Last week I shared a quote from Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo that addressed the issue of what was given at Sinai. While ideally there should have been as many texts given as there were Jews who received it, only one was given.
Rabbi Cardozo attributed this to the need for unity among Jews and shaping the Jewish people. Being that we are people of deed rather than creed, Rabbi Cardozo expanded upon this idea with regard to the mitzvot.
It could even been argued that not all Jews were in need of the same mitzvot. It was only for the sake of comradeship and for the common destiny of the Jewish people and their mission to the world that they all had to commit themselves to all of the mitzvot. (Jewish Law as Rebellion by Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo, pg. 69)
This idea reminds me of another Cardozo quote: The deed shows man who he really is and not what he would like to be. Here his own self is exposed: what man does not dare to think, he shows in his deeds. The “real” heart of man is revealed in his deeds. Man may have lofty ideas but behave like a criminal.(Crisis, Covenant and Creativity by Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo, pg. 156)
We are what we do.
Quite frequently the question of what happened at Sinai arises. What was given? What did people hear? What are the implications of being given one text? Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo addresses these issues in his book Jewish Law as Rebellion.
… one could argue that ideally no written text should have been given at Sinai, since no two people are able to read the same text in an identical way. The meaning of the text is dependent to a large extent on the reader, and is therefore not a fixed reality. The fact that a text was even given at Sinai is itself a compromise. Even if a text should have been given, a priori, it should have been in as many versions as there are Jews since Sinai. This did not happen; only one text was revealed. This was due to the fact that there was a need for unity and affiliation among Jews, sharing the experience of a divine text in a bond of togetherness, shaping a Chosen People that would carry the word of God to the world. There was a need for a grundnorm (fundamental norm) through which Jews would be able to discuss the word of God and share it wherever they go. Above all, a fixed text was necessary to facilitate discussion, not agreement. In this way it would stay alive, infinitely enhancing new possible interpretations and unique insights. (Jewish Law as Rebellion by Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo, pg. 68)
Whatever was given, it is ours as individuals to interact with, struggle with and make our own. The idea that one text was given in order to facilitate discussion and not agreement is so beautiful and Jewish. It is all about the discussion.
Last week I shared a text from Peter Schotten, which describes the difference between religiosity and spirituality. He said spirituality “knows nothing about God and postulates nothing about ethical obligations.” Here is another definition of spirituality:
How does a spiritual journey begin? I believe that whenever we make a decision whose goal extends beyond pure self-interest, we may be said to act in a spiritual way. When we set on a course of action that is designed to benefit someone else or something other than oneself, we take a step on a spiritual path. (Rabbi Dr. Peter Rosenzweig, Introspection, Teshuva, Personality & Courage: A Map, pg.25)
One topic, two Jews. Oh, the possibilities.
Traditionally understood, religiosity is about belief and action, about faith in God, and about acting in accordance with God’s guidance of our fellow human beings. By contrast, spirituality is all about feeling. It knows nothing about God and postulates nothing about ethical obligations. The locus of the feeling can be located in the experiences and emotions of the affected person. God, if God matters at all, constitutes a mere afterthought. (Peter Schotten, Religious Belief, American Democracy, and our Inescapable Culture: Some preliminary Observations, Conversations, Autumn 2012)
Quite often I hear, “I am a spiritual person, but am not religious.” I have always felt this was a justification for someone not wanting to observe mitzvot, for someone trying to find a way of justifying why they won’t commit to a set of guidelines that is supposed to bring holiness into the world through a person’s behavior. Given the distinction posited above, it could be challenging to have one without the other.
What is the purpose of rebellion? Could rebellion be good? Rabbi Cardoza feels rebellion is essential to Judaism.
One of the great tasks of Jewish education is to deliberately create an atmosphere of rebellion among its students. Rebellion, after all, is the great emancipator. To paraphrase English writer Charles Caleb Colton (1780-1832): We owe almost all our knowledge and achievements not to those who agreed but to those who differed. It was this quality that brought Judaism into existence. Avraham was the first great rebel, destroying idols, and he was followed by his children, by Moshe, and by the Jewish people.
What has been entirely forgotten is that the Torah was the first rebellious text to appear in world history. Its purpose was to protest. It set in motion a rebellious movement of universal proportions second to none. The text includes all the heresies of the past, present and future. It calls idol worship an abomination, immorality a scandal, and the worship of man a catastrophe. It protests against complacency, imitation, and negation of the spirit. It calls for radical thinking and radical action, without compromise, even if it means standing alone and being condemned or ridiculed. (Needed Redemptive Halakha, by Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo, Journal of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals, “Conversations”, September 2015)
What an inspiring and powerful way to view Judaism and the Torah. The world is in need of Jewish rebels.
The human being’s quest for security will obstruct his search for meaning and purpose, while his lack of security will impel his moral powers to unfold. It is clearly this fact that underlies the ongoing repetition of the commandment to look after the stranger “because you were strangers in Egypt.” (Jewish Law as Rebellion by Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo, p. 45)
The terrorist attack last week will be forever imparted on who we are as Jews. We have been propelled into a situation we did not invite nor want. We are faced with what happens now. We need to figure out where we, as a community and as individual Jews, grow from here.
This has been a very difficult week for us as Jews and as Americans. The outpouring of support through the many vigils has been heartfelt. The real test of who we are will be seen in the coming weeks and months, as our lives return to “normal.” What we do now that the attack is longer a headline and part of the news cycle will be telling. I hope the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks inspire and hearten us to live in the most Godly and purposeful way.
Jewish faith is not about believing the world to be other than it is. It is not about ignoring the evil, the darkness and the pain. It is about courage, endurance and the capacity to hold fast to ideals even when they are ignored by others. It is the ability to see the world for what it is and yet still believe that it could be different. It is about not giving up, not letting go. Faith is what the Song of Songs calls “the love which is stronger than death.” (Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, A Letter in the Scroll, pg.191)
Religious Jews seem to know something that few people have understood. For them, freedom can be earned only by great discipline. One needs to conquer it and work hard to maintain it every moment of one’s life. Freedom is the will to be responsible. It is a mental state, not just a physical condition. Its primary requirement is to live for something that is worth dying for. A life without a mission is not worth being born into. It is only through dignity that one becomes free, and “the dignity of a person stands in proportion to his/her obligations.” (Heschel, God in Search of Man, 216) (Jewish Law as Rebellion by Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo, 327)
What is your definition of freedom? Many people see freedom as the ability to do what one wants Judaism has a different understanding. It sees freedom not as freedom from something or someone, but rather freedom to become what I as an individual and as part of a people can become. As Jews we were redeemed from Egypt so that we could become a holy nation, so we could become partners with God in bringing Godliness to the world.
More from Rabbi Cardozo on the role of religion:
Religion’s main task is to disturb. It should ensure, on a very pragmatic level, that we do not take anything for granted in our day-to-day lives. It is through challenges and complications that we are constantly surprised. These give birth to wonder, which then reminds us of God’s presence. It is not philosophical contemplation that brings man closer to God. God is not an intellectual issue, but the ultimate reality of life. Only in deed, in the down-to-earth and heart-rending existence of daily life, which asks for sweat and blood, does one escape superficiality and enter awareness and attentiveness. (Jewish Law as Rebellion by Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo, pg. 319)
Some people have trouble finding God. It turns out they are looking for God in words. As Jews we meet God in our deeds. We can find God wherever we choose to let God in. It is up to us, to go and do it.
Now that the Jewish holidays are over, we go back to our regular lives. How can we take what we were inundated with over the Jewish holiday period and integrate it into our everyday lives? In Jewish Law as Rebellion Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo writes:
Religion is a protest against taking life for granted. There are no insignificant phenomena or deeds in this world, and it is through Judaism’s demands and far-reaching interference in our daily life that we are made aware of God as our steadfast Companion. (320)
On Simchat Torah, we finished reading the Torah and then immediately began reading the Torah. What is it about this book that it plays such a prominent role in our lives? In Jewish Law as Rebellion, Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo writes:
I believe that the Torah is min haShamayim (of divine origin) and that its every word is holy. But I do not believe that the Torah is (always) historically true (sometimes it seems like divine fiction), or that it is uninfluenced by external sources. Nor do I believe that all its laws are morally acceptable. They are not.
What I believe is that the Torah is often morally, deeply, and deliberately “flawed,” and furthermore, that God Himself intentionally made it flawed…
Why would God make the Torah flawed? I believe this “flaw” is actually our end of the covenant. This is our opportunity to interact with the text and have the text interact with us. This is our opportunity to enable the text to come alive and breathe life into it, so it brings holiness to our lives and the lives of the people with whom we live. This “flaw” is God calling upon us to live up to our responsibility to be Godly in everything we do.
