Tears

Mikketz

Gen. 41:1-44:17

Précis: At the end (mikketz) of two years of Joseph’s imprisonment, Pharaoh dreams of cows and ears of corn. The butler who had shared Joseph’s cell now remembers him and calls him from prison. Joseph predicts seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine. Pharaoh is so impressed that he appoints Joseph as his chief vizier and Joseph goes about storing grain during the times of plenty.

            Joseph marries Asenath and they have two sons, Ephraim and Manasseh. When the famine comes, Jacob sends his sons to Egypt to purchase food. Joseph has them brought in while he remains in cognito. Joseph accuses the brothers of spying, and sends them home after they leave one brother hostage and promise to return with their youngest brother, Benjamin. Upon their return, the brothers (including Benjamin) meet the still-unrevealed Joseph. Joseph has their bags filled not only with grain but also with the money used to purchase the grain and has a gold cup hidden in Benjamin’s belongings. When they are “caught” by Joseph’s men, they learn that whoever stole the cup would become Joseph’s slave, while the others return to their homeland. On this cliffhanger, the parasha ends.

Gen. 42:23-24 “They did not know that Joseph understood, for there was an interpreter between him and them. He turned away from them and wept.”

            Tears are a leitmotif in this week’s parasha. Joseph, disguised from his brothers, fights back his tears when he first meets them asking for food. He recognizes them at once, and speaks harshly towards them, “acting like a stranger” (Gen. 42:7). The brothers talk among themselves, unaware that Joseph understands their language. When he hears them lament the way they had treated him, he turns away and weeps.

When the brothers return with his full brother Benjamin, Joseph “was overcome with feeling toward his brother and was on the verge of tears; he went into a room and wept there” (Gen. 43:30). Did he weep because he did not want his brothers to recognize him, or because it was unseemly for a man in his position of power to display emption?

            By his tears, I suggest Joseph was lamenting his own troubled past, the depths of the gulf between himself and Benjamin, and the rage he was now overcoming with respect to his other brothers. After his tears, he reemerges and serves a meal, his emotions again under control.

The final denouement of course happens in next week’s reading, when he reveals himself to his brothers and sobs and cries (Gen.45:14-15). Reconciliation takes place with tears of joy. It is certainly possible that Joseph's tears represent his emotional growth. He has learned to overcome rage against his brothers and to form a renewed relationship with them.

Tears can result from rage and anger. Tears can result from mere sadness. And tears can result from the joy of reunion and the promise of better days to come.

This week, we celebrate the joyous holiday of Chanukah. If tears are to be shed, may they be joyous and hopeful.

But He Refused

Vayeshev

Gen. 37:1 - 40:23

Précis: The story of Joseph begins with the words, “And Jacob dwelt (vayeshev) in the land of his father’s travels.” We learn that Joseph is Jacob’s favorite son. Joseph receives the famous coat of many colors, and dreams strange dreams and relates them to his brothers and father, creating additional concern (jealousy) on their part. The sons conspire to do away with Joseph, but before he dies, they sell him into slavery. Jacob is devastated when the sons present evidence of Joseph’s “death.” 

            We then have an intervening story about Judah. He marries off his first son to Tamar. The son soon dies, and, the next son is married to the widow (“levirate marriage.”) The second son (Onan) dies, and Judah is loath to offer the third son. The widow dresses as a harlot, seduces Judah, becomes pregnant, and reveals herself to Judah as a woman wronged. He acknowledges her as a rightful daughter.

           The scene shifts back to Joseph, who is now a servant in the household of Potiphar, an Egyptian official. Potiphar’s wife attempts to seduce Joseph but he refuses her advances. She accuses him nonetheless of attempted rape, and Joseph is tossed into prison. There, he meets jailed servants of Pharaoh, for whom he interprets dreams successfully. When the chief butler is restored to his post, he promises to “remember” Joseph, but the parasha ends with the words, “but he forgot him.”

Gen. 39:7-8 “After a time, his master’s wife cast her eyes upon Joseph and said, ‘Lie with me.’ But he refused….”

            This parasha includes two stories of sexual impropriety: the failure of Judah to provide for his daughter-in-law (and her need to play the harlot), and this story of the false rape accusation in the cited verse.

            When Joseph refuses the advances of Potiphar’s wife, she grabs an article of his clothing, which she uses as “evidence” of rape, and Joseph goes to prison.

            While in terms of power the gender roles​ in this story​ are reversed from our present 

​“norm,” this episode has remarkable parallels to the current news cycle in particular, and to our society in general.

            A person of power coerces another towards improper sexual contact. Here, the individual refuses, and is punished for that refusal. Joseph not only loses his job, he goes to prison! What would his fellow servants of Potiphar think about that result? Would they decide to accept the abuse to save their jobs, or would they speak out and defend themselves?

            This is the issue which our society is attempting to deal with today. Sexual abuse and harassment have been present throughout human history as this story demonstrates. There is also no doubt that it has been wrong throughout human history as well. Joseph, who is not always portrayed in a positive light (his tattling on his brothers, his braggadocio, his games-playing with his brothers when he is in power, his failure to contact his mourning father, etc.) here stands up straight and strong, refusing the improper advances of his mistress. It is not only wrong for him to do what is demanded of him; it is also a violation of the trust which is owner Potiphar has placed in him. It must have been exceedingly difficult for Joseph to take this stand (a notion which the Rabbis suggest was not initially unequivocal).

            What we need to learn from this vignette is not only that those who are harassed and abused must come forward, but that the perpetrators must learn to avoid their sin. In more common terms, it is not harassed (mostly) women in our society who need to come forward; it is (largely) men in positions of authority (as employers, as teachers, as political leaders) who must learn that the authority they possess gives them no entitlement to harass or abuse those under their sway. We, as a society, must give no quarter to those who use their positions in such despicable ways.

