being instructed in the elements of the Yom HaKippurim Service, God, through Moses, seems to be cautioning Aaron that though a desire to cleave to God is admirable, it is not a license for boundless enthusiasm. Aaron’s entry into the Kodesh HaKodeshim is circumscribed, and going beyond is fraught with danger. Spiritual seeking is certainly desirable. But this Torah portion, it seems to me, teaches us that in an authentic Judaic expression thereof, it is to be a “disciplined spirituality” sought with “controlled spontaneity.” April 25, 2009/2 Iyar, 5769 Tazria-Metzora Last week’s parasha concluded with the section of the Torah which outlined for us the regulations regarding which species of animals, fish and fowl we may choose for our consumption; in short, which animals may be considered kosher and which may not. This week’s double portion Tazria-Metzora spends a great deal of time with the issue of tzaraat – usually translated as “leprosy”. On the surface (no pun intended) we seem to be instructed regarding a health issue. However, for our Sages, it represented a physical manifestation of a moral malady, viz. slander. Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish in the Talmudic tractate Archin interprets the opening words of Chapter 14 of Leviticus (14:2). “This should be the instructions regarding the metzora (leper)…” “This should be the instructions regarding the motzi shem ra (slanderer) …” Rabbi Shamon ben Lakish makes his point with a Hebrew play on words, breaking down the word grumn-metzora into component parts, gr oa thmun-MOTZi Shem RA. The question i would ask you to think about before reading further is what significance could you attribute to the Torah’s choice to juxtapose the regulations regarding kashrut and those regarding tzaraat, understood as a consequence of slander? Rabbi Yisrael Salanter, the founder of the Mussar school within Judaism, suggests the significance can be found in the fact that both are connected to our mouth, the food we put in it and the words that come out of it. By putting them close together, Rabbi Salanter suggests the Torah is striving to have us understand that the same care we exercise in determining that the foods we put into our mouth shall meet the highest standards of kashrut so should we make sure that the words that emanate from our mouth meet, not only the highest standards of truth, but also the highest standards of kindness and gentleness.
April 18, 2009/24 Nisan, 5769 Shmini Children are always pushing their parents, seeking to determine where their boundaries are. This is a normal part of the maturation process. As the nascent Jewish nation goes up to the Land of Israel we see a similar process of maturation, and, as is the case with children, sometimes there are growing pains. In the case of the Jewish people, the establishment of proper boundaries is absolutely critical, for it is only through these boundaries that we can approach Gd, Who is unbounded and infinite. We can see explicitly what happens when the proper boundaries are breached in a number of the parshiot leading up to this one. In Parashat Yitro we are introduced to the necessity of boundaries. Moshe Rabbeinu is told to set a boundary around Mt. Sinai, and neither man nor beast is to be allowed on the mountain while Gd’s Presence was there. During the Revelation itself of course the people are afraid and “stand far off,” and ask Moshe to be an intermediary for them when communicating with Gd “lest we die.” In Parashat Ki Tisa we find the people afraid that Moshe Rabbeinu was lost on Mt. Sinai and they force Aharon to make them a substitute – the infamous golden calf. Although the commentators go to great lengths to show that the golden calf was not an idol, clearly Gd considered the whole incident inappropriate, and we feel the repercussions to this day. What was inappropriate about it – the people were sincerely concerned that their connection with the Divine was lost, and they were earnestly seeking to re-establish that connection? Perhaps we can say that what was inappropriate was that they were going about it in the wrong way – that is, in a way that was not sanctioned by Gd. Which brings us to our Parashah, and the situation with Nadav and Avihu. They too, as attested to by Moshe Rabbeinu himself, were on the highest of spiritual levels. The desired nothing more than to draw close to the Divine, and they understood that the incense service was a particularly powerful way to accomplish this. What was wrong with their offering? The commentators offer many reasons for the action Gd took against Nadav and Avihu: they sought to supplant Moshe and Aharon as leaders of Clal Yisrael; they decided questions of halachah themselves in the domain of their teacher (Moshe Rabbeinu); they were punished for being among those who “gazed at the Divine Presence and ate and drank” (in Parashat Yitro). The text says that they “offered strange fire which they were not commanded to offer” (and the Hebrew can be read “which they were commanded not to offer). I think the common thread in all these approaches is that they broke through proper boundaries in their zeal to attach themselves to the Holy, the transcendent. We see that it is absolutely necessary to strike a balance in our approach to the Divine. To be sure, we have to have a Holy fire burning within us, driving us forward, keeping us on point, reminding us at every moment that our (re)connection with the transcendent is the very purpose of our existence, “putting H” before us always.” On the other hand, we know what happens when a fire gets out of control. The line “playing with matches a girl could get burned” is a lot more than a clever pun in a musical. Without the proper boundaries and the proper control over our inner fire, we will be consumed and never reach our goal. Along with burning love of Gd we need to have fear of Gd as well. We can never let ourselves get too familiar with the King. The King knows His creatures, and as much as He may long for us to draw near, He wants us to draw near for our benefit, not for our destruction. Our Parashah ends with the laws of kashrut, which Torah tells us, are given to us so we should be holy. How odd that some arcane, incomprehensible rules about what we may and may not eat appear to be the culmination of such a momentous day. Perhaps Torah is telling us that when it comes to approaching the King, we cannot trust our limited intellect. If we do, we can hope for partial results at best. If we trust the beneficence of the King and follow His rules, then we can fulfill the purpose of our existence and of creation by becoming bound up with Him in the bonds of life. Shabbat shalom, Rafi Rabinoff April 4, 2009/10 Nisan, 5769 Tzav
This
week's portion continues the theme of the sacrificial service. There are
many suggestions as to the reasoning behind this enigmatic, yet important