We hear so much about “going with the flow”, but what does this really do for us and our growth? In Crisis, Covenant and Creativity, Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo writes:
When I was growing up, people used to say that if you want to be creative all you have to do was “let go.” It was assumed that the way to unleash creativity was to shed all limitations and “go with the flow.” But reality proves otherwise. Letting go only makes us less focused and more confused. The range of options overwhelms us. The truth about creativity is just the opposite. It is born not out of the chaos of unconventionality, but rather from the devotion of discipline. True creativity is, as Abraham Joshua Heschel once said, “an emotion controlled by an idea.” It is the ultimate triumph of form over undeveloped matter. (28)
There is a lot of talk about tolerance and respect. Both are essential in creating community. What does tolerance mean with regard to holding onto our own convictions? In his book Crisis, Covenant and Creativity, Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo writes:
Let us be clear about one thing: apathy has nothing to do with tolerance. We cannot achieve tolerance by relinquishing our every conviction. Tolerance, rather, speaks of the case in which we have convictions, but nonetheless are able to tolerate those with conviction different from our own. In fact, the stronger our convictions, the more opportunity we have to be tolerant when faced by those with whom we disagree. But if we just don’t believe in anything, what is there to be tolerant about? (37-38)
This is where respect plays a major role. How we speak with and about people with whom we disagree speaks volumes about who we are and how we create community. We do not have to like everything or anything another community member says or believes, but we do need to try and understand it. There is a difference between liking something and understanding it. I believe a mensch is someone who disagrees with a person but can still see the legitimacy in a piece of their opinion or argument.
“Love your fellow man as yourself, I am the Almighty” (Leviticus 19:18). The Talmud (Shabbat 31a) relates that a non-Jew came to Hillel and said to him, “Convert me on condition that you will teach me the entire Torah while I stand on one foot.” Hillel accepted the condition and told him, “What you dislike, do not do to your friend. This is the entire Torah.” Since Hillel was referring to the commandment of love your neighbor, why didn’t he just mention the words in this verse?
Rabbi Yeruchem Levoitz explained that this is to teach us an important principle. From the words “love your fellow man” one might think that as long as one feels the emotion of love towards others, one fulfills the commandment. But the truth is that just feeling love alone is not sufficient. Rather this love must motivate us to do positive things for others and to refrain from any actions or words that could cause someone any pain or suffering. The Torah definitely requires us to feel deep love for others in our hearts. But even more than that, our behavior towards others must manifest this love. Therefore, Hillel explained to this man that a basic Torah principle is that the same commandment which requires us to have a profoundly positive feeling for others, also requires us to behave in an elevated manner in our daily encounters with them (Daat Torah: Vayikra, p. 175). Constantly be on the lookout for acts of kindness you can do for other people. When you look for them, you will constantly find things to do and words to say. Similarly, be very careful not to do anything that will harm others or cause them any pain or suffering. This is a lifelong challenge, and it is a cornerstone of the Torah.
Moses and Aaron are instructed regarding the diagnosis of tzaraat, which is usually translated as leprosy. It is an ailment, which has the ability of affecting human skin, clothing. If infected, the human being or garment is declared ritually impure. Rashes, patches and discolorations of the affected individual or object are examined by a priest who determines the existence of the affliction.
God instructs Moshe in the purification process for a leper who has been declared clean. Two clean birds are to be brought to the priest. One is sacrificed, and the other bird is set free. After a week, the person to be purified shave all of their hair and immerse in water. They then bring a guilt offering and a sin offering.
Rashi offers a rationale for the two birds. Since tzaraat comes in retribution for lashon hara, which is, in effect, babbling words, the Torah requires for the metzora’s purification birds which babble and twitter continually. But why two birds? Wouldn’t one have served the purpose? And why was one bird slaughtered and the other kept alive to be sent away “towards the fields”? The power of speech is a double-edged sword.
When used properly it is a beneficial instrument for studying, teaching and creating community and meaning. Used improperly, in the form of slander and lying, speech can be deadly. Our Sages explain that the sacrifices are designed to make the donor mindful of the fact that the sacrificed animal is taking his place, in reality he deserved to suffer the fate of the sacrifice. Had there been only the slaughtered bird, the metzora would then have inferred that all forms of speech are evil and deadly. He may not have uttered another word for the rest of his life. The live bird that is sent away toward the fields shows him that the power of speech can be a source of life and strength. Indeed, the pair of birds epitomizes the saying that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Mishlei 18:21). (Shlomo Ganzfried, author of the Kitzur Shulchan Aruch)
Parashat Shemini begins on the last day of the ordination ceremony of Aaron and his sons as priests. Aaron’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, offer an alien fire to God . A fire comes from God, and both sons die immediately. Moses tells Aaron that the deaths of Nadav and Avihu demonstrate the responsibility of priests to do only what God has specifically commanded them. Moses calls on Aaron’s nephews to remove the bodies, and cautions relatives and the rest of the congregation not to mourn the deaths.
God commands Aaron and his sons not to drink intoxicants when they enter the Tent of Meeting, for them to be able to carry out their duties. God speaks to Moses and Aaron regarding the laws of kashrut. They are told that the Israelites are permitted to eat any mammal which has both a split hooves and chews its cud. The Israelites are permitted to eat any fish which has both fins and scales. A list of forbidden birds is given. Four-legged insects are forbidden unless they have a pair of jointed legs with which they can leap. The parasha ends with an affirmation of the special relationship between God and the people of Israel.
Some commentators explain that out of their joy of serving God, Nadav and Avihu brought an additional sacrifice. If this were so, death seems an extreme, and even unjust, punishment. Hertz explains that they were punished according to their elevated status and that this was a warning to future priestly generations not to innovate their own sacrifices.
The Background to the Passover Holiday from Teaching Jewish Holidays:
Leviticus 23:5-8 contains the biblical injunctions to celebrate the festival of Pesach: “in the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month, as twilight, there shall be a passover offering to the Lord, and on the fifteenth day of the month is the Lord’s Feast of Unleavened Bread. You shall eat unleavened for seven days. The first day shall be for you a sacred occasion: you shall not work at your occupations. Seven days you shall make offerings by fire to Adonai. The seventh day shall be a sacred occasion: you shall not work at your occupations.”
Efforts to probe the origins of the Jewish holidays are in no way intended to denigrate the importance or the meaning of the festivals. Rather, they help to demonstrate the genius of the Jewish people who drew from their environment, transforming what might have begun as a pagan idea or practice into something with universal and timeless significance.
According to such scholars as Hayyim Schauss and Theodor Gaster, the modern festival of Pesach is a combination of a shepherd’s festival and an agricultural festival. Leviticus 23 reinforces this idea.
It is possible that a Pesach festival had its earliest stirrings among semi-nomads who thousands of years ago wandered the desert and the semi-arid environs around Palestine. Nisan was the month when sheep most often gave birth. These nomads came to observe a festival at the time of the full moon. Just before nightfall, a sheep or goat was sacrificed. The animal was then roasted, and the family ate a hasty meal so that all of the animal would be eaten before daybreak. No bones of this sacrificial animal could be broken. Tent posts were daubed with the blood of the slain animal as an antidote to plagues, misfortune, and illness.
Perhaps the Feast of Unleavened Bread was a six or seven day festival marking the beginning of the spring harvest and the offering of the first sheaf of the newly cut barley to the priest as a sacrifice to God. The elimination of chametz may have originally been precautionary so as not to infect the new incoming crop. Or, it may have been a way of propitiating the priests and God so as to assume health and bounty.
As Judaism moved away from being agriculturally based, new interpretations and new customs were added to the Pesach ritual so that Jews living all over the world and in all ages could meaningfully celebrate Pesach. The prototype Haggadah finds its way into the Mishnah as Tractate Pesachim. By the end of the Talmudic period, its form and much of its content were as they are today. It must have been widely accepted, because the Haggadah was included in the very first prayer book of Rav Amram in the eighth century, as well as in the prayer book of Saadia Gaon in Babylonia (tenth century). Somewhere around the twelfth century, it began to be copied as a separate book. It attracted many commentaries, and became the favorite subject of Jewish artists who found the subject liberating.
Parashat Tzav begins by repeating the procedure for the sacrifices discussed in last week’s Parasha. This time the Torah directs its words to Aaron and his sons, giving details regarding the portions of the sacrifices they receive.
God commands Moses to prepare Aaron, his sons, and the Tabernacle for the priesthood. This includes washing Aaron and his sons, dressing them in their ritual garments, and anointing both Aaron and the Tabernacle with oil. Moses explains that this ceremony will last seven days, and all that has been done and sacrificed that day has to be repeated on each of the following days.
The book Teaching Torah gives a beautiful insight into the role of the priests and the priestly offering. The priests, especially the High Priest, were role models for the Israelites. The High Priest had to be sinless in order to carry out his duties. But, since no individual is sinless, the High Priest brought a daily sacrifice atoning for any sins he may have committed.
So what do we learn from this? If the High Priest can bring a sacrifice, admitting that he needed to repent for any sins and asking for forgiveness, his action may motivate others to do so as well. The High Priest brought and offered his sacrifices publicly, without feeling ashamed. This was a message to the Israelites that they also should bringing sacrifices of atonement and not feel ashamed for their need for repentance.
Judaism is not a religion which demands perfection. Its creators knew that human beings were not perfect people and could never be perfect people. Therefore, it sets up rituals and prayers that respond to the realistic nature, both positive and negative, of daily human life.