Burning Bridges

Vayishlach

Gen. 32:4 - 36:43

Précis: As he nears his return to his homeland, Jacob sent (vayishlach) messengers to Esau to ascertain Esau’s state of mind after their 20-year separation. While he awaits a reply, Jacob encounters an “adversary” (most assume an angel) with whom Jacob wrestles through the night. As dawn breaks, the adversary announces that Jacob’s name is to be changed to Israel: “He who wrestles with God.” On the following day, Esau approaches, and despite Jacob’s fears, there is a happy reunion.

            We then read the story of how a local prince rapes Dinah, Jacob’s daughter, and then asks to marry her. Jacob agrees on condition that all of the men of the city are circumcised. While the men are recovering, Jacob’s sons Simon and Levi attack the city and kill all of the inhabitants in revenge for the insult to their sister.

           Jacob soon travels to Beth-el (the site of his ladder dream), and on the way, Rachel gives birth to Benjamin and dies in childbirth. Thereafter, Isaac’s death is noted, as is his burial by Esau and Jacob. The parasha ends with a genealogy of Esau and his descendants.

Gen. 33:4 “And Esau ran to meet Jacob, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him; and they wept.”

            After two decades of separation, the twin brothers meet again and are reconciled. The closeness of their relationship is questionable. While the Sages provide extended midrash seeking to cast doubt on Esau's sincerity, the text itself portrays a legitimate and sincere reunion. Yet, they need to live apart. Two people who tricked and threatened each other have finally come to accept the other. What has changed?  

            We recall that as young men, they competed with each other for the love of their parents, and each was successful in earning the love from only one of them. Jacob desired Esau’s birthright, Esau wanted the porridge and then wanted the blessing from Isaac. They each wanted what the other possessed.

            When they meet again, they have overcome their jealousy. They both have large families and great wealth. Jacob offers his brother gifts, and Esau refuses.  Jacob insists on the gift.  Each of the two now understands that they no longer need envy the other.

            As we see so often in our text, relationships among family members can be difficult. But as a wise woman (my wife) has repeatedly reminded me, “Never burn your bridges.” There is always hope for reconciliation. Another lesson: while we all strive for goals, we need to remember that life is not a zero-sum game. We also need to remember how blessed we already are, and that we should rejoice in our own achievements instead of being envious of the success of others.  

We cannot stand idly by

Vayetze

Gen. 28:10-33:3

Précis: As Jacob travels towards the household of his uncle Laban, he dreams of a ladder (some translate it as a ramp) to heaven, with angels ascending and descending. He vows to build a great House for God on the spot. Jacob meets and falls in love with Laban’s younger daughter, Rachel. Laban agrees to the match, provided that Jacob works for him for seven years. Laban switches the older daughter, Leah, for Rachel; Jacob works an additional seven years for Rachel’s hand. Jacob then works for Laban another six years, and acquires great wealth and flocks through shrewd husbandry. During the stay with Laban, most of the children of Jacob are born. At the conclusion of the parasha, after tense negotiations with Laban, Jacob leaves with his possessions and family.

Gen. 29:7 “And he [Jacob] said [to the shepherds at the well], ‘Lo, it is yet high day, and it is not time to round up the cattle; water the sheep, and then go feed them.’”

            It seems that once again I need to make reference to this verse due to the news of the day, as I have done before with regard to other then-current developments. The Sforno, the 16th century Italian commentator, states that in this story, Jacob, a stranger, chastises the workers for quitting early, thereby depriving their employers of a full day’s work for a full day’s pay. From this, the Sforno draws an ethical mandate: a righteous man objects to a wrong he observes, even if the wrong is done to others. Thus, one can’t stand idly by when a wrong is being done to another because one is not personally affected.

            The current spate of reports about sexual harassment and assault seems to be part of a hopeful paradigm shift in how these allegations are regarded. As Senator McConnell said, “I believe these women.” This marks a 180 degree turn in what we have come to expect from public figures, be they politicians, actors, corporate leaders or business bosses.

            This change is necessitated by the incredible pressure the harassed (usually but not always women) are under. To report or to complain or to sue invites retribution, both personal (loss of job) and public (ranging from shame and embarrassment to threats of violence). As suggested by the Sforno, we have an ethical mandate to act. We should not permit acts of harassment to take place in front of us without comment. We should support those who have endured harassment. And most importantly, we need to hold the harassers to account, regardless of political party and regardless of the positions they hold, from the least to the highest.

Who is powerful?

Toldot

Gen. 25:19-28:9

Précis: The introductory phrase to this parasha is “These are the generations (“toldot”) of Isaac.” What follows is the birth of the twins, Esau and Jacob. Their childhood is omitted from narrative. We learn that Jacob is a quiet man while Esau is a cunning hunter; that their mother Rebecca prefers Jacob, and that Isaac prefers Esau. Esau sells his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of porridge (or lentils). A famine takes place, and Isaac visits the Philistines where he claims that his wife Rebecca is actually his sister (as Abraham did with Sarah in Lech Lecha) and again, the woman escapes unharmed. The story turns to the “great deception” where Jacob pretends to be Esau in order to obtain the primary blessing from his father Isaac. Esau hates Jacob and threatens him; Rebecca urges Jacob to escape to her family in Haran, to where he sets off at the conclusion of the parasha. 

Gen. 25:25 “The first to come out was red, and his whole body was like a hairy garment; so, they named him Esau.”

             As noted by Rabbi Bradley Ashton (MyJewishLearning.com, 11/18/14), Esau is a simple man who relies on his strength and robust nature. He is a hunter, driven by his own courage and power who gives free reign to his impulses and desires. He is distinctly non-intellectual (particularly when compared to his brother).

            These days, many Americans distrust intellectuals. They think too much. They are too sensitive. They are too calculating. They cannot be trusted. In other words, they are like Jacob. Americans seem to look for someone who, like Esau, can impose his will on others. Americans seem to prefer what Artson calls a “romantic notion” that the best expression of who we are is found in the uncensored and unbridled release of feelings.

            However, Jewish text and tradition are to the contrary. Restraint is a hallmark, joined by thoughtful direction. These are Jacob’s attributes, which are displayed in this week’s reading with the rash and impulsive sale by Esau of his birthright to Jacob. Jacob lives with an eye out for the future, willingly forgoing a meal in exchange for inheritance. Jacob lives by weighing the consequences, calculating the impact of his actions.