element of our tradition. March 28, 2009/3 Nisan, 5769 Vayikra A theme that runs through all of Jewish thought is the primacy of the trait of humility. Thus, for example, Moshe is singled out as “more humble than any person on the face of the earth.” Moshe receives his call from within the lowly thorn-bush and Israel receives the Torah on lowly Mt. Sinai. Our Sages even describe Gd as being humble: “R. Yochanan said: Wherever you find Gd’s grandeur extolled, there you find His ‘humility’ as well.” (Megillah). (R. Yochanan goes on to give one example each from Torah, Nevi’im and Ketuvim.) In the Middle Ages, Ramban describes humility as “the finest of all good character traits.” (Iggeret HaRamban) There are two places in our parashah as well where our Sages bring out the beauty of humility. The first word of the Parashah (and of the Sefer) is Vayikra, which means “He (Gd) called (to Moshe).” The orthography in the Sefer Torah is unusual – the aleph at the end of vayikra (vav-yod-kuf-aleph) is written smaller than the other letters. Were the aleph not there the word would be “vayikar” which also has the meaning to call, but has less pleasing overtones as well – it conveys the idea of happenstance and of impurity. This is the way Gd “called” to the wicked Bilaam, and our Sages tell us that Moshe, in his humility, didn’t want to write vayikra and make himself look better than Bilaam. Gd insisted, so Moshe compromised and wrote the aleph smaller than normal, and Gd acquiesced. The Midrash tells us that the ink that Moshe “saved” was applied to his face and from it his face shined forth such a brilliance that nobody could gaze at his face, and he had to wear a mask or a veil to go about in society (as we read in parashat Ki Tisa). Later, in describing the meal offering (minchah), which was the least expensive offering and therefore was brought by the poorest members of society, Torah says “If a soul will bring a meal-offering… .” In the case of animal or bird offerings, the more generic “If a person will bring… .” Thus the poor and the humble are described in more glowing and heartfelt terms than the rich and powerful. What then, is this quality of humility, and why is it so great? Certainly Moshe Rabbenu was neither timid nor foolish. He more than anyone was fully aware of his level of prophecy, and that he was closer to Gd than anyone before or since. I think that it is precisely this closeness to Gd that made Moshe Rabbenu so humble, and conversely, his humility allowed him to get ever closer to Gd. How so? Any of us who have had the privilege of being around a truly great person knows how humbling the experience can be. It is as if we have a model of the ideal human being in front of us, and it serves to highlight to us our failures and shortcomings. It is as if all our rationalizations and excuses just fall by the wayside, and we see ourselves as we really are. This is not a negative thing -- the inspiration and insight we receive from that person’s very presence propels us to improve ourselves and to make ourselves closer to the ideal that is before us. If this is true of a great person, how much more so when we stand in the presence of the King of Kings! In that bright light, t’shuvah is almost automatic, for we know that no matter how we twist and turn things, we can’t fool Gd. So we give up trying to fool ourselves as well. If closeness to Gd leads to humility, humility also leads to closeness to Gd. A truly humble person can evaluate his/her own status vis-à-vis Gd and Gd’s universe most accurately. Compared to Gd’s infinity, our finite lives are nothing. When we gain this perspective we cease to evaluate all the pettiness of our lives as having any worth. And when we do this, we finally get our ego out of the way and allow Gd to bring us close to Him and to shower us with blessings. In this surrender our lives finally become full and worth living. Rafi Rabinoff March 21, 2009/25 Adar, 5769 Vayachel-Pekuday Parashat Vayakhel opens with the commandment of Shabbat. This is not the first time that G-d has commanded the Children of Israel to observe Shabbat. On five previous occasions in the book of Exodus alone, we read about the commandment of observing Shabbat. Each time we read about the commandment to observe Shabbat, we learn more about the purpose of Shabbat, as well as additional details of what we are expected to do, or not do, on Shabbat. A common motif regarding the commandment of Shabbat is the concept of rest. Six days we are told to labor, but the seventh day, we are told to rest. We are also provided with several explanations for the observance of Shabbat, with the most well known being that G-d created the world in six days, but on the seventh He rested. In Parashat Vayakhel, we are told that the punishment for whoever violates Shabbat is death. Why are we told about the punishment for violating Shabbat in this Parasha, and not the previous five times when G-d commanded us to observe Shabbat? According to Rashi, the commandment to observe Shabbat is placed here to inform the Israelites not to violate the Shabbat with the building of the Tabernacle. Perhaps G-d felt it was necessary to make it clear to the People not to violate the Shabbat, even for the sake of another commandment, so He explicitly says what will happen if one engages in prohibited activities on Shabbat. If we look at the relationship between G-d and the Children of Israel as a parent-child relationship, we may get another insight as to why we are told what the punishment will be if we violate the Shabbat. Like any parent, G-d lays down the law for His children, and hopes His children will follow His instructions, without having to issue threats. Perhaps it is only after the sin of the golden calf that G-d feels His children need to know what their punishment will be if they do not follow His commandments. Children do not always understand why their parent’s place restrictions on them. They do not realize that their parents have their best interest at heart. G-d knows we need a day of rest, even when we think we are too busy to take a day off and stop what we are doing. So the next time someone wishes you Shabbat Shalom (peaceful Shabbat), remember they are not just speaking for themselves, but for G-d as well. Shabbat Shalom Zumi Brody March 14, 2009/18 Adar, 5769 Ki Tissah In this week’s parsha, Moses receives the two tablets inscribed by the finger of G-d, which contain the Decalogue. As you may recall, in Parshat Yitro, the Israelites received the Decalogue orally. At the time, they indicated they will do and they will listen. However, this was more of a theoretical acceptance of the laws contained in the Torah, without going into the specifics. Just like children who often agree to something in theory, but when it’s time to execute they don’t follow through, so, too, the Israelites agree to follow the law in theory, but when faced with a challenge, they abandon the law that was only recently given to them. After 40 days on Mount Sinai, it appears to the Israelites that Moses is delayed from coming down the mountain. They assume the worst, and ask Aaron to make for them gods to lead them. Aaron could have responded to the people that this was a clear violation of the law that they had just recently received and accepted at Sinai. Instead, Aaron accedes to the wishes of the people and collects their gold rings to fashion a golden calf. Instead of doing what they know to be right in G-d’s eyes, the people decided to take the law into their own hands and do what they thought would be best. In many ways, the story of the golden calf parallels the Jewish People in the modern era. For approximately 1700 years since the destruction of the second Temple, the Jewish People faithfully followed the commandments and precepts as prescribed by the Torah. They did this in spite of the hardships they had to face as a result of their faith. In the modern era, in their quest to gain equal rights in the countries where they lived, some Jews decided to amend the laws of the Torah that no longer fit in with their worldview. Like the Israelites at Sinai, they decided to take the law into their own hands, and change what Jews had believed for centuries was our G-d given law. At Sinai, thousands of Israelites were killed as a result of