Judaism is a religion that demands continuous growth and development of the human being. The observances of Mitzvot are the vehicle through which we as Jews develop and grow intellectually, spiritually, and ritually. Whether it is lighting Shabbat candles, giving Tzedakah, or observing Kashrut, all are important and all should be viewed as the stepping stone to the next level of knowledge and observance.
With this week’s Torah portion, we begin reading the book of Leviticus. Parashat VaYikra opens with God instructing Moses to describe the five types of sacrifices to the Israelites. They were: a burnt offering (olah); the meal offering (minchah); the sacrifice of wellbeing (zevach shelamim); the sin offering (chatat); and the guilt offering (asham).
While the first three types of sacrifices were voluntary and not brought for atonement, the last two sacrifices, the chatat and the asham were both obligatory for guilty parties. The offering to be brought was determined by the economic status of the person who committed the transgression. The penalty for robbery was also to restore the stolen item, plus an additional one-fifth of its value.
The bringing of sacrifices did not, in and of itself, appease God for one’s wrongdoing; rather it served merely as a symbol and expression of one’s desire to repent and, in that, to change one’s behavior. The essential element in repentance is the attitude of the individual. With the destruction of the Temple, the sacrifices were discontinued. The Sages then prescribed other practices to substitute for the sacrifices. The most important were prayer, Torah study, and tzedakah. Just as prayer, study, and tzedakah require whole-hearted commitment and discipline, so repentance requires a whole-hearted commitment to change one’s ways.
In this week’s Torah portion, Moses assembles the Israelites and reminds them of the commandment to observe Shabbat as a day of rest. He also instructs them not to kindle light on Shabbat. Moses then reviews God’s instructions concerning the building of the Tabernacle and calls upon the people to bring gifts to be used in its construction. When Moses sees that the work is complete, he blesses the people of Israel. Then God tells Moses to erect the Tabernacle on the first day of the first month and to place in it all of its specially crafted furnishings. Moses then anoints Aaron and his four sons to be priests as God commanded him.
When Moses has finished the work, the cloud of God covers the Tabernacle and the presence of God fills it. When the cloud is lifted from the Tabernacle, it is a signal to the Israelites to break camp and begin travel. Throughout the journeys of the Israelites, a cloud of the Lord is present by day and a fire by night.
The placement of the prohibition of work on Shabbat immediately before the description of the building of the Tabernacle led the Rabbis to understand “work” – “milacha” to mean any activity that was needed for the construction of the Tabernacle. The Mishnah (Shabbat 7:2) lists thirty-nine main categories of work – “avot” and there are many other kinds of work which are outgrowths of these main thirty-nine that are also forbidden. These latter are called toledot – offspring. For example: sowing is in the avot category, therefore, watering plants is considered in the toledot class.
Classical Judaism teaches not only belief in a supernatural being, but also in a belief that that being takes an interest in the affairs of the world. The God of Israel redeemed the Israelites from Egypt, revealed Godself on Mount Sinai, performed miracles for them and established a covenant with them. According to the Torah, God is interested and is involved in the affairs of humankind. Does this involvement extend to individuals or to just to a collective people? Is there a correlation between God providence and our behavior? If there is a correlation, what is the nature of that correlation?
Many Biblical texts portray a correlation between the Israelites following the Torah and its commandments and God’s involvement in their lives. If the Israelites follow the Torah and the commandments, then all will go well. If not, they will be punished. There are then other texts which are baffled by what appears in this world to be grave injustice. People who behave inappropriately and are violent, who have no interest in God or in following God’s commandments, seem to prosper. In other words, there seems to be an inconsistency between the idea of if you follow God’s word then good will follow and if you do not, then punishment will follow.
Maimonides, in his Guide to the Perplexed states: “Divine Providence is connected with Divine intellectual influence, and the same beings which are benefited by the latter so as to become intellectual, and to comprehend things comprehensible to rational beings, are also under the control of Divine Providence, which examines all their deeds in order to reward or punish them… the method of which our mind is incapable of understanding.”
Maimonides believes that everything that happens to us is decided by and is the workings of God. Sometimes the why and how we get rewarded and punished is beyond our understanding. This answer works for some and not others, which is true with many concepts in Judaism. I am not sure if the important question is why do bad things happen or who is responsible for them, but rather, how do we respond to the good and bad things that happen. One cannot know for certain why something good or bad happened to them, nor can they always be in control of these happenings, but we can have more input into how we respond to them.
In this portion, Moses is further told to instruct the Israelites to bring olive oil for lighting the lamps of the Tabernacle. The lamps, which are to be the responsibility of the priests (Aaron and his sons), are to burn from evening to morning for all time. Moses is told to ordain Aaron and his sons as priests.
Tetzaveh begins with the commandment to the Israelites to kindle the Tabernacle lights regularly. The Hebrew phrase ner tamid used in this instruction has been transposed over time to refer not to an act to be performed perpetually, but to an object to be perpetually present. Thus, the eternal light in our synagogues is there to maintain some sense of the original command found here regarding the light in the Tabernacle. This command was later observed in the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem.
In this Torah portion, God instructs Moses to accept gifts from the Israelites, which are to be used in constructing the tabernacle. Acceptable gifts include precious metals and stones, tanned skins, blue, purple, and crimson yarns and linen, and special oils and spices.
God tells Moses the blueprints according to which the Tabernacle and its contents are to be built. The first object to be constructed is the Ark, which should be built of acacia wood, overlaid both inside and out with gold. The tablets of the Law (which God will give Moses) are to be kept in the Ark. Two gold cherubim (winged angelic beings described in biblical tradition as attending on God)are to be placed facing each other over the cover of the Ark. The Ark is to be housed in the innermost chamber of the Tabernacle, called the Holy of Holies.
There is a prohibition to remove the poles of the Ark. The commentator Kli Yakar regards the permanent attachment of the poles to the Ark as symbolic of the unbreakable links between Israel and Torah. Rabbi Hirsch regards the prohibition to remove the poles as symbolic of the mobility of the Torah. He states: “The poles of the Ark symbolize, the mission of the Ark and what it housed – to be carried beyond its place to wherever circumstances demanded.” The commandment: “the poles shall not be removed” embodied the eternal message that the Torah is not restricted to the particular country where the Temple is situated.
The combination of the Kli Yakar’s idea that there must be a eternal connection between the people of Israel and Torah, and Rabbi Hirsch’s idea that the Torah is independent of place is only one more vehicle for reinforcing the importance of, and ability to make Torah a daily part of our lives.
This week’s parasha opens with the people of Israel gathered around Mount Sinai. Moses presents a large number of God’s rules to them; hence the name of this parasha – mishpatim (rules). The slavery of the Israelites in Egypt is recalled by Moses to remind the people not to treat strangers, widows and orphans unfairly. Moses repeats all of the rules to the people and then writes them down. Offerings are made to seal the covenant with God and the people accept the law saying, “All the things God has commanded we will do.”
When the Israelites are gathered around the mountain God begin by telling Moses: “And these are the ordinances that you shall place before them”. What do the words “that you shall place before them” mean? Rashi states that Moses was commanded to teach not only the rules, but their underlying principles and reasoning, so that the people would understand them fully and be able to apply them properly. The rules must be “placed before them”, in their fullness, like a table that is set and ready for a meal.
From this we learn how we are obligated to teach others. It is not sufficient to merely repeat a lesson two or three times. Rather, a teacher must relate the ideas to the student with their complete explanation, so that a student will not only know the information, but that they will take it to heart as well.
Yitro, Moses’ father-in-law brings Moses’ wife and two children to Moses, who is in the desert. After observing how Moses settles disputes among the Israelites, he advises Moses to choose judges and delegate the easier cases to them. Moses follows Yitro’s advice and Yitro returns to his own land.
“And Yitro, the priest of Midian, the father-in-law of Moses, heard all that God did for Moses and for Israel His people.” (Exodus 18:1) Rashi cites the Talmud (Zevachim 116a): What did Yitro hear to make him come and join the Jewish People? The miracle of the crossing of the Red Sea and the war with Amalek. What was unique about what Yitro heard, didn’t all the other surrounding nations hear about these occurrences as well? The answer is that the others heard and they remained the same. Yitro, however, didn’t merely hear, he took action. Others were moved and inspired for a few moments but stayed where they were. Yitro picked himself up and changed his life. (Ohr Yohail, vol.2 Vayakhail, p. 139)
Everyone has moments of inspiration. The difference between a great person and an ordinary person is that the great person acts upon his/her inspirations. When you obtain an important awareness, let it move you to actual changes in your life.
During their travels in the wilderness, the Israelites complain about the lack of water and food. When the Israelites reach Marah, known for its bitter waters, God instructs Moses to throw a piece of wood into the water, and the water becomes sweet and suitable for drinking. Shortly after this, God addresses the peoples’ complaints regarding their lack of food, by providing the Israelites with quail in the evening and manna in the morning. On Friday, the Israelites are instructed to gather a double portion of manna, the first one for Friday and the second for Shabbat.
