Blessings

 Vayechi

Gen. 47:28 - 50:26

 

Précis: As the Book of Genesis comes to a close, Jacob lived (vayechi) in the land of Egypt for 17 years and dies after giving a final, poetic, individualized ethical testament to each of his sons. In a great funeral procession, Joseph, his brothers, and Pharaoh and his court bring Jacob’s body to Machpela to be buried. At the end of the parasha, Joseph dies after exacting a promise to bring his remains to the land of Israel as well.

Gen. 49:1-27 “And Jacob called his sons and said, ‘Come together, I may tell you what is to befall you in the days to come. Assemble and hearken, O sons of Jacob. Harken to Israel your father. Reuben, you are my first-born…’”

  

Rabbi Yaakov Pollak has written about the idea of “blessing” in the Book of Genesis which we conclude this week (MyJewishLearning.com, 1/10/17).

            How seriously should we take blessings we receive from others? The Sages state, unsurprisingly, “it depends.” It depends on who gives the blessing, and it depends on who receives the blessing.

            Early in the family saga we encounter in this Book, God Himself says to Abraham that “You will be a blessing” and thereby provides Abraham the imprimatur of Divine authority, and with it, the ability to bless others and to be a role model as well.  At his death Abraham bequeathed Isaac “all he possessed” as well as gifts to his other descendants. Midrash states, according to Rabbi Pollak, that Abraham gave much more than material wealth to Isaac; he gave him his essence and his connection to God. Jacob received this same gift (through subterfuge) from Isaac. As Jacob lay dying, he made his prophetic testimony regarding each of his sons. In addition to the individualized statements, he passed on to each of them the spiritual inheritance which God had originally granted to Abraham. In effect, all of the Children of Israel are inheritors of the Divine blessing.

            Because each of us is indirectly an inheritor of this same blessing, we should recognize that it is more than a grant of goodness, but rather a challenge to live up to Abraham’s ability to bless others and to act as a role model. How are we to accomplish this? What spiritual legacy will we each leave behind?

            I submit it is through actions, both great and small, that we leave behind a legacy which others can follow. It is found in the foundations of our tradition: study of Torah, acts of personal kindheartedness, and charitable acts. It may be visiting the sick, donating to a charity, comforting the bereaved, celebrating with a bride and groom, or by showing our children that with age wisdom can come, and that we all have the ability to overcome to some small degree the human weaknesses which all of us share.  

It would look bad

 Vayigash

Gen. 18 - 48:27

 

Précis: We approach the end of the Joseph saga. Benjamin is being held by Joseph as the alleged thief of a gold cup. Judah comes near (vayigash) Joseph, and begs for his brother’s life, offering himself as a substitute. Joseph is overcome and reveals himself to his brothers, forgiving them for selling him into slavery, stating that it was all part of God’s plan. Joseph sends them back home to bring Jacob and their families down to Egypt in order to survive the upcoming famine. They comply, and Joseph arranges for them to reside in the land of Goshen, living off “the fat of the land” at Pharaoh’s insistence. During the remainder of the famine, Joseph purchases land and cattle for Pharaoh, making serfs of the Egyptian people in exchange for the grain stored during the seven years of plenty. The Israelites prosper and multiply.

 

Gen. 45:1 “Then Joseph could not refrain himself before all of the retainers that stood before him, and he cried, ‘Cause every man to go out from me.’ And there stood no retainer with him, while Joseph made himself known to his brothers.’”         

            The ending of the Joseph saga approaches, as he identifies himself to his brothers, after sending out the Egyptian attendants from the room. Was this merely an insistence on family privacy? As I have mentioned, Rashi suggests that Joseph did not want to reveal to the Egyptians the brothers’ sins against him, and Rashi deduces from that an obligation to resist public shame of others.  

            In these days of increased anti-Semitism, I might suggest another rationale for Joseph’s actions: he did not want to Egyptians to know of the wrongs committed by his family because, as my grandfather would day, “It would look bad for the Jews.” We, as a People who have survived millennia of persecution, remain fearful (perhaps justifiably so) that a wrong committed by any Jew reflects adversely on all of us. This is today seen most commonly in the conflation between those who criticize Israeli policies and Jews I general. Contrary to Joseph’s decision to hide the facts, we need to actively display our belief in Israeli democracy, warts and all, and our support for the State. We may disagree with particular actions of particular Israeli governments, but is that not the mark of true freedom? Is that not the great gift of the Jewish People to the world?

Dream dreams

 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. He 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 would return to their homeland. On this cliffhanger, the parasha ends.

 

Gen. 41:15-16 “And Pharaoh said to Joseph, ‘I have had a dream, but no one can interpret it. Now I have heard it said of you that for you to hear a dream is to tell its meaning.’ Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying, ‘Not I! God will see to Pharaoh's welfare.’”