            What makes this story striking is how well we understand Esau’s actions and motives. Our American culture stresses the importance of acting on our feelings, and not to repress our emotions. Don’t keep things bottled up. Share your thoughts and concerns. Live in the moment. I submit that this is an important element of American culture.

            But the Mishnah reminds us, “Who is powerful? One who conquers his own impulse.” Jacob’s restraint is at odds with current mainstream American values, but restraint is the very trait which can lift us as individuals and as a nation - out of the moment - and make a different future possible.

Successfully Aging

Chayye Sarah

Gen. 23:1-25:18

Précis: The parasha begins with the counting the days of the life of Sarah (chayye Sarah) and with her death. It continues with a detailed description of the purchase of the cave of Machpela by Abraham for a family burial site. Abraham orders his servant to go to Abraham’s ancestral home to obtain a wife for Isaac, and after a series of fulfilled signs, the servant finds Rebecca. Rebecca returns with the servant; she and Isaac meet, fall in love at first sight, and become man and wife. The parasha ends with the death of Abraham, and his burial by Isaac and Ishmael in the family plot.

Gen. 25:28-9 “Abraham breathed his last, dying at a ripe age, old and content; he was gathered to his kin. His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpela…”

             Erica Brown has written (Weekly Jewish Wisdom, 11/13/14) about the theme of mortality in this week’s reading. Sarah dies at the beginning, and Abraham dies at the end. She notes that the text often includes Abraham’s age at different junctures of his life (when he leaves for Canaan, when Ishmael is born, when Isaac is born, and at his death here at 175). This must have some significance.

            Abraham, she suggests, is a model of aging spiritually, with great faith in the future, putting into place a plan of succession for his ideals. One Midrash suggests that the Hebrew word used to describe Abraham as “old” (zakein) is an acronym for zeh kanah kokhman: this one has acquired wisdom, and it suggests that Abraham was the first person in history to grow wiser as he grew older (Gen. Rabbah 59:6).

            Abraham shows us the ability to age successfully; it is incumbent on all of us to continue to live our lives to the fullest, and not retreat. We might not start new families at an age passed 100 like Abraham, but we can be open to new ideas and new experiences for as long as we live. By living in the world, by remaining engaged, we offer others the opportunity to gain from our experience and abilities. 

A Story We Never Really Understand

Vayera

Gen. 18:1-22:24         

Précis: God “appeared” (vayera) to Abraham in the form of three travelers to whom Abraham shows hospitality. They promise the birth of Isaac, overheard by Sarah (who laughs). God reveals His plans for the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and Abraham argues for its salvation for the sake of any innocents who might dwell there. The scene shifts to Sodom where Lot lives, and he and his family are rescued first from an unruly mob and then from the destruction of the city itself. Lot’s wife glances back and turns into the pillar of salt. His daughters, fearing that they are the last females alive, make Lot drunk and engage in sexual relations with him, later giving birth to founders of the tribes of Moab and Ammon (traditional adversaries of the Israelites).

Back with Abraham, Sarah conceives and gives birth to Isaac. She becomes unhappy with the continued presence of Ishmael and prevails upon Abraham to expel Ishmael and Hagar from the household, which he does (after being promised by God that Ishmael, too, will be the father of a great nation). Thereafter, the story continues with the attempted sacrifice of Isaac by Abraham, called “the Akedah” (the Binding of Isaac).

Gen. 22 1-12 “Sometime later God tested Abraham. He said to him, ‘Abraham!’ ‘Here I am,’ he replied. Then God said, ‘Take your son, your only son, whom you love—Isaac—and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you’…. He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then he reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son. But the angel of the Lord called out to him from heaven... ‘Do not lay a hand on the boy,’ he said. ‘Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God....’”

The Akedah, or "Binding of Isaac", is a unique episode in our Biblical text, and it remains unconnected (and unreferenced) elsewhere in the Bible. There is little rabbinic commentary in the Mishnaic period (other than to be cited as a proof-text against human sacrifice), but in the Talmudic period, this story seems to have kindled the imagination of the scholars. Some suggest that the story is a prime example of the concept of Jewish martyrdom (Kiddush Ha-Shem). Others Sages saw this an example of God’s mercy (and included it as the reading for Rosh Hashanah on that basis).

            Many have found the entire story deeply puzzling, if not outright challenging on a theological level. Why does Isaac fail to return with his father? Some suggest (as reported by Ibn Ezra) that Isaac was actually slain, failed to go with his father back home, but was subsequently resurrected from the dead. Ibn Ezra himself, however, rejects this opinion as contrary to the text. Other medieval scholars supported this view, perhaps to show that Jesus’ resurrection was not unique.

            Yet other commentators question what God intended in the story: did He intend that Isaac be sacrificed? Why did He need to “test” Abraham? Didn’t God know what would happen? According to Maimonides (Guide for the Perplexed, 3. 24) the words “God tested Abraham” means that He made the example of Abraham to serve as a lesson to others. Nachmanides insists that God knew what the outcome would be, but from Abraham's perspective, the “test” was real. This raises, of course, the entire issue of the concept of free will vs. God’s omniscience.

            In all probability, we’ll return to a detailed examination of the Akedah next Rosh Hashanah. Meantime, we can all express our own wonder at how this story has been examined, reexamined, and expounded upon, but yet never seems to be fully resolved. Sort of like life I guess.

A Biblical Promise to Us?

Lech Lecha

Gen. 12:1 -17:27

Précis: This parasha, “get you up” or “go yourself” (lech lecha) begins with “the call” of Abram to leave his home and depart for a new land. At God’s command, Abram and Sarai journey to Canaan. When famine strikes, they travel to Egypt, where Sarai is taken into Pharaoh’s harem after Abram calls her his “sister,” but she escapes without harm. They then leave Egypt, with Abram now a rich man. To avoid family squabbles, Abram separates himself from his nephew Lot (who moves to Sodom), but Abram is forced to rescue Lot and reach a negotiated settlement with the locals. God promises him an heir. Because Sarai is barren, she offers Abram her servant (Hagar), and Hagar gives birth to a son, Ishmael. Abram is then promised a son through Sarai, to be his true heir. Abram’s name is changed to Abraham, and Sarai’s to Sarah, in recognition of the new Covenant with God, which is then symbolized by Abraham’s circumcision.