“And the children of Israel came to Marah. And they were not able to drink the water at Marah for they were bitter” (Ex. 15:23). The Kotzker Rebbe explained the words “for they were bitter” as referring to the people themselves, not the water. When someone is bitter himself, everything tastes bitter. This concept holds true in many areas on life. If a person feels bitter, nothing in life appears positive. Anyone looking for faults and defects will always be able to find them. A bitter person makes himself miserable and those in his environment suffer with him. While he thinks that he has valid reasons for considering things to be bitter, the source of the problem is not out there but within himself. By sweetening one’s own outlook one will live in a much sweeter world.
This week’s parasha is the first to contain a comprehensive list of mitzvot. The previous parshiyot, portions, have been mainly narrative, with an occasional mitzvah or moral lesson woven into the fabric of the story. In her book Studies in the Book of Exodus, Nechama Leibowitz asks why is the Jewish way of life made up of so many positive and negative mitzvot? To answer the question Nechama Leibowitz quotes the author of Sefer HaHinuch, a book that lists the six hundred and thirteen mitzvot in order of their occurrence in the Torah. “…Know that man is influenced by his actions and his intellectual and emotional life is conditioned by the things he does, good or bad.” According to the author of Sefer HaHinuch, it is actions that shape character. Mitzvot are designed for every age group, every point in life, at all times and all places. The spiritual impact of mitzvot was meant to be irresistible and all encompassing, constantly enabling us to do good and therefore be good. We just have to open ourselves up and allow mitzvot to be a part of our daily lives.
In this week’s parasha we read: God spoke to Moses and said to him: “I am the Lord. I appeared to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as El Shaddai, but (by) My name the Lord was I not known to them.” This passage has puzzled many commentators as it claims that this is the first time this name of God is used, when in fact it was used on two previous occasions (the first when God appeared to Abraham, and the second when Jacob was about to leave the Holy Land).
How could it be maintained that God had not appeared to the Patriarchs by this name? Rashi and Rambam (both Biblical commentators) say that this passage does not imply that God had not been revealed before to the Patriarchs by this name, but rather this particular aspect of God was being revealed for the first time, and that this particular attribute of God had not been evident until then.
Rashi says that the aspect of God revealed to us is that of a promise-keeper, while Rambam states that the attribute of God revealed to us is God working through open miracles rather than through ordinary events. What is important to note here is the recognition that we perceive God through God’s manifestations in the world, through God’s deeds. We have new opportunities to see different aspects and attributes of God each and every day. We just have to permit ourselves to see them.
The Book of Exodus begins by recounting that the descendants of Jacob flourished and multiplied in Egypt. A new Pharaoh arises who did not know Joseph and perceives the numerous Israelites as a potential threat. The Egyptians enslave the Israelites, and make life miserable for them.
A couple from the house of Levi bears a son and hides him for three months. When the infant can no longer be hidden, his sister, Miriam, sets him afloat in the Nile River. Pharaoh’s daughter finds the infant, rescues him, and names him Moses. When Moses is grown, he kills an Egyptian taskmaster who was beating a Hebrew slave. Due to this incident, he is forced to flee Egypt and ends up in Midian. There he becomes a shepherd, a husband and a father.
One day, while Moses is tending his sheep, God appears to him in a burning bush. God instructs Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt and into the land of Canaan. Moses gives God a number of reasons why he should not be the one to redeem the Israelites, and God answers all of Moses’ objections. Moses finally pleads with God to choose someone else. It is at this point that God is angered.
One of the reasons Moses gives God for why he is inadequate for redeeming the Israelites from Egypt is, he is “slow of speech”. Rabbi Shlomo Riskin uses Moses’ reason that he is “slow of speech”, as a vehicle for examining the question where does God’s influence end and human activity begin.
Moses appears to be telling God that a man who cannot speak eloquently cannot possibly hope to convince the Egyptians to free the Israelites. God responds “Who has made man’s mouth, or who makes man dumb, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is not the Lord?” Basically, if God can create the vehicle, God can certainly create the necessary accessories.
God’s response does not sit well with Moses and he pleads with God “send I pray you, by the hand of whomever you will send (but not by me).” Moses is so convinced of God’s powers that he comes to the conclusion that it does not matter who God sends, because God can put the right words into anyone’s mouth. Just let it be someone else. The instrument is not important as long as God is with that person.
Rabbi Riskin writes that it is precisely this attitude that angers God. Moses has all the faith in the world, maybe too much faith. Just because God is in ultimate control of speech is not reason enough to justify removing all responsibility from human actors in the drama of the Jewish people.
God will certainly help, but God does not choose to act alone. It is true that we thank God for God’s help, but ultimately it is human beings who must speak the message and do the actions.
Jacob lives for 17 years in Egypt before feeling that his death is imminent. He makes Joseph swear that Joseph will bury him in Canaan. Prior to his death, Jacob adopts and blesses Joseph’s sons, Manasseh and Ephraim. In the blessing, he elevates the younger Ephraim over Manasseh explaining to Joseph that Ephraim would father a larger people than Manasseh.
On his deathbed, Jacob summons his sons, and describes the character and tells the future of each one. Jacob tells his sons to bury him in the Cave of Machpelah, where his ancestors are buried.
Following his death, Jacob is embalmed. A great Egyptian procession accompanies Joseph and his brothers to Canaan. When they reach Goren ha-Atad, a seven day mourning period is observed. Joseph and his brothers return to Egypt after the burial. The brothers are concerned, that with the death of their father, Joseph will seek revenge for having sold him. But he tells them he will not seek revenge, as it was God’s plan that he come to Egypt.
The book of Genesis closes with Joseph’s death at 110 years. On his deathbed, he speaks to his brothers, requesting that his bones be taken back to the land of Israel.
In his deathbed blessing, Jacob does not leave material objects to his sons. Rather, he does a character analysis and gives a future picture of the tribes. In some ways, this may be a form of an ethical will. Ethical wills are a well-established part of Jewish ethical literature. Short and practical, such wills usually took the form of a great teacher’s deathbed advice to their students. However, ethical wills also exist in which parents leave moral instructions for their children.
Ethical wills are very important to leave for children, but what makes a greater impact is how we live our lives while we are living. “Do as I do” should be our motto, and we need to conduct ourselves with this motto in mind.
Jacob is told that Joseph is alive and is taken to see him in Egypt. God calls to Jacob one night during the journey and tells Jacob that he will prosper in Egypt and that Joseph will be present at Jacob’s deathbed.
Jacob and Joseph have a tearful reunion. The family continues to work as shepherds in Egypt in the region of Goshen. The famine continues in Egypt and Joseph sells grain to the people. Eventually, the people sell all they own to Pharaoh in order to purchase grain. By the end of the famine, Pharaoh owns all of the land in Egypt save the land of the priests. At the end of the famine, Joseph gives seeds to the people and directs then to repay Pharaoh with one-fifth of their harvest.
Joseph chooses to settle his family in Goshen, an area in northeastern Egypt (see Jewish History Atlas by Gilbert, p. 2). The Egyptians worshipped sheep and thus had an aversion to shepherds. Joseph was therefore able to justify the need for physical distance between his family and the Egyptian population centers. The Netziv explained Joseph’s motive differently. Joseph did not want the household of Jacob assimilating into Egyptian culture. He wanted to preserve them as a group so they could become a nation. Although the details are a bit different today, the issue of how to preserve the Jewish nation has been ongoing since Biblical times.
One night Pharaoh dreams two dreams which no one in his court can interpret. The cupbearer remembers Joseph and brings him to Pharaoh. Joseph tells Pharaoh that both dreams relay the same message. There will be seven years of plenty and seven years of famine. Joseph does not stop there. He offers Pharaoh a plan for how to avoid disaster during the years of famine. Pharaoh is impressed by Joseph and appoints him head of food collection and distribution.
During the years of famine Jacob sends his sons, except for Benjamin, down to Egypt to buy grain. The brothers appear before Joseph and he recognizes them. Hiding his identity, Joseph accuses the brothers of being spies and decides to test them. Joseph challenges the brothers to return with their youngest brother Benjamin.
The brothers return with Benjamin, and Joseph continues his test. After filling their order of grain, Joseph has his goblet placed in Benjamin’s bag. Joseph then sends his men after his brothers and accuses them of theft. When the goblet is found in Benjamin’s bag, Joseph declares that Benjamin must remain in Egypt as his slave, and that the other brothers are free to go.
How could Pharaoh have trusted Joseph to such a degree that he appointed him to be the main administrator of the plans to save Egypt from the shortages of the forthcoming famine? True, Joseph was understanding and wise, but how could Pharaoh trust someone who was just released from prison and was previously a slave?
Rabbi Chayim Shmuelevitz, replied that Pharaoh saw Joseph’s extreme honesty in something he said before he related the interpretation of the dream. Joseph began by saying to Pharaoh that he had no power to interpret dreams on his own. It was entirely a gift from God. Joseph did not want to take credit, even for a moment. This total honesty in one minor point showed that Joseph could be completely trusted. It is incredible to think about how many times “little” things go a long way toward establishing our credibility and have a big impact or make an impression on who we are and how we are perceived.
Throughout the next four Torah portions we read about Joseph and his life. Joseph was Jacob’s favorite son; the other brothers felt this favoritism and they were jealous. Joseph dreams two dreams which foreshadow his supremacy over his family. He relates these dreams to the family, which does little to help the already strained relations between Joseph and his brothers.