 

Rabbi Sacks (z’l) talked about dreams as the keys to Joseph’s incredible rise to power (Covenant and Conversation, 12/17/20).

             He noted that Joseph had three gifts: he dreamed dreams, he interpreted dreams, and he had the ability to implement those dreams. His first dreams (of his brothers and his parents) might have merely been childish imagining; instead, they were harbingers of the future: his brothers would indeed bow down to him.

            His interpretations were not miraculous. The butler and wine bearer were placed in prison shortly before Pharaoh's birthday celebration. Sherlock Holmes might have called such a conclusion "elementary."

            As to Pharaoh's dreams, Joseph may well have been aware of periodic famines that often beset the Nile Valley.

            Sacks suggests that Joseph’s greatest ability, however, was the third gift: the ability to implement solutions to those dreams. Joseph had previously shown administrative ability in Potiphar’s house, and in prison as well. Now, he becomes second only to Pharoah over all of Egypt.

            What do we learn from this saga? We should dream dreams, and let our imaginations soar.  Let our dreams unearth our passions. Sacks notes that Herzl used to say, “If you will it, it is no dream.” The State of Israel was the result of that dream.

            We also learn that great leaders interpret other people’s dreams. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I have a dream” speech is but one example.

            Finally, we must find ways to implement those dreams. A true leader selects advisors who are problem-solvers who see ways to alleviate the suffering of those they served.

            As Sacks concludes, “Dream dreams; understand and articulate the dreams of others; and find ways of turning a dream into a reality – these three gifts are leadership, the Joseph way.”

Hineini

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. 37:13 “Israel said to Joseph, ‘Your brothers are pasturing their father’s flock in Shechem. Come, I will send you to them.’ He answered, ‘I am ready.’”

 

In my congregation, we adopt a concept annually which forms the basis for study. This year, we have chosen “Hineini” (usually translated as “I am here”) as the key concept for consideration. As we explain, “Hineini summons us to focus our attention to our journey of t’shuvah, repentance and return. In 5782, let us be abundantly present in our learning, tefillot (prayers), to religious and community life, to ourselves and to one another.”

            I mention this theme because my review of the parasha drew my attention to this verse. What is translated as “I am ready” is another meaning of the Hebrew word hineini.

            As we know from our readings, the word hineini is used more than once: For example, Abraham and Moses both use this word to respond to God, signaling their openness to hearing God’s message, or being prepared to obey God’s command. In this instance, we see Joseph responding to his father as both acknowledgement and obeisance.

           As Rabbi David Cohen has suggested (Wisconsin Jewish Chronicle, 2/26/14)

“To say ‘hineni’ is to live simultaneously in the past, present and future: To be aware of our past as a source of our identity and values; to see the future, alert to its possibilities, committed to its betterment; and to experience every day in the present, living according to our values, grateful for every moment.”

            As some commentators have noted, Joseph led a remarkably solitary existence, estranged from his family for most of his life, rising from slavery and prison to the heights of political power. His statement of “hineini” at this beginning of his narrative is a harbinger of the arc of his life, which we can hope to emulate. He was present, he was ready, and he acted when the opportunity to do so arose.

            We are the inheritors of a rich tradition of teaching which forms the foundation of our ethos. We should strive daily to live up to those demands, and we should look in hope to a future where gratitude is common, where love of our fellow human beings and the earth we live on is universal, and where justice is available and provided to all. We should always respond to the challenges we face with "hineini."

 

Reconciliation

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 Esau threatened to kill Jacob, Jacob ran away. He returns to meet his estranged brother decades later, now accompanied by wives and children, a wealthy man who has actually struggled with God and has had his name changed to Israel to reflect that encounter. Instead of anger, Esau reacts with tears and kisses. Is there peace at last between the brothers?

            The rabbis had difficulties imagining that Esau was in fact reconciled. The text gives them some support: the brothers go their separate ways, and never (at least in the text) meet again until they bury their father. Moreover, since our Tradition uses Esau as a proxy for Edom and Rome, two traditional foes of Israel, the rabbis infer that Esau’s kiss and tears was less than honest.

            I prefer to see the kiss and tears as truthfully offered. In this family history beset with sibling rivalry, even the most awful interactions can eventually be forgiven.  Although infrequent, many have observed long-term interpersonal relationships cursed with discord eventually resolve into renewed closeness. It is rare, but it is possible.

            This is true not only within families, but within nations as well. This thought was reinforced by news this week of new climate-related projects among Israel, Jordan, and the UAE. Perhaps that is the lesson for our times: reconciliation is difficult, but not impossible.

Hard Working Ameican Families

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.’”

            As I have mentioned before, The Sforno, the 16th century Italian commentator, relates that Jacob, a stranger, chastises the workers for quitting early. From this, he draws an ethical mandate: a righteous man objects to a wrong that he observes, even though 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.