the golden calf. In the modern era, thousands of Jews are being lost to assimilation. The Israelites of Sinai did receive a second chance, and G-d forgave the people. In the modern era, we have been given the privilege of reestablishing the Jewish State, where we have the freedom to shape our own destiny, while following the words of the Torah. Perhaps, it is in this way that G-d has given the Jews of the modern era a second chance. Shabbat Shalom! Zumi Brody March 7, 2009/11 Adar, 5769 Titzaveh The Torah portion opens with God’s charge to the Israelites to provide olive oil for use in the Tabernacle menorah. (Ex. 27:20-21) It also briefly describes its manufacture and procedure. In establishing the purpose for the olive oil, the Torah says, “I’ha’a lot nayr tamid.” Though the intended meaning of the word is “to kindle lights regularly,” they literally mean “to raise or elevate lights regularly.” Rashi, troubled by the use of the verb – “to raise or elevate”—unusual in connection with lighting flames—quotes the Talmud (Shabbat 21), “He (the kohen) ignites the flame until it rises on its own.” The use of the unusual—in this context—verb, “to raise or elevate” teaches us, says the Talmud, that the procedure of lighting the menorah in the Tabernacle was for the kohen to ascertain that the flame, once ignited, was self-sustaining. The imagery works well as a metaphor for education, as well, particularly for Jewish Education. If the kohen represents the teacher and the flame symbolizes the learner’s education, then it is the function of the teacher not to just fill the learner with information, but to make the learner self-sustaining educationally. In the Jewish education of children, the role of the teacher is filled not only—maybe not even mainly—by rabbi and Jewish educators, but by parents. Each of us—rabbi, teacher and parents, working together—has the task of nurturing and educating the child to become Jewishly self-sustaining. The flame in the Menorah once ignited must be capable of rising on its own. Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Ephraim Zimand February 28, 2009/4 Adar, 5769 Terumah
From a strictly halakhic perspective, the kindling of the
menorah is not an act of serving God. No doubt the menorah is a holy
object, but still the Talmud concludes
that "lighting [it] is not considered a service." (Yoma 24b)
Shabbat shalom,
February 21, 2009/27 Shevat, 5769 Mishpatim Among its 53 mitzvot, Parashat Mishpatim discusses the punishment for (intentional) murder, (accidental) manslaughter, and bodily injury. The text provides scenarios that illuminate the fine distinctions of the law. One of the examples is the following (Shemot 21:22-25): 22) If men fight and collide with a pregnant woman and her babies go out, but there is no harm, he will certainly be punished as the husband of the woman assesses against him, and he shall give (pay) according to the judges. 23) But if there is harm, he shall give (pay) a life for a life. 24-25) An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, etc.
It is a difficult passage. Yet its rabbinic understanding is highly relevant. Upon first encounter, one might think that “there is no harm” means that the babies survive, and that “there is harm” means that the babies die. But if that’s the appropriate interpretation, for what exactly is the accidental assailant liable if the babies survive? And how can one explain the inclusion of “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, etc.” as part of the punishment for the death of the babies? Our tradition accepts a different interpretation, which is reflected in the Talmud, Mechilta, classic Torah commentaries, and later halachic (legal) rulings. Accordingly, “her babies go out” means that she miscarries, i.e., that the fetuses are delivered dead; “there is no harm” means that the mother is not injured; and “there is harm” means that the mother dies or is injured. Paraphrasing, the text can now be read as: Suppose a man accidentally strikes a pregnant woman and she miscarries. If she is not physically injured, the man shall pay a fine as requested by the woman’s husband and approved by the court (to cover emotional distress and/or the lost future economic value of a child). But if the woman dies or is physically injured, the man shall pay a life for a life, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, etc. The rabbinic interpretation of this difficult passage implies that causing an abortion is neither murder nor manslaughter, since its stated punishment (a fine) is less severe than the previously stated punishments for murder (death) and manslaughter (exile). In other words, a fetus is not equivalent to a person. The paths from this starting point to the halachic positions regarding abortion are too complicated to explore here. First and foremost, one must recognize that this text discusses accidental abortion, not intentional abortion, and applies only to Jews. But nonetheless the text’s message is crucial: Judaism does not consider a fetus to be equivalent to a person. Indeed, all halachic rulings on intentional abortion fall between the pro-choice and pro-life extremes that dominate the debate in American society. Shabbat shalom, Jeffrey Melnick February 14, 2009/20 Shevat, 5769 Yisro “In the third month from the Exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt, on this day, they arrived at the Wilderness of Sinai.” They camped opposite the mountain. Moses was familiar with this area because it was at this same mountain where he saw the Burning Bush. Three days later in an awesome display, Hashem revealed Himself to the Israelites, on the Mountain. Then Hashem spoke the Ten Commandments, which were the rules they had to practice as His special people, a kingdom of ministers, a Holy people. “A Jew by the very condition of his Jewishness pays the continuing price of Sinai. If Jewishness remains his fate, Judaism remains the framework of his native spiritual existence and G-d his partner.” Each generation should regard itself as standing at Sinai, says the Passover ritual; as one people, miraculously delivered, in the wilderness, trembling before G-d, His treasured possession. As long as we keep alive the consciousness of Sinai each Jew can find their roots. “The berit was his father’s but it is his also”(The Torah: A Modern Commentary, W. G. Plaut 1981). The people had seen Hashem’s heavenly presence, therefore He didn’t want them to make images; gods of silver and gods of gold for themselves but rather, “An Altar of earth shall you make for Me and you shall slaughter near it your elevation-offerings and your peace-offerings, your flock and your herd; wherever I permit My Name to be mentioned I shall come to you and bless you.” May our synagogue and all places of worship continue to merit Hashem’s presence. Shabbat Shalom, Jeff Rose February 7, 2009/13 Shevat, 5769 Beshalach
Although
the Torah often points out the infinite value of every human life, this week's
parsha gives a clear message about the value of Jewish life. We are told that