Jacob and his sons were shepherds. Jacob sends Joseph to check on his brothers and their sheep. Upon seeing Joseph, the brothers plot to kill him. Reuben convinces the brothers not to kill Joseph, but rather to throw him into a pit, from which Reuben plans to later rescue him. Plans have a way of changing, and without Reuben’s knowledge, the brothers decide to sell Joseph to some merchants. Before Joseph is sold, the brothers take his famous coat of many colors. The coat is then dipped in goat’s blood and presented to Jacob as proof of Joseph’s having been killed by a wild animal. The merchants sell Joseph to Potiphar, who is an Egyptian noble.
Potiphar entrusts Joseph with the entire house. Life looks good for Joseph until Potiphar’s wife who could not get Joseph to succumb to her, accuses him of rape. Joseph is jailed, and there he meets Pharaoh’s cupbearer and baker. While in prison, they both have dreams, which Joseph interprets. Joseph correctly foretells that the cupbearer will return to his service in the palace, and the baker will be put to death. Joseph asks the cupbearer to remember him, but he is forgotten.
“And Joseph was brought down to Egypt (39:10).” Anyone viewing the scene of Joseph being brought down to Egypt as a slave would have considered it a major tragedy. His brothers sold him into slavery and he was being taken far away from his father and his homeland. But the reality was that this was the first step toward his being appointed the second in command of Egypt. He would eventually be in charge of the national economy of Egypt and would be the mastermind behind the complex program to prepare for the years of famine during the years of plenty.
Later on, when Jacob went down to Egypt, anyone viewing the scene would have considered it a very positive one. Jacob was going to be reunited with his favorite son after so many years of separation. His son was a powerful leader and he would be treated with the honors of royalty. But what was the total picture. This was the first step in the exile of the Children of Israel. Their enslavement in Egypt was beginning at this very moment, although the entire process would take some time until it was finally felt.
No human being has the ability to know what the final consequences of any situation will actually be. Therefore, when a situation seems to be extremely negative, do not despair. This could lead to wonderful things for you. Conversely, when things seem to be going extremely well, do not become complacent or arrogant. One can never tell what the future has in store.
On his journey back to Canaan, Jacob passes through the territory controlled by Esau. Jacob seeks reconciliation with his brother, and sends gifts ahead, hoping to fend off a hostile confrontation. Jacob divides his family into two camps and sends them over the river to safety. Jacob spends the night on the other side of the river – alone.
During the night, a “man” comes to Jacob and wrestles with him until dawn. When the “man” realizes that he will not prevail, he wrenches Jacob’s thigh, but Jacob will not release him. Jacob demands a blessing from the “man.” The “man” gives Jacob a new name – Israel, which means, “one who struggles with God.”
Although the text states that Jacob wrestled with a man that night, all the commentators agree that it was no ordinary human being. Rambam and Ramban differ as to the exact nature of the struggle. Was it an actual event in the real world sense, or was it an internal struggle? Of more importance, what did the struggle accomplish?
The event tested and changed Jacob. It tested his strength; he prevailed, showing the strength that would be required for future events (The Anchor Bible by Speiser, p. 257). Through this event, we learn what it takes to remake one’s own character – the ability to hold on. Jacob refuses to let go and he wrestles the stranger throughout the night. Only in the morning does Jacob agree to let go, and then only after receiving a new name, a renewed identity.
The struggle of Jacob and the mysterious man leaves its mark on Jacob, who limps away with a wounded thigh. Our struggles in life, with others and with ourselves, leave scars. But they also produce growth and change. Jacob is no longer the wily, shrewd person he once was. Instead, through the process of introspection, remorse, and a commitment to confront his own failings, Jacob is able to remake himself.
While fleeing to Haran, Jacob rests one night. In a dream, Jacob sees angels ascending and descending a ladder. God comes to Jacob and repeats the same blessing given to Abraham and Isaac, and promises to protect and return him to Canaan. Jacob vows that God will be his God if God fulfills the promises.
In Genesis 28:12 we read, “And Jacob had a dream and in his dream there was a ladder standing on the ground and its top reached the heavens”. The Chofetz Chaim cited the idea expressed by many commentators that the ladder Jacob saw in his dream symbolizes the situation of every person in this world. There are two actions a person performs on a ladder. Either he goes up from the bottom to the top, or he goes down from the top to the bottom. Each day in a person’s life he faces new challenges. If he has the willpower and self-discipline to overcome those challenges, he goes up in his spiritual level. If, however, a person fails to exercise the necessary self-control, he lowers himself. This is our daily task, to climb higher each day.
There is no standing in one place. When challenges arise, you will either behave in an elevated manner and grow from the experience or you will fail. Learn to appreciate the daily challenges that face you. Every difficulty is a means of elevating yourself. Every time you overcome a negative impulse you grow as a person. When a person climbs a ladder, he feels his progress with each step. So too with your daily victories over your negative impulses – feel your progress and you will have the motivation to continue climbing.
Rebecca is barren, so Isaac prays to God on her behalf. God responds to Isaac’s prayers and Rebecca conceives twins. The twins struggle with each other within the womb, and this struggle will continue once they are born. The firstborn Esau, is red and hairy. He is a hunter and is favored by Isaac. The younger son, Jacob, is a quiet individual whom Rebecca favors.
One day, while Jacob is cooking stew Esau comes in starving and demands some. As payment, Jacob insists that Esau sell him his birthright. Esau agrees to the stated price and has some dinner.
Esau takes two wives from among the Hittites. Isaac and Rebecca are not happy with this. Isaac grows old, and the time for blessing his sons is near. Isaac instructs Esau to hunt and prepare a meal for him after which Isaac will bless him. Rebecca overhears the conversation, and recalls God having told her that her older son would serve her younger son (Genesis 25:23). She needed to take action, so Rebecca convinces Jacob to deceive his father. With Rebecca’s help, Jacob does so and receives Esau’s blessing for himself. Rebecca, fearing that Esau will take revenge against Jacob, tells Jacob to flee to Haran, to her brother Laban. In order to have Isaac approve of Jacob’s journey, Rebecca convinces Isaac that Jacob should be sent to Laban to find a bride from among her family.
In Genesis 25:20 we read: “And Isaac was forty years old when he took Rebecca, the daughter of Betual the Aromite, from Padan Arom, the sister of Laban the Aromite, for himself for a wife.” Rashi raises the question that the information in this verse about Rebecca’s background seems superfluous. The Torah had already stated that Rebecca was the daughter of Betual, the sister of Lavan, and was from Padam Aram. The answer, says Rashi, is that this restatement is in praise of Rebecca. She was the daughter of an evil person, the sister of an evil person and lived in a community of evil people. Nevertheless, she did not learn from their evil behavior.
Many people try to excuse their faults by blaming others as the cause of their behavior. “It’s not my fault I have this bad trait, I learned it from my mother and father.” “I’m not to blame for this bad habit since all my brothers and sisters do it also.” We see from Rebecca that regardless of the faulty behavior of those in our surroundings, we have the ability to be more elevated. Of course, it takes courage and a lot of effort to be different. The righteous person might be considered a nonconformist and even rebellious by those in his environment whose standard of values are below their level. But a basic Torah principle is that we are responsible for our own actions. Pointing to others in your environment who are worse than us is not a valid justification for not behaving properly.
If you ever find yourself saying, “It’s not my fault I did this. It’s because of the way I was raised,” change your focus to “I’ll make a special effort to improve in this area to overcome the tendency to follow in the footsteps of others.” Blaming others for your faults and saying that you cannot do anything to change them will be a guarantee that they will remain with you.
I will address the complicated issue of Rebecca and Jacob “stealing” Esau’s firstborn blessing at another time. It, like life, is more complicated than it looks.
This week’s Parasha, opens with the death of Sarah. Sarah lived 127 years, and was buried in the Cave of Machpelah, which Abraham bought from the Hittites. Abraham decides that a wife should be found for his son Isaac, and directs his servant Eliezer to search for this wife. Abraham cautions Eliezer not to take a Canaanite woman for Isaac, so Eliezer travels to Abraham’s birthplace.
Upon his arrival, Rebecca, Abraham’s niece, comes to the well at which Eliezer and his entourage is resting. Through her words and actions, her kindness and generosity, Eliezer knows that she is “the one” for Isaac. Eliezer is welcomed into Rebecca’s father’s house, and it is agreed that Rebecca will go to Canaan to become Isaac’s wife. Isaac was meditating in the field when he first saw Rebecca.
Our rabbis tell us that Isaac was not merely meditating and communing with nature, but was engaging in prayer, for he had instituted that tradition of the Minchah afternoon prayer service (Talmud Brachot 25a). The afternoon prayer service is the shortest of the three daily prayer services. Often popularly called “that pause that refreshes,” it is a service during the middle of the day that affords the worshipper an additional opportunity to cultivate genuine appreciation of the true blessings of life.
Prayer is an opportunity for us to connect with God. In order to connect, I have to open myself up. This is also true in terms of interpersonal relationships. In order for me to connect with another person, I have to open myself up to them, be open to their world and how they see it.