            This week, I wanted to look at this verse not from Jacob’s perspective, but rather from the shepherds’ point of view. We can’t stand idly by as working people are deprived of the ability to earn enough to support themselves or their families.

            Perhaps these shepherds were employed by Laban, an individual who we know from the text was far from an ideal employer. He changed conditions adversely for those who worked for him (including Jacob). Perhaps they were actually justified in stopping work early in the day because their pay was insufficient, or because they were not treated properly by their employer.

            Today, we have seen a remarkable change taking place in the American workforce. Some are calling it the “Great Resignation” as record numbers of individuals are quitting their jobs for a wide range of causes. Perhaps because of COVID, perhaps because many baby boomers have decided it’s just not worth going back to work, perhaps because many women lack access to reliable child-care, and perhaps because of limits on immigration, the number of folks actually in the workforce has shrunk. Suddenly, many employers are raising wages, offering new benefits, and beginning to treat their workers in a way which is more humane.

            Our tradition is clear in this regard: employees are to be treated with dignity, paid promptly, and dealt with respectfully. In the United States, with the decrease of union representation over the past decades to its lowest level since the Labor Movement began, we see that employers have fought their way to the bottom wherever possible, treating employees with disregard for their ability to provide for their families. Perhaps, just perhaps, we are witnessing the beginning of a turn-around. Living wages are a necessity in a society as wealthy as ours. With the stock markets at record highs, with the insane accumulation of wealth among a handful of uber-billionaires, perhaps the time has come to commit to actually help what politicians love to call “hard working American families” while they sit on their well-padded bottoms and do little to help.

            President Biden is seeking a real way to help American families, through enhanced child care benefits, universal pre-k education, improved Medicare coverage, and improved tuition assistance for higher education. In this era of political division, the chances of these changes being enacted are questionable at best. But we, as ever, must see to the needs of the least fortunate among us.

Two Separate Nations

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 the 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, and he sets off at the conclusion of the parasha.

 

Gen. 25:23 “Two nations are in your womb, two separate nations shall issue from your body; one nation shall be mightier than the other, and the older shall serve the younger.’”

 

Rabbi Mordechai Silverstein has written about the implications of this verse (Conservative Yeshiva, 11/15/17).

            This promise is the answer to Rebekah’s inquiry of God: “She inquired of the Lord, and the Lord answered her" (Genesis 25:22). Silverstein suggests that this establishes the Jacob/Esau paradigm of national conflict.

            First, of course, is the bitter rivalry and death threat by Esau to Jacob, followed by decades of estrangement, and completed with an inconclusive reconciliation. Much midrash suggests that the so-called reconciliation was temporary at best.

            During the First Temple period, our tradition identified Esau as the nation of Edom, a nation about which our texts had mixed attitudes. The Bible tells us not to mistreat Edomites (“You shall not abhor the Edomite, for he is your kinsman” [Deut. 23:8]). On the other hand, Balaam’s prophecy states that Edom would be the Jewish People’s enemy (“Edom becomes a possession, yeah, Seir a possession of its enemies; but Israel is triumphant.” [Num. 24:18]). It is reflected as well in the words of the prophet Obadiah: “And liberators shall ascend Mount Zion to bring judgment on Mount Esau; and dominion shall be the Lord's” Obadiah 1:21). The Edomites allied themselves with Babylonia at the time of the destruction of the Temple, cementing their role as adversaries.

            The Jacob/Esau struggle became the symbol for the Jewish conflict with the Romans during the time of the Second Temple. Subsequently, when the Roman Empire became Christian, Edom symbolized Christianity as well. Thus, the Jacob/Esau struggle came to be viewed by our Tradition as a fight of Good vs. Evil, what today we would call a conflict between two civilizations.

            The prenatal conflict between Jacob and Esau transmuted into the real struggles of a minority people (the Jews) in the context of a dominant broader culture (first Romans, then Christians). As Silverstein concludes, there is incredible ambivalence in this relationship. Will conflict ever end? This question looms large for us in every generation. Some suggest that the modern Edom is that part of the world which is steeped in anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism. Even if true, we can take some solace that for more than 3 millennia, the Jewish People have continued to overcome the threats of Edom, and with God’s blessings, we will continue to do so.

The Resident Alien

 

Chaye Sarah

Gen. 23:1-25:18

 

Précis: The parasha begins with the counting the days of the life of Sarah (Chaye 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. 23:1-2 “And the life of Sarah was a hundred and seven and twenty years; these were the days of the life of Sarah. Abraham arose from beside his dead, and spoke to the Hittites, saying, ‘I am a resident alien among you; sell me a burial site.’”     

 

            Rabbi Dan Moskovitz (10 Minutes of Torah, 1/18/19) focuses on one particular phrase in this week’s reading: the term ger v’toshav, or “resident foreigner.”