no one will be permitted to murder Jews with impunity. January 31, 2009/6 Shevat, 5769 Bo I once saw a Peanuts cartoon – Linus was telling Charlie Brown about a football game where the home team pulled out a thrilling 7-6 victory with a last-second touchdown. Charlie Brown’s response was, “But how did the other team feel?” In Parashat Bo the redemption from Egyptian bondage reaches its fulfillment and the Jews leave Egypt “with a high hand.” This might be a good time to take a look at how the other team got themselves into the situation they were in. We can characterize Pharaoh’s behavior in the period leading up to the Exodus with a few choice words: Greed, Insensitivity, Brutality, Arrogance, Blindness. In fact, Pharaoh provides a wonderful object lesson in how not to govern a country. It begins with greed. Greedy people need to feed off the labor and creativity of others. Greed leads to slavery, and the slavery need not be of the Simon Legree sort. Exploitation of workers is a kind of slavery. Outsourcing manufacture to countries with known human-rights issues is a kind of slavery. Dulling the population’s consciousness is a kind of slavery. Eventually, the greedy person becomes a slave himself, slave to his desires and passions, chained to those he keeps in chains so that he can maintain his lifestyle. Greed leads to insensitivity and brutality. Insensitivity and brutality are direct outcomes of viewing people as objects. A slave is not a person. A slave is chattel – no better than an ox or an ass, and, being intelligent, somewhat more dangerous. His humanity must be suppressed at all costs. The economy depends on it. That’s why Pharaoh had his overseers, and mine owners had their Pinkertons. Being a master of others leads to arrogance. In Pharaoh’s case it led him to believe that he was a god, hence “Who is H” that I should listen to Him?” Pharaoh surrounded himself with sycophants. Only after seven plagues did anyone summon up enough nerve to tell Pharaoh “Don’t you realize yet that Egypt is [being] destroyed?!” Pharaoh believed that with the technology at his command (there is a dispute among the Rishonim whether or not “sorcery” as practiced by the Egyptians and other ancient people was just sleight-of-hand or a real understanding and manipulation of subtle natural laws) he could accomplish anything, for good or ill. He imagined himself to be all-powerful. Finally, this arrogance led to an incredible blindness, perhaps symbolized by the plague of darkness. Plague after plague struck Egypt, penetrating right to the center of the palace, exactly as Moshe had predicted, and yet there was always an excuse, always a reason. When you read the account it makes you want to scream at the book “Wake up!” In fact, before the last, terrible plague, Moshe stalks away in anger that Pharaoh’s blindness and obtuseness would cost the lives of so many of his people. And he tells Pharaoh that Gd would strike their firstborn “around midnight.” Why the caginess? Our Sages explain that if the Egyptian astrologers had miscalculated the time and thought that the plague did not come exactly at midnight, they would call Moshe a liar and even the decimation of his population wouldn’t have woken Pharaoh up. We also read that at midnight when the cry of mourning went up all over Egypt, that Pharaoh “got up.” Rashi comments “from his bed.” Pharaoh was a firstborn and might have expected to die too, but he went to sleep! In fact, he was spiritually asleep/dead/blind the entire time. I am writing this just before Thanksgiving. By the time you read this we will have inaugurated a new President and will shortly elect a new government in Israel. Perhaps this is an opportune time to reflect on the plagues that have struck us – terrorism, war, financial crises, crime, poverty, spiritual torpor, global warming, air and water pollution – and think carefully whether we are all that different from Pharaoh. Hopefully we can wake up before our world is destroyed. Shabbat shalom, Rafi Rabinoff Jan. 24, 2009/28 Tevet, 5769 Va'era This week’s Parasha, Va'era opens with God encouraging Moses after the initial failure of his mission to Pharaoh. God instructs Moses to return and demand the release of the Israelite slaves. God assures Moses that he will eventually succeed because God intends to fulfill the covenant He made with the ancestors to grant their descendants the Land of Canaan in which the ancestors sojourned. Furthermore, God says: “In addition I have heard the moans of the Israelites whom Egypt is enslaving and I have recalled My covenant” (Exodus 6:5)." That is to say that God, in addition to planning to fulfill the covenant made with the ancestors because He promised He would, is further motivated to do so at this time because He has heard the cries of the oppressed Israelites. However, it is also possible to legitimately translate the above verse somewhat differently as follows: “I also have heard the moans of the Israelites whom Egypt is enslaving, and I have recalled my covenant.” The above translation would imply that someone, beside God, heard the groans of the oppressed Israelites. This raises the question of who is the other being, or beings, who were affected by the lamenting Israelites? i hope you will take time to consider your response to this question before reading on. As found in Rabbi Menachem Hacohen’s, The Passover Haggadah: Legends and Customs, Rabbi Moses Schrieber of Pressburg, known from his magnum opus as the Chasam Sofer suggests the following answer: “It states in the Torah (Ex.6:5), I also have heard the moans of the Israelites whom Egypt in enslaving … We know the word “also” is meant to be inclusive. Who does it include here? What it teaches us is that even though all the Jews were enslaved, and that each one sighed for his own sorrows, nevertheless all heard the sighs of their fellows and felt their distress. It was because of this that God, also, heard their sighs.” i believe this insight imparts an important lesson to all of us. Regardless of the straits we may be in and the efforts and energies required to achieve relief, we must nevertheless be concerned with the difficulties and troubles others may be in. We may then pray and hope that God will see our concern and decide it is time to send redemption to us all. Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Ephraim Zimand Jan. 17, 2009/21 Tevet, 5769 Shemot The Book of Shemot opens by closing out the era of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, and beginning the history – and instruction – of the People under the leadership of Moses. The parasha of Shemot introduces us to Moses and covers 80 years – the first two-thirds of his life. The remainder of the Book of Shemot, and the other books of the Torah, deal with the rest of his life (40 years): his interaction with God and with the People of Israel, which begins in his 80th year. In itself, this proportion is not unusual for the Torah, since the Torah does not purport to be a book of biography, but a Book of Instruction or Guidance (thus its name TORAH). This being the case, it is certainly legitimate for us to ask ourselves the question, what might be the significance that of all the activities Moses engaged in up to the age of 80, the Torah found it important to tell us only these three: Moses’ protection of a Hebrew slave being beaten by an Egyptian taskmaster (Ex. 2:11,12); his interference in a scuffle between two Hebrews (Ex. 2:13,14); and his defense of seven Midian shepherdesses against a group of bullying Midian shepherds (Ex. 2:16,17). It would seem legitimate to suggest that the Torah intended us to see in these three incidents a quality, or qualities, that primed him to be the leader of the People of Israel, and the teacher of God’s Way. i would like to suggest that these three actions demonstrate Moses as a champion for justice in three disparate circumstances: between Jew and gentile, between Jew and Jew, and between gentile and gentile. It seems to me this quality of being concerned for justice regardless of who is the victim or who is the perpetrator is the essential bottom line of Torah