Our relationship with God shapes our relationship with other human beings. A genuine conversation between two people is like prayer. In prayer, I am looking for the presence of God. I am listening and speaking, opening myself up to something other than what I am seeing, to something bigger than myself, to becoming something bigger than myself. The same can be said in terms of a conversation between two people. How appropriate that Isaac was seen praying when he first met Rebecca, the woman with whom he would share his life and become bigger than who he was on his own.
As this week’s Torah portion begins, God appears to Abraham as he is sitting in his tent doorway. During the visit from God, Abraham looks up and sees three visitors approaching him. He welcomes them with a great show of hospitality. According to tradition, the visitors are the angels, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. In the middle of their stay, one of the angels predicts that Sarah will finally give birth to a son, whom they will name Isaac.
After the visitors leave, God informs Abraham that the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah will be destroyed. A discussion ensues in which Abraham bargains for the citizens of these cities.
God tests Abraham and commands him to offer his son Isaac as a sacrifice. Abraham obeys, and as he is about to lower the knife to slay his son, an angel calls out to stop him. Due to Abraham’s obedience God repeats his promise to make him a great nation.
Abraham is tested by God, being asked to sacrifice his beloved son Isaac. The Torah does not state precisely why God is testing Abraham. Is it to test Abraham’s faith that God will not go back on God’s promise? Or is it to test Abraham’s unquestioning obedience to the divine will, his faithfulness rather than his faith?
Maimonides writes that God tested Abraham precisely because God knew that he would pass the test. Abraham’s faith would therefore become a beacon to the nations. The philosopher Franz Rosenzweig sees in the test a temptation by God. According to his view, God purposely conceals God’s true purpose, giving Abraham an opportunity to ground his faith in trust and freedom. Others say that the test was for Isaac, to see if he has faith and faithfulness as well as the extent of his ability to be the next leader. Yet others say that Abraham actually failed the test and that is why neither God and Abraham and Abraham nor Isaac ever speak again.
In the Torah portion of Lech Lecha, God tells Abram to leave his home and go to a land, which God will show him. God promises Abram that a special land will be set aside for him and his descendants, and that Abram will be the father of a great nation. When blessing Abram, God states: “And I will bless those that bless you, and those that curse you I will curse!”
The two parts of this verse present a contrast. In the first part, the predicate is followed by the object, whereas in the second part the object precedes the predicate. The commentator, the Kli Yakar, noting this contrast, offers an illuminating insight. Good intentions, though not yet carried out, are rewarded by God as accomplished deeds. Evil intentions, on the other hand, are punishable only when they have been put into effect.
Therefore, the Torah states, “I will bless them” at the beginning of the verse in order to indicate that they will be blessed from the moment they intend to bless you; even though they have not actually done so yet. The opposite is true of “those that curse you.” Here bad intentions do not count as deeds. Therefore, “I will curse” follows “and those that curse you.”
This idea of rewarding for a thought and not punishing until the act takes place is a great motivator for us to not only be the best we can, but it is also a beautiful reminder for us to give others with whom we interact the same opportunity to be the best they can be as well as the benefit of the doubt.
Parashat Noach (Gen. 6:9-11:32)
This week’s parasha is Noah and describes the widely known story of the ark, the flood and those who were saved. The parasha describes Noah as “a righteous man; he was blameless in his age; Noah walked with God” (Genesis 6:9). The rest of humanity was known to be corrupt and evil. God is distraught over the decision to create human beings and decides to start anew.
God commands Noah to build an ark and to bring seven pairs of all of the clean animals and one pair of all of the unclean animals found on earth. God also commands Noah to bring along his wife, his three sons (Shem, Ham and Japheth), and their wives. Noah follows God’s command without hesitation.
God could have saved Noah in many ways. Why did God burden Noah with the construction of an ark? Rashi states that the construction of the ark was designed to arouse curiosity among the people. Upon seeing the ark in its various stages of construction, the people would be prompted to ask Noah, “Why are you building an ark?” to which Noah would reply, “Due to the corrupt manner in which people relate to each other, God has chosen to destroy the earth, with a flood,” – providing the people with an opportunity to repent.
I think we can look at the length of time it took to build the ark not as an opportunity for the people walking by the ark to ask about it and repent, but rather as an opportunity for Noah to reach beyond himself. I think God was testing Noah and his leadership abilities. God wanted to see if Noah would question God about destroying humanity. Would he demand to know how God could do this or would he just be concerned about his own welfare and the welfare of his family.
Noah was not quite there, but his descendant Abram would have the guts and courage to call out God on God. Tune in next week for a continuation of the story.
With this last set of holidays, Shmini Atzeret and Simchat Torah, we not only finish the holiday season we also finish reading the Torah. In the same service that we conclude reading the last words of Deuteronomy, we immediately begin reading the book of Genesis. There is no “end” to reading the Torah. We are never finished reading and studying the Torah and its lessons. We re-read and re-study the same stories every year.
One could ask, “Isn’t there some point where we have studied the story of creation, or Noah’s Ark, or the story of the Offering of Isaac enough times?” The answer is, no, there is always something we can learn. Every year we are different, and therefore we have the opportunity to see something new in the same story we read and studied last year. This is true in life as well. We may be doing the same thing we were doing last year, but hopefully we have grown in the past year. So although things look the same, we are not. How we interact with life around us, depends on us and how we push and enable our developed selves to interact with our existing stories.
During the process of gathering the harvest (around the month of Tishrei in the land of Israel) farmers must leave their homes, their gathered produce, and their material wealth to dwell in the sukkah. In doing so, it is hoped that they remember the time when they had nothing and were entirely dependent on God for their sustenance – the time that their ancestors lived in sukkot in the wilderness and ate manna from heaven; their entire survival directly dependent upon God’s providence. But after they were settled in the land and it started to yield fruit in abundance as a result of their hard work, the danger of their forgetting that God is the source of all blessing and success became a likelihood. There was a probable chance for them to become haughty and say to themselves, “My own power and the might of my own hand have won this wealth for me” [Deut. 8: 17].
Even though most of us are no longer farmers, we are still instructed to leave our homes and to enter temporary booths, in order to put our material possessions into proper perspective. The hope is that we give thanks to God in recognition of the fact that God is the source of all blessings, not just when we have no natural source of sustenance, but even when it appears that we have everything we need without God’s assistance. According to this view, Sukkot is not about remembering miracles in the past; rather, it is meant to remind us of our source of well being in the present. By reliving the sukkah of our humble origins, we gain perspective about our good lives in the here and now. Excessive pride and arrogance are inappropriate reactions to our material wealth considering that we once had nothing and survived only by the grace of God. We should realize that just as God was responsible for our survival in the desert, God is responsible for the good life in our land as well.
V’zot HaBracha is the final parasha of the Torah. It contains Moses’ last words, which are blessings to each of the tribes. There is also a closing blessing for all of the tribes, in which Moses reminds the tribes of the abundance they are to enjoy and the goodness which God has bestowed upon them. Moses then ascends Mount Nebo and God shows him the land of Israel. Moses dies at the age of 120. His burial place is unknown. Upon hearing of his death, the Israelites observe a 30 day period of mourning.
Joshua assumes the leadership position of the Israelites and is faced with the task of entering and conquering the land of Israel. The parasha, and thus the Torah, closes with the statement that there would never again be a prophet like Moses.
“And this is the blessing, with which Moses, the man of God, blessed the children of Israel before his death” (Deut. 33:1). Why is Moses called “the man of God”? The commentator Ibn Ezra states that this title was given to Moses to stress the prophetic origin and force of the words uttered in the parasha; that they did not merely proceed from Moses’ own mouth, but were endowed with Divine authority. Other commentators take the opposite view, that these words were Moses’ own words, bidding farewell to his people, in contradistinction to the rest of his utterances in the Torah, which were God’s words.
There is a beautiful midrash, an interpretative story, that explains the verse in a way that is appropriate for each of us. It states that when God came to Moses and told him that the hour of his death was approaching, Moses replied: “Please wait until I bless Israel. All my life they have had no pleasant experiences with me, for I constantly rebuked them and admonished them to fear God and fulfill the commandments. I do not wish to leave this world before I have blessed them.” Anyone can find fault with others. True greatness is to see the good points of others.
What a great message for each of us to remember every day of our lives. Have an easy fast.
Parashat Ha’Azinu is comprised of a poem warning the People of Israel of their impending rebellion against God. Moses calls upon the heaven and earth to witness his words.
The second verse of chapter 32 reads: “May my teaching drop like rain, may my utterance flow like the dew; like the storm winds upon vegetation and like raindrops upon blades of grass.” I have read two interpretations of this verse, and I would like to share them with you.
The first interpretation comes from the medieval commentator Rashi. He states that the rain in this verse refers to the words of Torah. Moses asked that the Torah penetrate the People of Israel like life-giving rain and like dew. Storm winds give strength and life to vegetation, and similarly, the struggle to master Torah gives us, its students, life and purpose. Moses wanted the words of Torah to penetrate the people and make it fruitful, like the rain and dew.