            What does a “resident alien” really mean? Our tradition suggests it is an individual with a special status, living permanently among​​ ​us, but without actual citizenship. The resident alien had all of the protections of law, but was exempt from most citizenship requirements.  In other words, a ger toshav was a protected visitor and honored guest.

            Thirty-six times in Torah, we are commanded to “love the stranger.” In this parashah, Abraham is not presented as the powerful, wealthy businessman he was nor as a man who regularly talked with God. Instead, he is presented as a helpless stranger. The Hittites violate their own law against selling land to outsiders like Abraham. Why? Moskowitz suggests that it was because they saw themselves in his shoes, and they imagined their own dead lying at their feet.

            History in general, and Jewish history in particular, is replete with experiences of being the outsider who does not fit into society. Indeed, in the Islamic world, Jews were regarded as second-class citizens, even though usually recognized as “people of the Book,” before they were expelled from most of those lands. In Christian Europe, Jews rarely if ever were granted citizenship prior to the late 18^th century of the common era. So, the Torah commands us to see to the welfare of the stranger among us, and our history reminds us that it is a personal obligation.

            Today, with millions of refugees from famine, war, disease, and climate change, it seems time for us to recommit to the Jewish demand that we see to the needs of the resident aliens among us, and welcome the stranger into our midst.

Faith and Uncertainty

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’…. Isaac spoke up and said to his father Abraham, ‘Father?’ ‘Yes, my son?’ Abraham replied. ‘The fire and wood are here,’ Isaac said, ‘but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?’ Abraham answered, ‘God will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.’ And the two of them went on together… Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it. 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, ‘Abraham! Abraham!’ ‘Here I am,’ he replied. ‘Do not lay a hand on the boy,’ he said. ‘Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from Me your son, your only son.’”

 

The Akeda is perhaps the most difficult story to understand. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, writing in Covenant and Conversation (11/13/19) notes that the traditional interpretations fall a bit short.

            The Torah regards child sacrifice as one of the worst of evils. Yet the text implies he is being asked to do that deed. If the “trial” was really about his willingness to sacrifice Isaac, then our Tradition would have been no better than those of the pagans who regularly engaged in this practice.
            Sacks notes that the name Abram means “mighty father.” A model father does not sacrifice his child. He argues that while it tested Abraham’s faith to the limit, it was really about something else.
            First he notes a disconnect between God’s promises and what actually transpires. Abraham is promised the land on seven different occasions, and yet when his wife dies, he must purchase burial property. He dwells in the Land, and yet is forced to flee to Egypt to escape famine, endangering his wife along the way. Sacks sees a pattern emerging: there is a long and winding road between God's promise and fulfilment. God does keep His word, but Abraham and his descendants have lots to do to perform their side of the Covenant: create a sacred society, abandon idolatry, accept a revolutionary and demanding code of conduct. God will bring about everything He promised, but not immediately.

            God promises Abraham on four occasions that his descendants would be a great nation. Yet his son Ishmael is not an acceptable heir. Against this background of multiple promises of children, Abraham is commanded to sacrifice Isaac.          

            Sacks says that the trial was not to see whether Abraham had the strength to give up something that he loved, which he had previously done (leaving his country and father’s home, giving up his son Ishmael). Could Abraham live with the clear contradiction between God's promises and His demand? This was the test: could Abraham live with uncertainty, and until it was over, Abraham did not know how it would turn out.
            So, this was not a test of faith as we commonly believe: it was a test of whether one can have faith in the face of uncertainty. As Sacks states, “Abraham taught us that faith is not certainty; it is the courage to live with uncertainty.”  We live lives of uncertainty. Can we have the courage to accept this fact?

A Mission

 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 reaches 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. 12:1 “And Adonai said to Abram, ‘Go forth from your land and your birthplace and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.’”

 

I have been a devoted fan of Star Trek since its debut on September 8, 1966. It’s been a few weeks more than 55 years since Captain James Tiberius Kirk initiated a 5-year mission “to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

            I had not connected Abram to Captain Kirk before. Nevertheless, their “missions” had remarkable similarities (although probably not in the mind of the show’s creator, Gene Roddenberry, who has been quoted as saying he was trying to write a series like the then-popular western, Wagon Train, only moving it into space). Abram was sent to explore a new world, to seek out and create a new civilization, and to go boldly where no one had gone before (at least metaphysically speaking).

            I usually write this weekly message to bring the Torah’s teachings to major issues we face together. This week, I write to honor William Shatner, the original Captain Kirk, as he became the oldest human to briefly venture into space, aboard Blue Origin, at the age of 90. Live long and prosper, William Shatner!

Causes of Cataclysm

 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. 6:13 “The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with lawlessness. When God saw how corrupt the earth was, for all flesh had corrupted its ways on earth, God said to Noah, ‘I have decided to put an end to all flesh, for the earth is filled with lawlessness because of them: I am about to destroy them with the earth.’”