and God’s Way. As support for this contention i would like to suggest two sources – one, Torah, and the other, Talmudic. Torah: (Genesis 18:18, 19) “Abraham is to become a great and populous nation, with all the nations of the earth blessing themselves through him. For I have singled him out to charge his children and his posterity to preserve the WAY OF GOD, ACTING WITH JUSTICE AND EQUITY, so that God may bring upon Abraham what was promised him.” Talmud: (Shabbat 31a) Hillel’s summation of the entire Torah in 25 words or less (i.e. while standing on one foot), “WHAT IS HATEFUL TO YOU, DO NOT DO TO YOUR COMPANION. THIS IS THE ALL OF TORAH, the rest is commentary. Now go and study.” Before everything else – but not in place of anything else – every person committed to God, Torah and mitzvot must be a champion for justice wherever injustice is found. That would seem to be a significance of Moses’ actions before his call by God. Shabbat Shalom, Ephraim I. Zimand Jan. 10, 2009/14 Tevet, 5769 Vayechi I am actually writing this on Hoshana Rabba, as we are preparing to read the last parashah of Devarim – V’zot HaBerachah. There are some obvious parallels between our parashah, the last of the Book of Bereishit, and the end of Devarim. In both, the departing leaders of Israel (Ya’akov Avinu in our parashah, Moshe Rabbeinu in Devarim) give their blessings to the 12 tribes, each according to its unique role in the development of Israel’s mission. And in both cases, these blessings come directly prior to the leader’s death. In both cases the leader wished to go back to Eretz Yisrael; in the case of both Ya’akov Avinu and Yosef (and all the brothers according to the Midrash) their wish was accommodated, while in the case of Moshe Rabbeinu it was not. There is one anti-parallel that I find very interesting, and that is particularly à propos to the season of t’shuvah that (formally) ends today. At the end of V’zot HaBerachah, Moshe Rabbeinu gives his whole-hearted blessing to the people. Although the previous parshiot in Devarim are filled with admonitions concerning Israel’s past sins and exhortations not to make the same mistakes in the future, and although many of the rebellions that Moshe Rabbeinu faced seemed to be directed at him personally, there apparently was not the slightest trace of any lingering grudge or hurt or resentment. Partly I think this is a testimony to Moshe Rabbeinu’s level of transcending his own individuality. Right before Gd sends the manna, Moshe (and Aharon) tell the Israelites “Who are we that you should be complaining against us?” We’re just agents of Gd; you may think you’re complaining against us, but it’s not really true. We are much too insignificant; you’re really complaining about Gd. Since Moshe Rabbeinu was too big (or too small, depending on how you look at it!) to absorb the people’s negativity, there was no negativity for him to reflect back when he blessed the people. At the end of Ya’akov Avinu’s life we find a somewhat different story. After the funeral, Yosef’s brothers feel constrained to go to Yosef and plead for mercy for having sold him down the river to Egypt. Yosef’s response is to tell them not to be afraid, that although they had meant him evil, Gd had turned it to good, and that he would take Gd’s perspective on the matter, rather than a petty human perspective. Apparently this put the brothers’ minds at ease, for we hear no more about the matter, other than that they all lived long lives and left the nation of Israel thriving and expanding. However, take a look at what is not said: The brothers ask for mercy, but they never ask Yosef to forgive them, nor really even admit that what they did was terribly wrong. And Yosef promises not to exact retribution on them, but he never verbally forgives them either. So each side of the family feud goes to the grave with this festering wound. Our Sages tell us that the episode of the Ten Martyrs (which we read during Yom Kippur) is a direct outcome of this lack of reconciliation. Not only is the Biblical story used as an excuse for the murder of the 10, but our Sages tell us that in fact those 10 leaders were reincarnations (gilgulim) of the 10 brothers who sold Yosef (Benjamin was not involved). In fact, R. Akiva, who suffered the most brutal torture of the 10, is said to be the reincarnation of Shimon, the ringleader of the plot. (See Artscroll’s Daily Dose of Torah on VaYechi for more on this; volume 3, pages 209ff.) How important is forgiveness! How important it is to ask for forgiveness, and to admit that we were wrong! Why is it so hard for us to admit when we make a mistake? Why is it so necessary for us to try to appear perfect, to ourselves or to others? Who do we think we are fooling? Nobody is perfect – a cursory glance at the Bible reveals that our greatest leaders all made mistakes. What was great about them is they weren’t afraid to admit their mistakes. This includes Moshe Rabbeinu, who admitted he made a mistake in halachah when Aharon and his sons were mourning the deaths of Nadav and Avihu. It includes every Sage of the Mishnah and Gemara (most of them) who ever retracted an opinion. It includes King David when confronted by Nathan the prophet. In fact, it’s only the bad leaders who find it impossible to admit they were wrong. If we cannot be on the level of our greatest leaders, we can certainly strive and move in that direction, and one way we can start is by forgiving and asking for forgiveness. If we don’t we leave toxins in the body of K’lal Yisroel that will have to be purged sooner or later, either relatively easily and voluntarily or otherwise. May Gd grant us the strength and clarity to see ourselves clearly and act, and improve, accordingly. Shabbat Shalom, Rafi Rabinoff Jan. 3, 2009/7 Tevet, 5769 Vayigash Today’s parashah, Vayigash, has an underlying theme which is carried from the previous parashah, Miketz. As the story goes, Yosef’s jealous brothers sell him to merchants, who take him to Egypt. When the brothers go back to Yaakov, they tell him that Yosef has been killed by a wild animal. Since that day, Yaakov mourns over his favorite son. Meanwhile, in Egypt, Yosef eventually becomes the chief advisor to Pharaoh. Because of a famine, many people from Canaan, like Yosef’s brothers, travel to Egypt for food. When Yosef’s brothers come before him requesting food, he recognizes them, but they do not recognize him. Yosef does not tell them who he is, until after he plays a little trick on Binyamin. After Yosef’s servants “find” his goblet in Binyamin’s bag, Yehudah pleads for Yosef to take him as a slave and not Binyamin. At this point, Yosef reveals himself to his brothers. As they weep, all the mean and bad things said and done seem to be forgotten. This in itself is amazing. Even after the brothers SOLD Yosef, he appears to forgive them. So after rejoicing at the sight of his brothers, Yosef sends for his father and the rest of his household. At first Yaakov does not believe that his favorite son is alive. Why would he believe this? His other sons told him that Yosef was dead, killed by a wild animal. But after much persuading, he brings his family up to Egypt to see his son. When father and son meet, both cry, happy to be reunited. Now a family again, Yosef finds a home for his father, brothers, and the rest of the household in Goshen. During this time, the brothers do not seem to get questioned or admonished for what they did. Nowhere in this story does Yaakov speak of the lies about his son’s death, nor does Yosef try to get his brothers to admit that they acted poorly or jealously.