The second interpretation comes from Rabbi Bunim of Parshisco. Rabbi Bunim understands this verse very differently. Whereas Rashi understood the rain to be the words of Torah, Rabbi Bunim understands the rain to indicate words of admonition. He states that when rain falls on trees and plants, growth is not immediately noticeable. It takes time for the rain to have a visible effect. This is also true with admonition. Very often we will try to help a person improve themself, but we will not see a change in that person. Rabbi Bunim says that we must keep trying because persistence and a smile go a long way.
I believe that both of these interpretations provide us with much to think about as we begin this new Jewish year.
This week’s parasha, Nitzavim-VaYelech, is a double portion (this is done so we can complete the reading of the entire Torah in one Jewish year). Moses continues his farewell to the people, and states that the covenant is not only with them, but with all of the people of Israel, past, present and future.
Moses foretells of the people’s rebellion against God after his death, and describes to them the evil that will befall them because of this rebellion. After a time, the people will repent and God will restore them to the Land of Israel. Moses tells the people that they have a choice between life and death, and charges them to choose life, by choosing to obey God and God’s commandments.
Moses continues and explains that he is no longer able to be an active leader. He appoints Joshua as the next leader of the People of Israel. God instructs Moses to write down a poem that will serve as a witness warning the people against their upcoming rebellion. The parasha closes with Moses preparing to deliver the poem to the People of Israel.
“For this commandment that I command you today – it is not hidden from you and it is not distant. It is not in heaven, [for you ] to say, ‘Who can ascend to the heaven for us and take it for us, so that we can listen and perform it?’ …Rather, the matter is very near to you- in your mouth and your heart – to perform it.” Deuteronomy 30:11-14 tells us that the law which we must know and observe is not beyond reach. Everyone is capable of studying and understanding it.
There is a midrash (interpretative story) on this verse. A fool went to the synagogue and asked how one might begin to learn the law. The Rabbis answered that study begins with the Torah, then the Prophets, followed by the Writings. After you have studied the whole Tanach (Torah, Prophets and Writings), one learns, Mishnah, Talmud and Halacha (Jewish Law). The fool thinks, how can I do all of this, and turns to leave. The wise person learns one chapter each day until one completes the task (Deuteronomy Rabbah 8:3).
The hardest part of a journey is taking the first step. With the Jewish New Year approaching, what a wonderful time to take that first step in making Judaism a more permanent part of our lives.
In this week’s Torah portion, entitled Ki Tavo, which translates into “when you enter the land,” Moses instructs the Israelites regarding the law of bikurim, the bringing of the first fruits. Moses states that when the Israelites enter the Land of Israel and settle it, they are to bring the first fruits as sacrifices of thanksgiving to God. As part of the ceremony, the priest recites a history of the Israelites – Abraham and Jacob’s wanderings, the slavery in Egypt, and the possession of the Land of Israel.
The first fruits are brought after the Israelites have settled the land and actually have fruits to offer. Moses is telling the Israelites about a ceremony that will take place in the future. When these words are spoken, the Israelites are on the other side of the Jordan River, hoping and waiting to take the next step in building the land and taking the next step in becoming a people that live in their own land. Moses also provides the wording for the ceremony. The wording for the ceremony describes the history of the Israelites. The history and experiences that have lead them to this miraculous opportunity to be able to offer the first fruits that were grown and harvested in the land of Israel to God.
This ceremony, that will take place in the future, celebrates that the Israelites are living in and cultivating the land of Israel at that time and for generations to come The language of the ceremony places the Israelites past and path at its center. This is an essential step in going forward for the Israelites as they take their next step in settling the land and continuing to become a people. This is also true with us as individual people, as a Jewish community and as Americans. In order to know where we are going, we need to know from where we have come. Then we have to let that become part of how we move forward.
This week’s Torah portion is Ki Tetze and continues a repetition of the mitzvot by which Israel is commanded to live. It contains 74 mitzvot. Jewish teachers have continually looked for an underlying rationale for the observance of the mitzvot. A commentary entitled Devarim Rabbah 6:3 gives us an insight. “Rabbi Pinchas ben Hama said: Wherever you go and whatever you do, pious deeds will accompany you. When you build a new house, ‘make a parapet for your roof’ (Deuteronomy 22:8). When you make a door, ‘write [the commandments] upon your doorposts’ (Deuteronomy 6:9). When you put on new clothing, don’t ‘wear cloth that combines wool and linen’ (Deuteronomy 19:27). When you cut your hair, don’t’ ‘round the corners of you head’ (Leviticus 19:27). When you plough your field, do not, ‘plow with an ox and an ass together’ (Deuteronomy 22:20). When you reap your harvest, and have forgotten a sheaf, don’t pick it up. Leave it for the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow (Deuteronomy 24:19).”
The mitzvot are commandments and are commanded in order to imbue each common, mundane, human action with a sense of holiness. The mitzvot give us an opportunity to see and to seek out holiness in the everyday. It is our mission to take advantage of the opportunities presented to us.
In “The Jewish Way,” Rabbi Yitz Greenberg teaches that the Exodus from Egypt teaches not just about social justice in the past and present, but of the redemption of the world in the future. “The overwhelming majority of earth’s human beings have always lived in poverty and under oppression, their lives punctuated by sickness and suffering…Most of the nameless and faceless billions know the world as indifferent or hostile. Statistically speaking, human life is of little value. The downtrodden and the poor accept their fate as destined; the powerful and the successful accept good fortune as their due. Power, rather than justice, seems always to rule.
Jewish religion affirms otherwise: Judaism insists that history and the social-economic-political reality in which people live will eventually be perfected; much of what passes for the norm of human existence is really a deviation from the ultimate reality.
How do we know this? From an actual event in history – the Exodus…The freeing of the slaves testified that human beings are meant to be free…No, the Exodus did not destroy evil in the world. What it did was set up an alternative conception of life. Were it not for the Exodus, humans would have reconciled themselves to the evils that exist in the world. The Exodus establishes the dream of perfection and thereby creates the tension that must exist until reality is redeemed.”
The story of the Jewish people’s exodus from Egyptian slavery has served the Jewish people, on a national and individual level, as an inspiration in the midst of oppression. The drama of the Exodus has given hope for a brighter future. For some, the Exodus is not seen as a one time event, but rather as God’s intervention in the world and in God’s promise that God will be with the Jewish people.
In “The Role of Non-establishment Groups”, journalist Walter Ruby exhibits this idea when he wrote “virtually no one,… dared predict in 1985-88, that the seemingly impregnable citadel of repression that was the Soviet Union would self-destruct so quickly, or that more than 500,000 Jews would be able to leave the USSR in three years beginning in late 1989.
The only person I remember who made such a prediction was Avital Sharansky, who told me during an interview in New York during a very bleak moment in 1984 … that not only would Anatoly soon be granted his freedom, but that hundreds of thousands more Soviet Jews would be coming on aliyah in the near future.
I asked Avital what was her basis for being so optimistic at a moment when U.S.-Soviet relations had hit a low point. She responded with evident seriousness that her study of Judaism had convinced her that the God of Israel had already preordained a great modern Exodus of Soviet Jewry to rival the biblical Exodus from Egypt. I recall feeling in awe of Avital’s evident deep faith in Jewish redemption in the face of an implacable situation that appeared to be turning more ominous, but concluding sadly that she was engaged in willful self-delusion. I fact, Avital Sharansky’s unworldly vision proved prophetic.”
The redemption of the Jewish people from Egyptian slavery was and continues to be a defining moment in Jewish history. In Genesis 15:13-14, in the context of the covenant with Abraham and the Jewish people, God foretells the suffering that Israel would endure as slaves in a foreign land. This can suggest that this experience is of significance to the very reason and mission of the Jewish people.
In Deuteronomy 24:17-22 we read: “You shall not subvert the rights of the stranger or the fatherless; you shall not take a widow’s garment in pawn. Remember that you were a slave in Egypt and that the Lord your God redeemed you from there; therefore do I enjoin you to observe this commandment. When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow – in order that the Lord your God may bless you in all your undertakings. When you beat down the fruit of your olive trees, do not go over them again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow. When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, do not pick it over again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow. Always remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt; therefore do I enjoin you to observe this commandment.”
In society, we tend to view gifts to the less fortunate than us as charity. Charity is understood as what we give out of the goodness of our hearts, when we feel moved to give. The Torah takes a different view on charity. We call it tzedakah, which has its root in the word righteous, and justice. We are told that assistance to those less fortunate than us is in fact a matter of law. We are required to act in a way that reflects sensitivity for those who are vulnerable. God has gifted something to us, money, a harvest, etc., and we are obligated to give some of that to the needy. The imposition of this demand is that we were slaves in Egypt and that we were redeemed from there. We were a persecuted group who suffered at the hands of others, and we were redeemed from there in order to do right in the world.
I have heard people say about Passover, “We were slaves, God redeemed us (let’s eat).” But that is not the story. There should not be a “period” after “us.” Rather there should be a comma. The real message of Passover is, “We were slaves, God redeemed us, so that we could become a holy nation.” The challenge is to live the second half of that sentence in our everyday lives.