 

It is clear that the text is telling us that there is a direct link between human corruption (Evil? Intolerance? Hatred? Sins of the flesh? – the text doesn't tell us what) and God’s actions. It sets up a traditional sin causes punishment dialectic which much of Jewish tradition accepts.

            I have a problem with this view. Cataclysms are not the result of sin, despite what some fundamentalist religious authorities aver. One might even argue that God’s creation of a rainbow after the Flood was a signal that He would never eradicate humanity in any fashion.

            But some cataclysms are the work of humanity. Ignore, if you will, that climate change poses a threat to ourselves and future generations. That ignorance is willful and wrong. Ignore the millions of economic refugees seeking a better life, and that ignorance is also willful and wrong. Refuse vaccination because you fear that the vaccine doesn't work (it does) or because it somehow impinges on your personal freedom (there are far greater limitations we accept without thinking). That ignorance is also willful and wrong

            Last week, I suggested that when God created Man, He knew His creations could create the most terrible darkness. We can create Holocausts and plagues, wars and floods, mass extinctions and what we politely call “inhumane” activities. When God created Man, He also endowed human beings with the ability to care for others, to seek knowledge, and as we most often recite, to see to the needs of the widow, the orphan, and the stranger. 

Why was Man created?

 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. Yohanan 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. 1:26-27: “Let us make man in our image, according to our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of heaven, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every moving thing that moves upon the earth. So God created man in His image, In the image of God He created him, Male and female He created them.”

 

Lord Jonathan Sacks (z’l), writing in Covenant and Conversation (10/10/17), initiates his discussion of creation by noting that the text shows that God’s initial work was effortless. Repeatedly we read, “And God said, ‘Let there be … and there was … and God saw that it was good" until we come to the creation of Adam, the human beings, in this verse. Then the tone of creation changes in important ways. Why the plural “us?”

            Sacks cites a Talmudic explication: the “us” refers to the angels with whom God consulted. Why the need for consultation?  By making humans, He was creating the one thing beside Himself which had the power to destroy the world. He did so because He was faced with a fateful dilemma.  Sacks tells the following tale from the Talmud:

           

            “When the Holy One, blessed be He, came to create man, He created a group of ministering angels and asked them, ‘Do you agree that we should make man in our image?’ They replied, ‘Sovereign of the Universe, what will be his deeds?’

            God showed them the history of mankind. The angels replied, ‘What is man that You are mindful of him?’ [in other words, let man not be created].

            God destroyed the angels.

            He created a second group, and asked them the same question, and they gave the same answer. God destroyed them.

            He created a third group of angels, and they replied, ‘Sovereign of the Universe, the first and second group of angels told You not to create man, and it did not avail them. You did not listen. What then can we say but this: The universe is Yours. Do with it as You wish.’ Then God created man."

           This goes to the core of a dilemma even God cannot escape. If God did not create humankind with free will, there would be none who could understand God, or even grasp that God exists. In other words, the creation of Man was the creation of self-consciousness.

            Sacks’ theology is radical. It implies that God had faith in Man.  What matters most is not that we have faith in God, but that God has faith in us. This, Sacks calls “the real religious mystery” of Judaism.

            Throughout Torah, God again and again forgives an ungrateful and appalling humanity. He is disappointed with Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Moses, Joshua and countless others. Most of the prophets disappoint as well.  But God is forgiving, never losing faith in humanity.

            When we perceive the evil of history, we remember that God did not stop human beings from evil behaviors: Adam and Eve ate forbidden fruit, He did not stop Cain’s murder, nor the Egyptians from cruel enslavement.  The Holocaust happened, and many said, “Where was God?” The proper question should have been, “What is man?”

            We face evil every day, and ultimately our future is uncertain. We can believe that the world was created by unknowable forces of Nature, or we can accept the Jewish concept that the world was created by a God who knew His creations could create the most terrible darkness. I chose the latter, because it means that there is indeed a God who has faith in us, and so that we can have hope for the future.

--

Hineni

Ha’azinu

Deut. 32:1-52

 

Précis: The parasha, the shortest in the Five Books, containing only 52 verses, begins with the “Song of Moses,” a hymn sung by Moses within sight of the Promised Land. The song contrasts God’s fidelity with the faithlessness of the People, and the need of the People to learn from their history under God’s care. Moses predicts that Israel’s enemies will be overcome. He is told to climb a mountain to see the Promised Land he will not enter, as he prepares for his death. This is the last parasha read on Shabbat in the annual cycle: the final parasha (V’zot Habracha) is read traditionally on Simchat Torah.

Deut. 32:52 “You may view the land from a distance, but you shall not enter it, the land that I am giving to the Israelite people.”