Gen. 12:6-7 “Abram passed through the land as far as the site of Shechem, at the terebinths of Moreh. The Canaanites were in the land. The Lord appeared to Abram and said, ‘I will give this land to your offspring.’”

             We read this week of the appearance of Abram (to be renamed Abraham), the Biblical progenitor of the Jewish People. We also observe in this parasha, in the verse cited above, God’s promise that Abram and his descendants would inherit the Land.

            Literalists will suggest that this provides a Biblical basis and justification for the modern State of Israel, a realization of God’s promise to the Jewish People. Indeed, parts of the Zionist Movement (particularly the Religious Zionists who believed that their assistance in the creation of a Jewish State would hasten the arrival of the Messiah), have made exactly that claim. Zionists of almost all stripes take note of the devotion to the Land by the Jewish People and its prayer for a new state during the centuries of the Exile.

            As noted by Hillel Ben Sasson (JTS, 11/11/16), one is tempted to adopt such an understanding, given the apparently miraculous re-establishment of a Jewish State 1,800 years after its destruction. But adopting such a view, he argues, while tempting, is also dangerous. It is dangerous in part because it can be a source of hubris which can cause forgetfulness: Israel came into being not only through the valiant Zionists who “built up” the Land, but also through the United Nations, which recognized the right of Israel to exist as a free and independent member of the family of nations.

            We can nevertheless connect the modern State with its Biblical predecessor on another level, and that is to be found in Abram’s life. As a newly arrived immigrant to Canaan, he travels as a nomad (and not as a landlord). He takes care to avoid quarrels with his new neighbors. Abram obtains land through purchase only after generous dealings with the local inhabitants. He demonstrates through his own actions (in his quarrel with God over the fate of Sodom) that he is a man of justice. Sasson argues that God’s promise of the Land as an inheritance was conditional: Abram was required to demonstrate a high moral character.

            When we read God’s promise of the Land to Abram and his successors as conditional, we should recognize that the modern State of Israel is also bound by the character traits of its founder, or as Sasson suggests, “independence, sovereignty, and power are a political and moral test, not a possession inherently belonging to the Jewish people.” We, the Jewish People of the galut, are tied to the Land of Israel, and are obligated to help Israel succeed in this test of character.

Can We Just Talk?

Noach

Gen. 6:9-11:32

Précis: The story of Noah (Hebrew: Noach) and the Flood appear in this parasha. Noah, called by God, builds the Ark and collects the animals. It rains for forty days and nights. Noah and his family are saved, and afterward leave the Ark, build an altar, and make sacrifices to God. God sets a rainbow as a promise not to destroy mankind again. Noah plants a vineyard, makes wine, and becomes drunk. An odd incident with sexual overtones takes place with his sons. The story of the Tower of Babel is included in this parasha, and it ends with a genealogy of the ancient peoples of the Bible, concluding with Abram.

Gen. 11:1-9 “All the earth had the same language…and as man migrated from the east they settled in the valley… and they said, ‘let us make bricks….and let us build a city and a tower with its top in the sky, and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered all over the earth.’ Adonai came down and said, ‘If, as one people with single voice this is how they have begun to act, then nothing will be out of their reach. Let us go down and confound their speech.’ Thus, Adonai scattered them across the face of the earth.”

            Our text does not provide a clear rationale for the scattering of the people nor for the loss of a common language. The Sages have proposed a host of explanations for Adonai’s actions: that humanity was wrong to challenge the supremacy of God, that they were presumptuously building a tower to prevent a repeat of the Flood, or that God punished them for failing to understand the reasons for the Flood.

            While the text is ambiguous as to cause, the result is clear and specific: the people’s “speech is impeded.” They lost the ability to communicate with each other and began to speak in their own individual languages, and were spread all over the globe.

            I don’t think that it a great leap from this text to the current status of American politics. It seems we have developed narrower and narrower groups who “speak the same language,” and that we have lost the ability to communicate with each other. People on both ends of the spectrum scratch their heads and say “How can they possibly believe that?” We no longer seem to be able to accept common facts, let alone disparate opinions.

            The destruction of the tower and the confounding of speech meant, for that time and place, the end of civilization. A new civilization would be needed, and 10 generations later, its progenitor, Abram, was born. In our time, the loss of the ability to communicate poses a real threat to our American civilization, which can be averted only by a restoration of civility and mutual communication. May it come in our time, and may it come in time.

Shabbat Fences

Bereshit

Gen. 1:1 - 6:8

Précis: The first Book of the Torah, Bereshit (Genesis, literally “in the beginning” or “When God began to create”) begins with the familiar story of creation. The world is created in six days and God rests on the seventh. The stories of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden are included, as is the story of Cain and Abel.

            We begin the annual reading of the Five Books of Moses immediately upon its conclusion. Why? Perhaps it is because with each passing year, our experiences allow us to understand more of what life has to offer, and what the text has to offer. Yochanan Ben Bag Bag said (Pirke Avot 5:25), "Turn it, and turn it, for everything is in it. Reflect on it and grow old and gray with it. Don't turn from it, for you have no better standard of conduct."

Gen. 2:3 “And God blessed the seventh day, and hallowed it; because that in it He rested from all His work which God in creating had made.”

                Rabbi Bernard M. Zlotowitz has studied the historical roots of Shabbat (10 Minutes of Torah 10/16/12). While our text tells us that Shabbat was created by God, he notes that some scholars attribute the origin of the concept to Babylonia, where the 7^th, 14^th, 21^st and 28^th days of each month were considered “evil” and that priestly activities were suspended on those days. They called those days “Sabattu.” Other historians contend that the institution was borrowed from Canaanites, who had an agricultural calendar based on a seven-day period. They, however, considered the 7^th day as unlucky. 