Judaism is a religion that attaches meaning and purpose to life. The mitzvot are intended to enhance and enrich us and the lives we live. With Judaism’s focus on life, what does that mean about Judaism’s perspective on death? Is death the cessation of life or is it the beginning of a new type of existence? Does how we behave in this life have any connection to what happens to us after we die?
While there are a clear Biblical references to burial and mourning practices, there are few Biblical references to what happens after one dies. There are references to sheol – which is described as a destination for all dead, but the Bible’s silence on the topic could suggest its belief in finality to life once one takes his/her final breath.
By the time of the rabbinic period, 3rd century B.C.E – 6th century C.E., we see the belief in an afterlife was a central theme. What the nature of the afterlife was varied, from it being a place where the soul of only the righteous ascended to a place where everybody ascends, even the wicked, after their souls have been purged over the course of a year.
Rabbi Peter Schweitzer states that “We live on after our death in the God works that we have done in the good name we have made for ourselves… we gain a kind of immortality through our deeds and our accomplishments, the institutions that we build, the charities that we endow, the families we nurture, and the lasting memories that endure in the minds of those who will survive us.”
The Exodus from Egypt is a significant event in Jewish history. It is where we began the transformation from people to a nation. The Egyptian experience provides much of the basis for social justice and morality. We are told not to subvert the rights of strangers and orphans, we are prohibited from taking a widow’s garment as a guarantee for a loan and if we overlook a sheaf in the field we are not permitted to retrieve it.
The collective memory of the Exodus from Egypt has served the Jewish people as an inspiration in the midst of oppression. The Exodus has given perpetual hope for a brighter future. Throughout history, Jews have continuously prayed to God and asked to be redeemed again.
In 1963, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel delivered the opening address at the National Conference on Religion and Race in Chicago. “At the first conference on religion and race, the main participants were Pharaoh and Moses. Moses’ first words were: ‘Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, let My people go that they may celebrate a feast to Me.’ While Pharaoh retorted:’Who is the Lord that I should heed his voice and Let Israel go? I do not know the Lord, and moreover I will not let Israel go.’ The outcome of that summit meeting has not come to an end. Pharaoh is not ready to capitulate. The exodus began, but is far from having been completed. In fact, it was easier for the children of Israel to cross the Red Sea than for a Negro to cross certain university campuses.”
For Rabbi Heschel, the Bible’s tale of the Exodus served as the foundation for his belief that human beings are meant to be free and equal. That message can be quite complicated to actually live out, but is a message we need to struggle with to live out everyday.
If the Torah is an eternal document, how do we reconcile issues or topics that were written about in the Torah that do not seem to be in step with our modern day thinking? Women’s roles in society, slavery, or polygamy are a few of those possible topics.
Rabbi Eliezer Berkovits, in “Jewish Women in Time and Torah” offers a thoughtful suggestion. He writes: “If one considers the status of women as it emerges from these laws, mores, and opinions, one cannot help wondering: Is this Judaism? Is this Torah? How is all of this to be reconciled with Torah values and ideals? What happened to ‘And thou shalt love your fellow as yourself’ and to “Righteousness, righteousness, thou shalt pursue’?… Undoubtedly, the basic views and values that originally determined the status of women in Jewish society were not derived from the Torah, even though many of them were later given midrashic justification. They were Torah-tolerated because they could not be abolished with an act of Torah legislation. They had to be tolerated, but certain changes and differences were present which indicated that an entirely different system of values and teachings also existed…we have discovered the developing status of women as it passed through two different levels: the Torah-tolerated one and the Torah-guided and Torah-instructed one. On the first and lowest level, in the early man-built and man-maintained society, woman is not recognized as possessing her own personality. At this stage she is merely an impersonal adjunct to the male. It is the Torah-teaching that recognizes her in her own personal existence and establishes her human dignity in a world in which she has her own vitally important place because of her own life-related nature.”
What does it mean to be the Chosen People? Does the idea of chosenness imply entitlement or responsibility?
For contemporary western-minded people we are uncomfortable with the idea of chosenness, as it goes against values of equality. If God created all human beings, why would God single out one group of people? For what purpose?
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks writes, “ The Hebrew Bible speaks of a God who not only loves, but who loves precisely those who are otherwise unloved – the younger rather than the older, the weak, not the strong; the few, not the many. From this flow all acts of chosenness in the Bible: Abel, not Cain; Abraham, not a nation; Isaac, not Ishmael; Jacob, not Esau; Israel the slaves, rather than Egypt the masters. To be sure, no one is rejected. Divine choice does not mean that God is with this person, not that; with one nation, not another…There is nothing exclusive about patriarchal covenant: “Through you shall all the families be blessed.” But there is nonetheless an insistence on the integrity of diversity, the dignity of difference; the preciousness to God of those whom the world ignore or mistreats, God sets His image on the only creature for whom difference is a source of identity, namely man. And to exemplify this truth, He chooses Israel, the people who are called on to be different, to show that for God, difference matters.”
What could the purpose or purposes be for keeping kosher? Do we need a reason, or is because God said so enough? If we do not need a reason, but would still like one, what could a reason be for keeping kosher?
One could say kashrut is about healthy eating. In addressing the aspect of keeping kosher that states which animals are permitted or forbidden to be eaten, there are those who say the animals permitted or prohibited are better or are harmful to your body and how it functions. Others state that the animals permitted and prohibited for us to eat are categorized by whether or not they prey on animals. We are only permitted to eat those animals that do not eat other animals. This can absolutely be seen as an oxymoron, we are determining the permissibility of animals we can eat based on the fact that they do not eat other animals.
There are yet others who would say kashrut for them is all about the idea of training oneself to make choices with the very thing that we need to sustain ourselves. They would say it does not matter what is permitted and what is forbidden, something needed to be in and out. Kashrut is about us differentiating ourselves from animals by making conscious decisions with regard to the very thing that we need to survive – food. By making choices with regards to food, we create a structure in our lives that sets us up to acknowledge we have to control and can be in control of how we live. We have choices as to how to live and we need to aspire to make thoughtful choices with each step every day of our lives. That first step begins with food and then branches out to all of the other aspects of our lives. Conscious, thoughtful decisions – that is what Judaism expects from us.
What role does Halacha, Jewish law, play in deciding ritual practice? Does Jewish practice have to be dictated by Jewish law? Can I decide what and how I want to observe Jewish ritual? What role does community pressure play on one’s observance?
There are pros and cons to each of these approaches. One could observe Jewish ritual by following Halacha to the “t”, but it could be without heart. One could observe based on purely personal feeling toward that ritual, but then where is the commitment that goes beyond whim.
The more difficult approach is following the structure that pushes us beyond relying on our personal feelings, stretches us and at the same time forces us to make sure that Jewish practice and Judaism in general are not a “dead hand without a heart and soul.” How this balance works is an eternal Jewish challenge.
Do the origins of the Torah have any impact on how I observe? If so, what role does it play? Is it all or nothing? Why do we think in black and white? Will I ever be able to prove the origins of the Torah? If I could, would that change how I practice? Do I only practice how I practice because I feel beholden to one vision or another that someone else has presented?
If I believe the Torah was written by God, then the authority of Biblical law is God and Biblical law can only be changed by God. If I believe the Torah was written by humans, than I will probably believe the authority of Biblical law is humans and Biblical law can be changed by humans.
For instance, driving on shabbat is prohibited in the Torah because it violates the biblical commandment of lighting a fire, among other prohibitions. If I believe the Torah was written by God, that prohibition can only be changed by God. If I believe the Torah was written by humans, then I can say that the Torah was written by humans at a specific time period for a specific situation. Continuing down that path, I could make the argument that since humans wrote the Torah to respond to their time period, it is our job today to make sure that Jewish law responds to our time period and that driving on shabbat to engage in shabbat experiences of services, family or friends is permissible and may even be encouraged.
There is an argument that could be made that once the floodgates open and humans are left as the authority for deciding or changing Biblical law, we will decide what is subjectively best for us and all of Judaism will wash away. What if it is something in the middle? God and us working together to figure out how to bring the most holiness, respect and dignity to the world. That would be a lot of work, but I do believe that is what Judaism is about, the brit, the covenant, between us and God.
How do we make decisions and what makes for a Jewish decision? In Deuteronomy we read “Do what is right and good in the sight of the Lord…” How does one figure out “what is right and good in the sight of the Lord?”
Is following halacha (Jewish Law) the definition of this? Is halacha enough? What about subjective human elements such as reason, emotion and intuition? Do they play a role? How do these interact or what is the interplay between them and halacha?
If one does not use halacha, but rather uses Jewish values such as brit (covenant), respect for human dignity, tikkun olam to guide in making a decision, does that make it a Jewish decision?
When faced with making a decision, a person will consider various factors and values which might be taken into consideration. As Jews, one of those values is Judaism. The difference between secular ethics and Jewish ethics is that secular ethics bases itself solely on individual subjective human criteria. Jewish ethics incorporates cumulative wisdom and experience of Jewish texts, traditions, values and customs. How we as individual Jews may use this cumulative wisdom may differ, but just using it makes our decisions Jewish.