Perhaps all was not forgotten, but the Torah only
speaks of the joy of getting back together. To me this means a lot. It shows
that even after everything they did to each other, they still made amends. The
Torah, by emphasizing the weeping and unifying of this family seems to be
teaching us that we should strive to do what Yaakov and Yosef and their family
did. Looking out for each other even after all of our arguments and difficulties
is more important than holding a grudge. If we do this, we will all learn to
appreciate our parents, children and siblings more than we already do. Life is
short; remember that when your family wants to hang out with you, consider it,
they love you more than you know. Madison Rinder Dec. 27, 2008/30 Kislev, 5769 Miketz It is commonly known that the reason we call ourselves by the name Yehudim (Jews) is because most of us come literally from the Kingdom of Judah, or more specifically, the tribe of Judah. Yet, there is a deeper reason why we have continued to use this term specifically when there are countless other names that our people and religion could go by. This
week's Torah portion points to this reason. In the narrative, Yosef (Joseph)
takes Shimon (Simon) hostage and demands that the brothers bring Binyamin
(Benjamin) to Egypt, as a precondition for both Shimon's release and his (Yosef's)
providing of more food for Yaakov's (Jacob's) family.
Yehudah's pledge is unusual. Normally when a debtor guarantees collateral, the
collateral comes from a party other than the debtor. Here, Yehudah takes his
obligation to a higher level. Yehudah himself is both the one who makes the
commitment as well as the guarantor. This indicates how seriously Yehudah takes
the pledge of the “arevut” he is offering. Of
course, this does not mean that Jews are not concerned for all of humankind. We
are. Every human being is created in the image of God.
In the words of our Rabbis, chaviv adam shenivrah be-tzelem Elokim. As such, we
have very deep obligations to all people. But our obligation to our fellow Jew
is unique. As we are more connected to our inner family with whom we share a
common tradition, history and destiny, so too concerning our larger family - the
people of Israel. Yet, he also taught us that when a Jew dances and experiences joy, we all dance and feel the joy. Let us hope that we can experience the unity of joy, an important element in our obligations as Yehudim, more and more in the days, months and years to come.
Shabbat Shalom, Dec. 20, 2008/23 Kislev, 5769 Vayeshev In Parshat Vayeshev, the focus of the story shifts from Jacob to Joseph. The story of Joseph is a fascinating one, and it sets the stage for the Exodus story. The story contains many valuable life lessons, and raises many questions as well. The most glaring question in my mind is why the Torah goes into such detail with story of Joseph? In Exodus, Chapter 12, Verse 2, G-d tells Moses and Aaron that “This month shall be for you the beginning of months…”. The significance of this verse is that it is considered to be the first commandment given to the entire Israelite Nation. Many commentators ask why the Torah does not begin with this commandment. The most well known response is that the book of Genesis was necessary to establish that G-d had promised the land of Canaan to the Patriarchs, and the land belonged to the Israelite Nation. As a result, no other nation could accuse the Israelites of stealing the land following the Exodus. This brings us back to the original question, why does the Torah go into so much detail regarding Joseph? Clearly, some elements of the story are needed, as the Torah needs to set the stage for the Exodus from Egypt. Yet, Joseph is not a Patriarch, nor did G-d renew the promise He made with the Patriarchs to Joseph. Furthermore, in the end, Judah would become the dominant tribe, and G-d’s promise to the Patriarchs would seem to be ultimately fulfilled by the tribe of Judah, not the tribe of Joseph. I had difficulty answering this question, yet I ultimately came up with a Zionistic answer, which I often do. In essence, Joseph lived the American dream. He was a foreigner who went to Egypt with nothing, and rose to be the second in command of Egypt. Perhaps the Torah is teaching us that while G-d may bless us both individually and as a People outside the land of Israel, we shouldn’t get too comfortable in the Diaspora. We should strive to return to the land that was promised to our Patriarchs while we are living, and not wait like Joseph, until only our bones can be buried in Israel.
Shabbat Shalom, Dec. 13, 2008/16 Kislev, 5769 Vayishlach This Torah portion considers whether Jacob (Yaacov) and Esau can integrate their worlds and resolve past disputes. The conflicts and agreements between Jacob and Esau and the nations they represent are of historical significance. Similar issues occur in our lives as we decide whether to take chances that could enhance our well being, but there is a deep apprehension about going forward into uncertain territory. There are many struggles in this portion – Jacob and Esau; and Jacob with an angel. Why are these struggles different? The first struggle between Jacob and Esau concerns Jacob’s personal survival and whether both of them can mutually establish new sets of relationships. Their past relationships were based upon hatred and trickery. The second struggle involves the continuing path of the Jewish people (Klal Yisroel), and how they will emerge in future generations. Jacob’s struggle with an angel is transformative; afterwards he is called Israel (Yisroel). At that time he is able to confront his personal fears and meet Esau. The portion suggests that apprehension about events is often a greater struggle than facing the actual event. Shabbat shalom, Steven Puro Dec. 6, 2008/9 Kislev, 5769 Vayetze By the end of this week’s Torah portion, after 20 years of trials, triumphs and tribulations in Aram at the house of his uncle/father-in-law, Laban, Jacob and his family are on the threshold of returning to Canaan, the home of his parents. After taking his departure from Laban, before crossing into this land guaranteed to his ancestors for his descendants, the Torah tells us: Genesis 32: 2,3 - Jacob went on his way, and agents (angels) of the Almighty met him. As Jacob saw them he said, ‘This is a camp (singular) of the Almighty. He called that place Machanaim (Two Camps [plural], in English). The question begs itself, if he saw one camp, what is the significance that he named the place “Two Camps”? We find a response to the question in the comments of Rashi. In paraphrase, he explains that he met up with a single camp of celestial emissaries, but he already was being accompanied by a camp of heavenly representatives, thus with the arriving camp, he now saw two camps, i.e. Machanaim – Two Camps. But what might be a reason for the need of a second camp of Divine protectors? Says Rashi, “Two camps: one for outside the land (of Israel) that accompanied him to this point, the other, for Eretz Yisrael who came to meet him.” This, of course, parallels Rashi’s insight, at the start of this week’s parasha, regarding the Almighty’s agents (angels) of Jacob’s dream, ascending prior to descending, viz. “…the protectors who escorted him in the Land, do not go outside the Land. They ascended, and protectors for outside the Land descended to accompany him.” There is still one question to be asked. What might be the significance that separate bands of God’s emissaries are needed for inside Eretz Yisrael, and for outside Eretz Yisrael? i would suggest that since the essential dangers for each are different, therefore the protections need to be different. And i am not only speaking of danger to life and limb. Recent events in Mumbai, India indicate both of us need protection from attack. In the current atmosphere of freedom and acceptance, i believe Diaspora communities need to find ways and means to prevent the “slip sliding away” of Jewish identification. And in the current atmosphere in Israel of Judaic self- assurance we need to find ways and means to act with tolerance and understanding towards fellow Jews of different religious persuasions. Shabbat shalom, Ephraim I. Zimand, Rabbi Emeritus Nov. 29, 2008/2 Kislev, 5769 Toldot