            Imagine, if you will, Moses’ reaction to this statement. He has previously been told that he would not enter the Land, but now, looking at it, the reality of his predicament becomes concrete. There is no further appeal. He must accept his destiny.

            In many ways, we too must learn to accept what life provides us. The dreams of our youth may never be realized, and the plans we have made may come to nothing. We can hope that the future will turn out well for us, our families, friends, and congregations, but there is no guarantee.

            The theme for my congregation (Ohr Kodesh Congregation in Chevy Chase MD.) this holiday season has been “hineni” – here I am. This particular phrase appears at key points in the Biblical narrative: by Adam, by Abraham, and by Moses. It can mean “I’m here, hiding in the bushes.” It can mean “I am here, prepared to heed Your word.” It can mean “I’m here, ready to lead your People.” To me, hineni is a statement of submission to God’s will. We can dream our dreams and see them fulfilled or unfulfilled. It can also mean (and this is how I prefer to understand it this year) “I am here, ready to thank God for the blessings we have received. As is stated in the Lev Shalem Machzor in connection with the Yom Kippur morning haftarah selection from Isaiah (58:9), Isaiah says, “When you call, Adonai will say hineni, here I am.”  Through good works, compassion, and tikkun olam, we have the chance to bring God into this world. He need not be seen from a distance. 

Fear Not

 Vayeilech

Deut. 31:1-31

 

Précis: 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. 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. 31:6 “Be strong and of good courage; be not in fear or in dread of them; for Adonai, your God Himself marches with you; He will not fail you or forsake you.” 

 

The reading this year is for Shabbat Shuvah (the Sabbath of Return), the Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. The cited verse suggests that God is a constant companion and protector, in both war and peace.

            This year, it is hard to have faith in this concept. Covid, floods, fires, hurricanes, political division at home and abroad, a humiliating (albeit necessary) departure from Afghanistan, and renewed assaults on human rights (especially against immigrants, minorities – including the Jews – and women’s right to choose). I find it really difficult to begin each day with the newspaper, which includes a litany of woe.

            Shabbat Shuvah reminds us that what “is” is not necessarily what will be. We, as individuals, families, and even nations have the possibility of t’shuvah through careful introspection into both the good as well as the bad, by treating our fellow human beings with the care and love we ourselves want, and by supporting those most in need of our help, be they immigrants, first responders, firefighters, the unemployed, or those victims of the current dangers we have seen.  We may find hope in the concept of gratitude for the blessings we have. We do these things not only because they are good, but because God will not fail or forsake us.

            May we all have a good conclusion to these Days of Awe, and a New Year of health, safety, and true hopefulness.

            

We are not alone

Nitzavim

Deut. 29:9 -30:20

 

Précis: 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.

 

Deut. 30:11-14 “Now this teaching is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach. It is not up in heaven, so that you have to ask ‘Who will ascend into heaven to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?’ Nor is it beyond the sea so that you have to ask ‘Who will cross the sea to get it and proclaim it to us so that we may obey it?’ No, the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so that you may obey it.”

           We read this parasha just a few days before Rosh Hashanah this year, and these verses underscore the partnership we have with God at this season.  

            “This teaching” refers to the Torah as given – the work of God. It tells us what to do, but not necessarily how to do it. The “how to” is within the province of human beings. The Torah was revealed to Israel at a time and place now long lost to history. Whether or not the story of Mt. Sinai is history or myth, there is little doubt that the Written Word evolved over time as men (mostly men) attempted to apply its lessons to the world they lived in. It is a continuing effort.

            The Talmud displays time and again that “how to” obey God’s commands was debated, and often left unresolved. One principle was clear nevertheless: all who contributed to the debate merited praise. Sometimes, a consensus emerged. At other times, different opinions predominated.  That is certainly the case today.

            The great Sage Rabbi Yehoshua believed that man’s interpretation was the key factor, basing his opinion on the text here: “The Torah is not in heaven.” According to the Talmud (BT Bava M’tzia 59b), when God heard Rabbi Yehoshua’s statement, “God smiled and stated, ‘My children have triumphed over Me.’”

            As this parasha reminds at the outset, we stand together, and we are not alone. We look into ourselves, we look towards others, and we look for God. We look at the past, present and future with hope. When we stand together and when we contribute to debate in the name of God, God smiles at us. As we approach Rosh Hashanah, particularly this year, we need that smile. 

A Tochacha for our times

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 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.

 

 Deut.28:15-68 “But if you do not obey the Lord your God…all these curses shall come upon you…Cursed shall you be in the city and cursed in the country...Cursed shall be the issue of your womb…The Lord will make pestilence cling to you… The skies above your head shall be copper and the earth under you iron…The Lord will strike you with madness, blindness, and dismay…In the morning you shall say, ‘if only it were evening’ and in the evening you shall say ‘If only it were morning….'”