            Our ancestors, however, transformed the negative stereotype of misfortunate bad luck into a day of joy, celebration, and sacredness.

            The observances and restrictions associated with post-Temple Shabbat ritual were specified (or enumerated, depending upon one’s personal point of view) in the early Talmudic period (roughly the 3^rd-5^th centuries of the Common Era). The rabbis identified 39 types of labor performed during the construction of the Tabernacle which were, according to the text, suspended on Shabbat. To these they added additional “fences” to avoid the potential of unintentional violation of one of the enumerated forms of labor, or even of the appearance of a violation. [My personal favorite “fence” involves the prohibition against opening an umbrella on Shabbat because it resembles erecting a shelter, a prohibited form of work. However, the “fence” insists one cannot carry an umbrella one has opened before Shabbat (even within city walls, or within an eruv) because it gives the appearance of a forbidden form of labor.]

These laws, Rabbi Zlotowitz, suggests, form a “blueprint” for Shabbat observance. “The Talmud provides guidance concerning travel, work, lighting candles, eating, praying, caring for the sick, sexual relations, childbirth, circumcision, and virtually every other aspect of human endeavor that might occur on the Sabbath.” I would add that over the centuries, customs have varied widely from place to place, and have often assumed the stature of “law” in common practice. One must also, I maintain, decide what customs and laws are applicable to your own life. Should we feel comfortable to carry an open an umbrella inside the eruv? You tell me!

Chag Sameach and Shabbat Shalom in the Sukkah

I sometimes wonder who had the idea of cramming so many holidays together in the Jewish calendar. We are hardly finished with Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur before we start getting ready for Sukkot. (It is a custom by some to start erecting the sukkah immediately at the conclusion of Yom Kippur.)

            But it also seems to me that we can look forward to this next holiday 

​another way. W

e read in the daily prayer book

​ and 

praise God for watching over us with the phrase “hapores sukkat shalom aleinu” (whose shelter of peace is spread over us). This is a remarkably beautiful concept – God is sheltering us as we sit in a flimsy sukkah (shelter). We don’t ask God for a strong, hurricane-proof shelter, but just a flimsy shelter through which the ra

​i​

n can (and often does) fall.

            As Rabbi Neal Katz has noted (Reform Voices of Torah, 10/16/16) we use the metaphor of a sukkah in this daily prayer precisely because we know how fragile peace can be. If we want a more permanent and enduring kind of peace, it is up to us to make it happen. In doing this, we become God’s partner in a most noble effort.

            This Sukkot, when peace and security does not exist for millions, through natural disaster or war, or through racial bias and hatred, 

​through mindless gun violence ​

or even from a lack of civility, perhaps as we sit in our fragile Sukkah and give thanks to God for seeing us through to this joyous occasion, we can remember that it is part of the Jewish Mission statement to help bring peace to all.

            Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach.

Here I am

On Rosh Hashanah and on Yom Kippur, the Hazzan chants a special prayer immediately before the repetition of the Amidah in the Musaf service, called “Hineni” in which the Hazzan leader begs God to accept the leader’s role as spokesperson for the community, the shaliach tzibur, even though the prayer acknowledges the speaker as unworthy. It some congregations, the Hazzan begins this chant from the rear of the sanctuary, walking slowly down the aisle towards the bimah, often in a very still, quiet voice. The prayer begins:

            “Here I stand, impoverished in merit, trembling in Your Presence, pleading on behalf of Your People Israel even though I am unfit and unworthy for the task.”

            The word itself, “Hineni” is one with powerful echoes in the Bible. When God calls to Adam, he responds “Hineni.” When God calls to Abraham, he, too, responds “Hineni.” When God calls to Moses, he responds “Hineni” as well. It is more than “I am here.” It connotes “I am prepared to follow Your will.”

            When God calls us to do important and difficult tasks on behalf of the community or the Jewish people, the answer must be “Hineni.” Here I am, here I stand, even though I may lack merit to represent anyone beyond myself. Even when we merely assume the role of an active member of the Jewish community, we again state “Here I am, Hineni.”

            In either case, however, we are obligated to must retain the humility expressed in the Hineni prayer, and remember our own limitations.

            And yet. Yom Kippur means many things to many people, with its overt emphasis on fasting and recounting one’s sins. Will we live or die? Will we prosper or face challenges? I choose, however, to focus this year on “Hineni” and pledge to “be here” for those facing crises so much greater than my own: to the orphan, the widow, the stranger, the aging neighbor, the victim of natural disaster, of political retribution, of prejudice and injustice. For them, as well as for ourselves, we say “Hineni.”

Shanah Tovah

             The central concept of the season is t’shuvah, which we usually translate as “repentance,” although the Hebrew word’s origin is closer to “turning.”  There are many different motives to encourage repentance. We might be motivated by regret, by a sense of inadequacy, or by loss. We can also be motivated by fear, as this clever story illustrates (as told by Rabbi Marc Israel, while he served at Ohr Kodesh Congregation):

            A woman received a parrot as a gift. The parrot was fully grown and quite beautiful but it had a very bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every other word was a curse word; those that weren't profane were, to say the least, rude.

            The woman tried to change the bird's attitude by constantly saying polite words and playing soft music, anything she could think of. Nothing worked. She yelled at the bird and the bird got worse. She shook the bird and the bird became even madder and ruder. Finally, in a moment of desperation, the woman put the parrot in the freezer to get a minute of peace. For a few moments, she heard the bird swearing, squawking, kicking and screaming. Then, suddenly, there was absolute quiet. Frightened that she might have actually hurt the bird, the woman quickly opened the freezer door.

            The parrot calmly stepped out onto the woman’s extended arm. Perfectly calm, the parrot said, "I am very sorry that I offended you with my language and my actions and I ask your forgiveness. I will endeavor to correct my behavior, and I am sure it will never happen again."

            The woman was astounded at the changes in the bird's attitude and was about to ask what brought about the sudden change of heart when the parrot continued, "May I ask what the chicken did?"

            (Please pause and groan or laugh here.)