This week’s parasha, Toldot, is the
progression from Abraham to Jacob. Buying and selling of a birthright was no ordinary matter, yet here this important right was bartered away in what appears to be a shoddy manner. How could divine privilege come to a man such as Jacob who emerges from the story as somewhat less than admirable? Some commentators see Jacob striving to become the one who carries on the religious heritage of his fathers. Jewish tradition interpreted the fact that “he stayed in camp” to mean he gave himself to learning and study and through meditation came to a knowledge of God. He believed himself to be more suited for the great task than Esau and would not let his indifferent brother stand in the way. Esau was a hunter and some commentators say his chief pleasure in life was killing and eating. He despised the birthright he should have held sacred; to satisfy his appetite, he was willing to sacrifice eternity. But, although such explanations establish that Jacob was in fact more capable than Esau to carry the divine responsibility, they do not completely answer the question: Are the means Jacob used to gain his end morally justifiable? On close examination, the Torah itself makes a judgment on Jacob. It must be seen in the full context of Jacob’s life, which develops into a tragedy. Where Abraham’s life was a struggle and triumph and Isaac’s was one that was laid back, Jacob’s is a long story of trials and tragedies. What he touches often turns to ashes. Even when he succeeds, he fails. The exchange of food for birthright brings him a brother’s enmity and still does not ensure his father’s blessing. He deceives his father and in turn is deceived by Laban. He will lose his beloved wife and favorite son and he will end his life in a strange land. There is then a judgment - much will happen before he becomes Israel. His failures and successes, his sufferings and joys, as well as his strengths will foreshadow what will happen to the people who bear his name. As children of Jacob, we are the rightful heirs of the birthright. The power and privilege of this inheritance lies in its responsibilities, in its sense of duty – in its adherence to the performance of mitzvot. Shabbat Shalom,Leona Altman Nov. 22, 2008/24 Cheshvan, 5769 Chayei Sara There are several lessons I felt were of significant value in this portion:
Sarah lived 127 years, but as presented by our Rabbi, she lived 100 years – 20 years – and seven years. These periods were differentiated as her childhood, adulthood and maturity. These statements indicate not that Sarah lived 127 years, but that she enjoyed each stage of her life. She carried the qualities she learned in each stage to the next stage. She lived her life to its fullest meaning. I hope each of us will heed the lessons learned by Sarah in our own life and then each of us can say we have lived our life to the fullest. Remember: Maturity is revered! Eliezar, in his search for a Kallah for Yitzhak, was given instructions from Avraham to search not from the Canaanite area but from My Country – My Kindred. While in the service of Avraham, Eliezar learned the important qualities in a good and righteous human being. While on his search, he did not present himself as an important representative of a rich and powerful master because he wanted to determine if the person he chose has these qualities of a good and righteous human being. Therefore, when Rivkah offered him water to drink and also offered drink for his camels, it indicated that she had qualities which would make her a proper Kallah for Yitzhak. These qualities were further reinforced in the first meeting with Yitzhak when she dismounted from the camel and walked to meet Yitzhak. She was meeting him on equal terms. It is interesting to note that even though a match was agreed upon by Rivkah’s brother and mother, it was Rivkah’s decision not to wait 10 months to a year before meeting Yitzhak but to leave immediately. Eliezar did a good sales job. Shabbat shalom, Bernie Tobin with assistance from Ceil Nov. 15, 2008/17 Cheshvan, 5769 Vayera In the Parasha Vayera, we read of the incident of the Akeidah, in which God directs Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac on one of the mountains in the land of Moriah. By doing so, God puts Abraham to the ultimate test. It seems as if God wants to see if Abraham has complete faith in Him and if Abraham would sacrifice anything on His behalf. Although Abraham does not go through with the actual sacrifice, he comes close enough that he passes the test. Many interpret this passage of the Torah as a demonstration that Abraham has total faith in God. This could mean that Abraham had such strong faith that he knew all along that God would not let him kill Isaac. Or perhaps his faith was so strong that even if he were to sacrifice Isaac, there was a hidden purpose that justified the sacrifice. However, what is puzzling is that, in verse Genesis 22:12, an angel sent down from God says, “Do not stretch out your hand against the lad nor do anything to him for now I know you are a God-fearing man…” Why would God want to know if Abraham is afraid of Him? Abraham was already willing to stand up to God, which is shown by the earlier discussion between Abraham and God when Abraham tries to keep God from destroying Sodom because innocent people might have lived there. Due to the fact that Abraham does indeed put his favorite son’s life in jeopardy, it shows that Abraham not only fears God but trusts Him as well. Perhaps the Binding of Isaac shows that even one of the most inspirational figures of the Torah feared God, but in order to accomplish great things in his life, he had to put his fears aside. As John B. Putman Jr. said, “Courage is not the lack of fear but the ability to face it.” Shabbat
Shalom, Nov. 8, 2008/10 Cheshvan, 5769 Lech Lecha Many of the events in this week’s parasha involve G-d commanding Abraham (then Abram) to do things. At the start of the parasha, Abraham is to leave his home to travel to an unspecified destination; at the end, he is to circumcise himself and all the other Jewish men. Even though these were not easy things to do, Abraham’s faith in G-d was strong and he obeyed. When Abraham and Sarah (then Sarai) went to Egypt, he asked Sarah to pretend to be his sister. Some people think this meant Abraham was not sure that G-d would protect him from being killed because he was Sarah’s husband. Others think it might have been a scheme to engineer one of a number of wealth transfers from the Egyptians. But, there is little doubt that Abraham had trouble believing G-d’s prediction that he and Sarah would soon have a son. His skeptical laugh gave Isaac his Hebrew name. Abraham, our first patriarch, who had done and would do so many difficult things in the service of G-d, had a moment of doubt, but his faith in G-d stayed strong. We are much less holy than Abraham and our doubts and failures much larger, but we can follow Abraham’s example and not let them diminish our faith in G-d. Shabbat Shalom, Sid Levin Nov. 1, 2008/3 Cheshvan, 5769 Noach Today’s Torah portion is Noach. The first thing that stood out to me, believe it or not, was the first sentence: “… Noah was a righteous man, perfect in his generations.” Righteous means having good morals, listening to Hashem, and doing the right thing. I immediately wondered why the phrase “in his generations” was used. How is your righteousness connected to your generation? In the commentary, one of the main explanations was that he was a good man despite being surrounded by a horrid culture. He would have been better if he lived in a better time. Another explanation was that he was only good compared to the other people of his time. This further says that the