           

            These verses include the curses of the tochacha, (the “Admonition.)”  They are a paragon of threat and fear. This year, I have attempted a new tochacha, relevant to our times:

           

            "Cursed shall you be by disease, by hunger, by floods, and by fires;

            Cursed shall you be by your failure to maintain the Earth’s beauty and purity;

            Cursed shall be your nation with intolerance, hatred, inequity, and fear of the stranger;

            Cursed shall be your leaders who fail to agree on measures to sustain your nation and all of its people;

            Cursed shall you be by your failure to acknowledge truth and clinging to false prophets of conspiracies;

            Cursed shall you be with unending strife between Israel and its neighbors;

            Cursed shall you be in your going out and in your coming in; you will fear to hold those most dear to you, and you shall fear for your health and for the health of those you love.”

           

            Fear is an incredibly powerful emotion. It can paralyze us. One of the ways we can overcome fear is through unity with others, now made more of a challenge by Covid.

            Nevertheless, we can believe that by living good, moral and ethical lives that the worst will not happen, and that the curses we face can be eliminated by our hope and by our actions. In this time leading up to Rosh Hashanah, we can focus on our dreams and blessings (in my case, sharing my wedding anniversary with the one I love) instead of our fears. FDR famously said that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” 

               We delude ourselves by ignoring the real curses now upon us. In one way, however, FDR was correct: fear can be our worst enemy. We must recognize that the road ahead will be treacherous and difficult, but as our tradition reminds us, with repentance, prayer, and acts of loving-kindness, we can together overcome the severe decree.

Ethics, the "other," and creation

 Ki Tetze

Deut. 21:10 - 25:19

 

Précis:  The week’s reading begins with the phrase “when you go forth” (ki tetze) to battle. 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.

 

Rabbi Rachel Sabath Beit-Halachmi has carefully brought into focus the variety of laws appearing in this parasha (ReformJudaism.org, 8/20/18). She suggests that there are three areas to consider: upholding an ethical society, understanding the “other,” and preserving God’s cosmos.  

            We create an ethical society when we regulate competition between brethren, wives, and disobedient children. We create an ethical society when we are commanded not to ignore the losses suffered by others, to guard the property of others as though it was our own, and to respect the fact that gender is important (whether we agree or disagree with the specific commandment here).

            We are taught to understand what she calls the “face of the other.” We are commanded to recognize the fundamental humanity of even our enemies during and after war. Victory does not permit us to engage inhumanely with those we have defeated.

             Finally, this parasha demands us to be guardians of God’s creation, and remember His creation through our conduct and clothing. We must not interfere with natural processes by mixing seeds improperly.  We must treat animals with kindness, not separating the mother bird from its offspring. We cannot yoke animals of uneven strength, as one will surely suffer. It is our responsibility to maintain the sensitivity which helps preserve our humanity, and to remember that God created a natural order which our lack of humanity can threaten.

            In other words, these details of human behavior provide a matrix for an individual not only to prosper as part of a community, but to be concerned with the fate of others, and of God’s creation itself.

Making Sense of the Red Heifer

 Chukat

Num. 19:1 - 22:1

 

Précis: The parasha begins with a discussion of the Red Heifer, used for ritual purification after one comes into contact with a dead body. The story then shifts to the death of Miriam, and the mourning by the entire people for her. With her death, the well of water which had accompanied their travels disappears, and Moses strikes a rock to provide water to the People. Soon thereafter, Aaron also dies, and the Israelites engage in a series of battles which conclude the parasha.

 

Num.19:2 “This is the statute of law which Adonai commanded….”

 

We are faced with the riddle of the Red Heifer. It is paradoxical. God states that those who prepare the ashes of the Red Heifer become impure.  Nevertheless, the ashes are used to purify others.  How can we reconcile this seeming contradiction?

            Perhaps we can find a hint: by using something impure, we acknowledge that we have something which must be remedied.  

            To be more specific, we all engage in actions we wished we did not do. For some, such actions are self-destructive and life-threatening. Those with knowledge or experience of addiction know that behaviors can really change only when the sufferer hits the bottom and sees that fact.  Knowing that one is helpless to rectify an addiction, but also knowing that there is a “Higher Power” which can help one change, is at the heart of 12 step programs. Truly negative behavior, in this light, is seen as a way to stimulate change.

            The ashes of the red heifer ashes are impure, but give us a way to return to ritual purity. Our self-destructive actions, once we admit to them, can be a “first step” to a restoration of a life worth living. 

The wanna-be tyrant

Korach

Num. 16:1 - 18:32

 

Précis: Korach foments a rebellion, claiming that Moses and Aaron have taken too much power for themselves. Datan and Abiram also attack Moses’ leadership, claiming that Moses has brought them from a land of milk and honey (Egypt!) only to let them die in the wilderness. A test of fire offerings is arranged, and Korach and his followers are destroyed as the earth opens and swallows them. The People continue to complain, God threatens to destroy them once again, but Moses and Aaron intercede. A plague takes the lives of 14,000 people. A final test, that of staffs, is performed, and when Aaron’s staff miraculously blossoms on the following morning, it is clear that his status as High Priest is secure.