            Because of t’shuvah, Rosh Hashanah is the holiday which offers us the possibility of hope: hope that we can overcome our fears and weaknesses, hope that the coming year will be better. We seek the potential of closeness with others, with God, and peace within ourselves. While the Jewish calendar has several other “new years” (for trees, tithing, Passover) Rosh Hashanah is the most universal in outlook, celebrating the creation of the world. As the world itself is in effect re-created, we are offered the opportunity to look deep within ourselves and go about the task of re-creating what is missing in our lives. While we strive to repair the world (tikkun olam) we also strive to repair our inner world. There is despair at our failings, but there is also hope. Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Psiscke is quoted as suggesting: "Keep two truths in your pocket: the world was created for my sake and I am but dust and ashes.”

            On the one hand, we are crowns of creation; on the other, we are worthless. This dissonance is the essential core of the Days of Awe we now commence. It also symbolizes that we always have another chance to do better and to live better. May the coming New Year be one of re-creation, of life, sustenance, and happiness to all. 

Standing with the Stranger

Nitzavim - Va Yelech

Deut. 29:9 -31:30

Précis:  In the first of this double parasha reading, Nitzavim, Moses continues to address the People: You stand (nitzavim) this day before Adonai. In his final words to the People, Moses recounts the wonders Adonai had done for them, and calls upon them to remain loyal to God by observing the Covenant. The extent of the relationship is explained: it will survive exile and captivity with a return to the Land. The Torah is an “open book” that is accessible to all. A blessing and a curse have been set before the People, and Moses urges them to choose the blessing, to choose life.

            In Va Yelech, The Israelites are instructed to annihilate the seven Canaanite nations and take possession of the Promised Land. The death of Moses approaches, and he transfers his mantle of leadership to Joshua as his successor. Moses orders regular reading of the Law, and then transfers the written Torah into the hands of the Levites for safekeeping in the Ark of the Covenant.

Deut. 29:9 -11 “You stand this day, all of you, before Adonai your God -  your tribal heads, your elders, your officials, all the men of Israel; your children, your wives, even the stranger in your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer, to enter into the covenant of Adonai your God…”

I find this verse to be compelling for any number of reasons. First and foremost, it is a statement of the essential unity of the Jewish People, making clear that from the greatest to the least, all stand together in a covenantal relationship to God, and (I imply) to each other. Second, the Hebrew grammar is instructive in its use of the pronouns “you” and “your.” Most of the times, they are in the plural as one might expect. However, the “your” as it relates to the stranger in the camp is in the singular. In effect, the stranger is “your” personal responsibility.

            As Rabbi Peretz Rodman has written (Torah Sparks, 9/28/16), “In the present verse the message is: "You [singular, this time] are the person who determines the living conditions of another human being, one whom you might ignore or neglect because his social status is low and his agency over his own life is limited. Do not overlook him." This is the same stranger (“ger”) who in the first chapter of Deuteronomy (1:6) has full equality under law, and perhaps also the same ger who should enjoy Shabbat rest (Ex. 23:12).

            Who is this ger who stands with us? It is the man, woman, or child who lives within our midst, but is not part of “us.” It may be the undocumented alien, the Dreamer, or those who live in poverty and despair. This verse, I would suggest, leads us to a conclusion that each of us has an individual responsibility to remember that these individuals “stand together” in a mutual covenantal relationship. We dare not overlook or ignore them. 

Ritual: Don't Forget the "Why"

Ki Tavo

Deut. 26:1-29:8

Précis: The parasha contains numerous religious mandates regarding the formation of a civil and moral community (including tithes of first fruits and tithes to support the Levites). The People are promised that if they follow God’s instructions, they will be transformed into a “holy people.” They are further instructed that they have a choice in their own destiny: there are blessings and curses (the “Admonition”), and they must to choose between the two, and take the consequences. The parasha ends with Moses reminding the People about all that God had done for them in bringing them from Egypt, providing sustenance, defeating their foes, and giving them the Land.

This week’s parasha is Ki Tavo, (Deut. 26:1-29:8). At its very beginning, we read a passage also found in the Passover Haggadah. It concerns the prayer which begins with the word “when you come into the land which Adonai has given you, and dwell there, you will take the first fruit of the ground… and you will come to the priest…and say to him, ‘my father was a wandering Aramean, and he went to Egypt, and there became a great nation… and now I have brought the first of the fruit of this land which You, Adonai, have given me.…’”

            We observe here the specific instructions for the ritual of offering first fruits. The commandment contains one of the very few times in the Torah that a prayer is specifically set forth as part of a ritual, to be spoken by individuals. (Another example is the Priestly Blessing in Num. 6:22-27). The Rabbis taught that this prayer, unlike virtually all others, must be recited in Hebrew. This prayer demonstrates that individuals were to take an active role in the ritual life of the people; it was not something left only to the Priests.

            Many Jews today – and here I include my Shoresh Hebrew High School students - have problems with the concept of ritual, and why ritual is relevant to them. When properly understood, ritual can teach us important lessons for living life. Here, the Torah ritual teaches us the importance of expressing gratitude. All too often, rabbis, teachers, and parents fail to provide enough explanation of ritual; when we instruct at all, it is often the “how to,” leaving out the “why.”

            These are the two parts of what some call the “worship experience.” Rote ritual without prayer is hollow, and prayer without ritual ignores the communal expression essential in Judaism. Human beings have a craving for ritual, as well as a desire to engage in meaningful prayer. All too frequently, we hear from our students and fellow Jews that reciting “the same words” is boring or tiresome. A challenge for modern Jews is to interpret ritual and prayer in ways that strike an emotional chord and help us connect with the Ineffable.

            As Cantor Edwin Gerber of Ohr Kodesh Congregation has taught me, one analogy to help us appreciate ritual is the metaphor of an orchestral performance. Unless an orchestra practices very carefully, through almost endless repetition, it cannot play the symphony correctly. Even when the musicians “know” the music well, there are only rare times when everyone plays together to create an outstanding performance. So it can be with prayer. It takes repetition to learn the words, and even once the words are known well, only occasionally do we achieve the exceptional state of “kavanah” (intention) that permits a transcendent experience. Just because we don’t reach the “outstanding performance” on every occasion is not a reason to stop trying.