goodness of a person is measured in comparison to his/her peers. To me, neither explanation seemed quite right. I thought it might mean that Noah had morals that were good (and he listened to Hashem and did good deeds…), but in comparison to his generation they were perfect. Later in the portion Hashem says to Noah “…for it is you that I have seen to be righteous before Me in this generation.” Again I was faced with the emphasis on the generation. I read the rest of the portion again and thought about a different man in a different time. Abraham, when faced with a situation much like Noah’s, pleaded with Hashem for the lives of the people rather than just listening to him as Noah did. I think Abraham’s behavior was better. Still, I don’t think Noah would have been considered an ordinary, insignificant man in any generation. Even if Noah lived in a better time, I think he would be considered a righteous man. Without any expectation of being rewarded, he lived a life full of good deeds, where he also listened to Hashem. He did not give in to his surroundings. I also don’t believe that morality depends upon circumstances. It is always important to do the right thing, to be righteous, especially in the worst of times, even if you will get no reward. Luckily for Noah, as for us all, the reward for his righteousness was life. Shabbat shalom, Thomas Hack October, 25, 2008/19 Tishrei, 5769 Bereshit In the beginning… The first 5 Books of the Bible comprise the Torah. Moses received the Torah on Mount Sinai in the year 2448 after creation. The Torah contains 613 commandments divided into 248 positive commandments – “Thou shalt” –, paralleling the 248 limbs and organs in the human body, and 365 negative commandments – “Thou shalt not” – , paralleling the 365 major blood vessels and tendons. The first positive commandment is contained in Genesis and is addressed to Adam and Eve: “Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and master it." The Torah is written in a very concise manner, and much of it is difficult to understand without resorting to the Oral Torah (compiled to become the Mishnah in the year 3949 after creation, and 120 years after the destruction of the Second Temple). In Hebrew, the first 5 books of the Bible are also called Chumash, from the number in Hebrew Chamesh (5). Each book in the Torah is named in Hebrew after its first or second word, while in English, names summarize the content of the book. The first book of the Torah is called in Hebrew Bereishit that means “In the beginning." Bereishit, or Genesis, tells, in its first 11 chapters, the story of the creation of the world. Genesis's goal is not to give a textbook lesson in science, but to affirm that nature was created by God. The Book of Genesis also includes narratives related to Noah and the flood, the Tower of Babel, the story of the Patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and finishes with the death of Joseph. Each week in Synagogue we chant a passage from the Torah that is referred to as a Parashah. The first Parashah is Parashat Bereishit. The weekly Parashah is followed by a passage from the Prophets, which is referred to as a Haftarah. The word comes from a Hebrew root meaning “end or conclusion." The Bible has been, according to many, the most influential book in human history. Several of its central ideas – One God, one universal standard of morality, care for the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger, and a holy day to refrain from work - have transformed humankind. Despite its importance, few people today read the Bible. It is never too late to start! Shabbat shalom, Mauricio, Marcia, Paul, Claire, Karyn Lisker October 18, 2008/12 Tishrei, 5769 A Thought for Succot Synagogues have been packed. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are the busiest times for synagogues everywhere. In stark contrast, just five days after Yom Kippur, when Succot, the Holiday of Booths arrives, many synagogues will be far less crowded. But the truth is, Succot is more reflective of the genuine Jewish spirit than is Yom Kippur.
In his Ish Ha-Halakha, Halakhic Man, Rabbi Yosef Dov
Soloveitchik distinguishes between the universal religious person and the Jewish
religious person. Universal religious person perceives the body and soul to be
in conflict. For this individual, the pathway to spiritual bliss is the
rejection of the body, the limiting of the physical, the escaping from these
worldly pleasures. This is the philosophy of fundamental Christianity, of the
Eastern religions. Theirs is a world of asceticism, of self-denial. Rabbi Avi Weiss October 4, 2008/5 Tishrei, 5769 Vayalech In this week's portion, God declares that the time will come when He will hide his face from the Jewish people. In the words of the Torah, "and I will certainly conceal my face on that day, (haster astir)." (Deuteronomy 31:18) What does this term mean? After the Shoah, some suggested that the murder of six million Jews proves that God is dead (sic). Martin Buber, the 20th century philosopher insisted that the Shoah does not speak of the demise of God but of the eclipse of God. With death comes finality. Eclipse on the other hand, like the eclipse of the sun, means that for a moment God may not be seen, but in the end He would be visible. In reality, Buber was echoing a very traditional approach to haster astir. Consider the sweep of Jewish history. No doubt, there have been difficult moments, but when these moments are seen as part of a larger whole, these dark times are complemented by a far larger, more glorious history. Hence our calendar is counted by the moon. The Zohar insists that the moon reflects the very essence of the Jewish people. It wanes, diminishes and vanishes. To the one who views the moon for the first time, it would appear as if all is lost. But the power of the moon is that it reemerges, it resurfaces. Much like the Jewish people. Over and over, we've experienced low points only to extricate ourselves and rise up from the ashes. What's true about our national existence is equally true in our personal lives. Setbacks can be devastating and life effecting, but it is still important to never lose hope, or become overly pessimistic. Rather we should be alive and await renewal. No wonder at the moment of greatest pain, the death of someone close, even as we rend our garments, we recite the blessing barukh dayan emet, blessed is the truthful and loving judge. Even then, we step back and as we cry out in pain, we remember the better times, the good times that God gave us. The reverse is also true. At our moments of greatest celebration, at a wedding itself, we break the glass to remind ourselves that life has its highs but built into those great moments are the inevitable experiences of breakage, of pain. As a young rabbi, I heard a wonderful tale of a young girl who had an amazingly deep faith. She told her friend that although her doll's hand was broken, she would pray to God, and God would hear her prayers. Her skeptic friend reacted with disbelief. God doesn't answer such prayers. That night, before going to sleep, the believing girl offered deep prayers to God. Upon rising the next morning, she eagerly reached for her doll, only to find its hand still broken. "I told you" her skeptic friend said, "God wouldn't listen to your prayers." "No, said the believing girl, "God did listen, but his answer was no."
And so it is in
life. Often, reflective of haster astir, God says no. May we, however,
take note of the abundance of yeses in our lives and merit more in the future.
A reflective thought especially as Rosh Hashanah nears, the only holiday
celebrated on the beginning of the month, as the moon appears as but a sliver of
light. And no wonder Rosh Hashanah is called Yom ha-Keseh, the holiday of
concealment. This reminds us that even if God doesn’t seem to be present, like
the moon, his presence will one day be felt in its fullness.
Shabbat Shalom,
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