 

Num. 16:28-30 “By this you shall know that it was the Lord who sent me to do all these things; that they are not of my own devising: if these men die as all men do, if their lot be the common fate of all mankind, it was not the Lord who sent me. But if the Lord brings about something unheard of, so that the ground opens its mouth and swallows them up with all that belongs to them, and they go down alive into Sheol, you shall know that these men have spurned the Lord.”

            Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (z’l), in his weekly commentary (6/21/17) that Korach’s rebellion was the most dangerous challenge to Moses’ leadership. He notes that the narrative is somewhat confusing, but it is clear that the insurrectionists were motivated with different reasons for resentment. Korach himself was a Levite, and was upset because he had a better claim than Aaron to the High Priesthood (according to Rashi). Abiram and Datan were of the tribe of Reuban (the first-born son of Jacob) and objected to Moses’ leadership because he (Moses) was a Levite, and of Moses' appointment of Joshua (of the tribe of Ephraim).

            They all pose as what today we would call democratic egalitarians (“All the community are holy, all of them . . . Why then do you raise yourself above the Lord’s congregation?”).

            As Sacks notes, the story of Korach is intensely realistic, and he is a symbol of a “coldly calculating man of ambition who foments discontent against a leader, accusing him of being a self-seeking tyrant. He opposes him in the name of freedom, but what he really wants is to become a tyrant himself.”

            Today in Israel (as has been and remains the case in the United States), an individual accuses the leader by fomenting dissent and discontent. Prime Minister Netanyahu has torn out the final pages of the Trump Handbook and now declares that the most recent election was a “fraud” and that the incoming “change coalition” government is illegitimate and a threat to the security and future of the State. Netanyahu is seeking to create another “Big Lie” for the purpose of keeping his leadership role of Israel at all costs, and thereby avoiding the possibility of his conviction on the criminal charges he now faces.

            Moses, on the other hand, does not create animosity, but states that the ills which have befallen the insurgents were at God’s command. He seeks healing and understanding, “falling on his face” before Korach as he seeks reconciliation. It is only when reconciliation has been refused that God takes up the power to end the rebellion. Those who rebel will never enter the land and never become a nation. We can only pray that in Israel and in the United States, a way can be found to find the reconciliation Moses sought, before we all suffer from the evil outcomes which we all face.

Facts and Truth

Sh’lach

Num. 13:1-15:41

 

Précis: Moses is ordered to “send out” (sh’lach l’cha) spies to examine the land. Representatives of each tribe go out, report on its bounty, but also report about its fearsome inhabitants. The People are frightened, and their “murmuring” turns into something close to panic. God tells Moses that He will destroy the People, but Moses intercedes; the People are sentenced to spend 40 years in the wilderness. The parasha then returns to matters concerning the Tabernacle, with a discussion of the offering for unintentional sins. Near its end, the parasha discusses the wearing of tzitzit, a paragraph which is part of the traditional recitation of the Sh’ma. This is the 27th of 54 parshiot, marking the half-way point in the yearly reading.

 

Num. 13:27-28 “And they told him, ‘We came to the land you sent us to, and surely it flows with milk and honey; but the people that live in the land are fierce. And the cities are fortified, and very great, moreover, we saw Amalekites there.’”

            In 2007, I wrote in my weekly d’var the following:

            As Etz Hayim suggests, “truth” is not a mere matter of factual accuracy, but is also a matter of how the facts are presented. Even when the “empirical facts” are accurately reported, the “truth” may elude us. Context, background, history, expression, and intention are all a part of how we communicate the “truth,” whether it is about our congregations, our families, or even our country.

            This previous commentary needs an update, because increasingly in America the factionalism which so divides political parties and even families is driven by a divergence of what different sides deem to be facts. We watched the insurrection at the Capitol on January 6, 2021 by those who believed the Big Lie that the presidential election had been stolen. Now we hear folks who try to justify what we watched as merely being folks visiting the Capitol, or that it was protected First Amendment expression, or that any violence was due to left-wing agitators masquerading as Trump supporters.

            Last week, Republican Senators blocked by filibuster the creation of an independent, bi-partisan panel to investigate the background which led to the January 6 insurrection. They had no justification for their position other than the fear that disclosure of the empirical facts would be harmful to their political future, and (perhaps more importantly) the investigation was opposed by the former President.

            One definition of the word “cult” is “a misplaced or excessive admiration for a particular person or thing.” I maintain that this is precisely the motivation of those who refuse to investigate, let alone accept, the facts of this most heinous event in recent American history.