           

For discussion: Is there a particular ritual that your family observes? What is the source of that ritual? Do all rituals have “equal weight?” Why or why not? If you were going to create a new Jewish ritual, what would it be?

A Key to a Happy Marriage

Ki Tetze

Deut. 21:10 - 25:19

Précis:  The parasha might be subtitled “entering society” because it describes the creation of a just and moral social network. This parasha, according to Maimonides, contains 72 mitzvot (commandments). They cover a wide variety of topics, from family life, human kindness, respect for property and animals, the safety of others, sexual relationships, escaped slaves, financial loans and charging interest, keeping promises, and remembering to blot out the name of one of Israel's greatest enemies. This assortment of commands included requirements that there be sex-distinct clothing; that mother birds not be separated from their eggs; that roof-tops have parapets; that seeds not be mixed in a field, and that “tzitzit” (fringes) be worn on garments.

Deut. 24:5 “When a man has taken a bride, he shall not go out with the army or be assigned to it for any purpose; he shall be exempt for one year for the sake of his household, to give happiness to the woman he has married."

            As regular readers of this weekly message know, my wife Abby and I celebrated our 45^th wedding anniversary last week. Several people have asked us what the “secret” is to a long-lasting and successful marital relationship. As it turns out, this week’s Torah reading may provide an important hint!

Former JTS Chancellor Schorsch  writes (reprinted in MyJewishLearning.com 8/28/12) of the “demanding complexity of matrimony.” Divorce and remarriage were issues when the Torah was received, and when the rabbis drafted the Talmud, and obviously remain issues today. Some have suggested that the institution of marriage is in jeopardy today, but that is not exactly a new phenomenon. A tale in our tradition suggests that since creating the Universe, God spends His time as a Heavenly matchmaker. Rare is the Jewish wedding when the officiant fails to remind the bride and groom that God’s involvement is needed in sustaining a long-lasting and successful marriage.

            The cited verse informs us that a newlywed groom, for a period of a year, is exempt from military service. This reflects a traditional Jewish view of marriage: it is a husband’s responsibility, particularly, in the first year, to create a relationship, both physical and emotional, with his wife. Procreation is certainly one goal, but the text explicitly underscores the husband's duty to make his new wife happy.  (I would add that the wife of course has a similar duty towards her husband!)

            It is interesting that this prohibition against a groom’s military service immediate follows a series of verses dealing with divorce. This proximity suggests that divorce can be avoided if the husband spends the first year of marriage really trying to please his wife.

            So, when asked what the “secret” to a long and happy marriage is, I can suggest that we turn toward this verse, and recognize the need to treat every year of marriage as if it was the first year, when the couples’ attention is directed so powerfully toward the happiness of the other.  

Continuing Revelation

Shoftim

Deut. 16:18-21:9

Précis: The parasha Shoftim (literally, “judges”) is devoted primarily to various themes of justice, and includes warnings against false testimony, idol worship, and the dangers posed by mortal kings. The parasha also warns the people against false prophets, magicians, soothsayers and witches. It establishes requirements for cities of refuge in the Promised Land. In short, the parasha is devoted to ways to create a just society in the Land of Israel.

Deut. 17:8-10 “If a case is too complicated for you to adjudicate, whether it is a controversy over a homicide, civil law, or assault-matters of dispute in your court-you shall quickly take it to the place where God has designated [for such disputes]. Appear before the Levitical priest or the judge who will be in those days and present your problem. When the verdict has been announced, you shall carry it out from the place God chose, attending meticulously to the details of the decision.”

            Rabbi Adam Raskin, in his d'var torah to Congregation Har Shalom (8/25/12) suggested that there is a deeply radical message embedded in this parasha. He says that the verse establishes the “very basis of rabbinic authority, the capacity for change, and the continuity of our tradition…. a handful of verses that are nothing short of a theological revolution...”

            In these verses, human beings are commanded to participate in the evolution of Jewish law and tradition. The Torah is the basis of law, but it must be implemented by human beings. In effect, the judgment of these human judges is the articulation of the Divine Will!  This is what we call “ongoing revelation.” Jewish law and thought are not to be frozen forever.

            For centuries, rabbinical authorities have issued t'shuvot (responsa) on all aspects of Jewish life; this is a process which continues today, with respected authorities from each branch of Judaism issuing thoughtful explications of law on a range of issues which were not considered 3,000 years ago: how are we to deal with issues of scientific discoveries, complex commercial concerns, or how the 21^st century impacts on our ritual observances.

            The Conservative Movement maintains that the Torah's intent is for an evolving Jewish perspective on all aspects of life which is based on the text as well as on the thoughtful exegesis of generations of scholars. Those of other branches may disagree (and they do!) with responsa issued by the Conservative Movement’s rabbis, and there are heated debates within every branch of Jewish thought. Most will at least acknowledge that Jewish thought and life have in fact evolved over the centuries and millennia. How we evolve, and the way in which we hold the text and tradition sacred is the cornerstone of the concept of continuing revelation.

These were not "fine people"

Re’eh

Deut. 11:26 - 16:17

Précis: Moses begins by quoting God, saying “Behold (re’eh), I set before you a blessing and a curse this day.” The blessing flows from observance of the laws and the curses result from violations. A concern with idolatry permeates the following verses. The parasha explains that there will be a single site for sacrifices. A test for a false prophet and the punishment of an idolatrous city are included. The parasha then shifts to other subjects: a prohibition against self-mutilation, the biblical basis of the laws of kashrut, tithing so that the needs are met for the Levites, the "stranger, the fatherless, and the widow.” Remission of debts, freeing of Hebrew slaves, and the dedication of firstborn cattle are discussed, as are the commandments for the observance of Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot.

Deut. 11:26–28 “Behold I set before you a blessing and a curse this day; a blessing if you obey the commandment…and a curse, if you will not obey the commandments…”

            The parasha begins with the word “behold” (re’eh) which in Hebrew is a singular verb. But the second word, “before you” (“lif’nechem”) is in the plural.   What does this grammatical oddity mean?  The rabbis suggest in the Talmud that the mitzvot were given to the Jews as a single group (hence the singular “behold”), but the plural “before you” means it is up to each individual to accept the blessing or the curse. This is not an issue of so-called moral equivalence: there are blessing and curses which derive from our actions to perform or abstain from mitzvot.

            This past week, we observed Nazi, KKK, and other “alt right” white supremacists hold a torch-lit parade through the UVA campus, and the following day they instigated a horrific melee with counter-protesters, ending in death and injury caused by an American white terrorist, who seemed to have “learned” from ISIS the technique of driving his car into a crowd of “others” who he opposes.

            Our President, after an unseemly delay, initially said there were “fine people” on both sides. The following day, he deplored the KKK and the neo-Nazis. Yet, in following days, he doubled-down and then tripled-down on his belief that there were “bad actors” and “fine people” on both sides of the dispute.

            There are no “fine people” among Nazis and members of the KKK or other white supremacist groups. Their beliefs are antithetical to American values. A torchlight parade to support the retention of a statue honoring the leader of the rebellion against the United States is all too reminiscent of the torchlight parades of the 1930’s in Germany.

            As our parasha reminds us, there is indeed a stark difference between good and evil, and there are starkly different outcomes for those who observe the mitzvot and those who don’t. While it is true that it appears that the willingness of evil to speak out is growing – and even to gain the tacit approval of the President on some level – we need to remind ourselves that our tradition demands justice and concern for the least among us, and that it is our duty to oppose evil wherever we find it. As Jews, we must stand up to the anti-Semites who comprise a significant segment of the so-called "alt right."

An economic philosophy

Ekev

Deut. 7:12 - 11:25

Précis: Moses continues his recapitulation of the commandments to the people, reminding them to be obedient to God’s laws in their forthcoming struggle with the Canaanites. He describes in detail all of the blessings which God had already provided them, and reminds them to bless and thank God for the bounty they receive. On the other hand, they should follow the rebelliousness of their fathers, including the incident of the Golden Calf, punishment will occur.

Deut. 8:10 "When you have eaten your fill, and have built fine houses to live in, and your herds and flocks have multiplied . . . beware lest your heart grow haughty and . . . you say to yourselves, 'My own power and the might of my own hand have won this wealth for me.'. . . Remember that it is the Lord your God who gives you the power to get wealth . . ."

One key teaching of this week's parasha is that wealth originates with God.  The text here is a basis for what we might call Jewish economic philosophy. This philosophy reminds us that we who are fortunate enough to accumulate wealth are merely stewards of God’s bounty, and as stewards, we have the responsibility to see to the needs of the poorest among us. As our text repeats so often, these are the fatherless, the widow, and the stranger. 

Our sense of social responsibility is totally oppositional to those who worship at the altar of private property, and who scorn those who lack the necessities of life as deserving of their status. This is not a merely political difference; rather, it is at its heart a remarkable moral distinction. A Jewish view is that the generation of wealth is in fact a collective effort, with God at its center. We do not become wealthy solely by our own efforts.  

It is quite obvious that in American society at large, we focus on the generation and growth of wealth. Rather than assuming economic success is a sign of God’s approval, we should remember that we are stewards of His bounty, and as stewards, we have responsibility to use our wealth to enhance the society in which we live.

Honor and Respect

Va'ethanan

Deut. 3:23 - 7:11

Précis: Moses continues the recapitulation of travels, and urges the People to follow the laws and commandments of Adonai. Moses pleads with God that he be allowed to enter the Promised Land, and is refused. Moses reminds the people that God was angry with him on account of their sinful ways, and therefore was refused permission to enter the Land. Moses continues with a restatement of the Ten Commandments, and follows with an articulation of the basic element of Jewish theology: the Sh’ma. Moses then warns the people against the perils of forgetfulness, particularly of the Exodus, and cautions against idol worship of gods of the nations they will conquer.

           

Deut. 5:16 “Honor your father and your mother, as the Lord your God has commanded you, so that you may live long and that it may go well with you in the land the Lord your God is giving you.”

Rabbi Lawrence W. Raphael has written a beautiful comment on this verse (MyJewishLearning.com, 8/16/16). He notes that honoring one’s parents is first found in Lev. 19:3, but here, the order or the parents is reversed, with “mother” coming before “father,” and a different verb is used (honor vs. respect).

Why the differences? One possible explanation appears in BT Kiddushin 31b–32a, in a discussion about what constitutes “honor.” The Talmud notes that “honor” is used in the Ten Commandments in both Exodus and Deuteronomy, but in Leviticus the verb is “respect.”

The Talmud reminds us that “respect” is observed by not standing in the parent’s usual place, not sitting where the parent normally sits, not contradicting the parent’s words, and not interfering in a parent’s dispute with others. This may imply that the word “respect” means to be aware of and sensitive to a parents’ feelings. A story is told which explains this concept.

            It once happened that there was a young man who fed his father fattened chickens, but when his father asked from where they came, the son replied, “Old man, old man, shut up and eat, even as dogs shut up when they eat.” Thus, even though the young man provided fine food for his father (thereby "honoring" him), he did not respect him.

            There was another young man whose work was grinding wheat. When the king sent word that millers must  go and work for him, the young man said to his father, “Father, you go to the my mill to grind in my stead, and I will go do the king’s work. Should there be humiliation in it, I would rather be humiliated and not you; should there be flogging, let me receive the blows and not you.” Thus, although he made his father work, he respected his feelings.

            No one can command the emotions of another. But appropriate and proper behavior can be defined and insisted upon. As Rabbi Raphael explains, “we honor our parents because it is they who gave us life. If they are lovable, we also love them. But whether or not they are lovable, we must honor them.” I would add that we must also respect them by be concerned about their feelings.

            This is a concern for children of every age. We know through experience that all is not sweetness and light with regard to the relationship between parents and children. But we can strive to both "honor" and "respect" them, whether we are youngsters being cared by them, or grownups caring and tending to the needs of aged parents.