Va'era - Thank (and don't overthink)

Va’era/He Appeared

“I will redeem you with an outstretched arm…” (Ex. 6:6)

            Dai-dayenu, dai-dayenu… Although we just celebrated Hanukah, this week’s Torah portion really puts us in the Passover spirit, advancing the exodus story and including some significant sections found in the Passover Haggadah.  (Or perhaps it's just that all this snowfall is making me long for spring!)

For the second time, Moses and Aaron go before Pharaoh, demanding that he allow the Israelites to go worship God in the desert.  Pharaoh remains unwilling to accede to the demands of Moses and Aaron, or the hitherto unknown deity whom they represent. As a result of this stubborn defiance, the Egyptians are struck by seven plagues—blood, frogs, lice, wild beasts, pestilence, boils and hail.  Despite the devastation that ensues, Pharaoh still refuses to let the enslaved people go free, setting the stage for the final three plagues in next week’s parasha.

According to the text, it is Aaron and not Moses who strikes the Nile with the staff, in order to bring the first plague of blood.  Why doesn’t Moses do it himself?  The commentator Rashi explains that Moses did not want to strike the Nile because the Nile saved him long ago, when his family shielded him from Pharaoh’s murderous decree and sent him in a basket along the river to safety.

Why did Moses care so much about the “feelings” of an inanimate object; would the water really care if Moses struck it?  Moses’ actions model an important lesson for us, which is to habitually practice hakarat ha-tov (“recognition of the good”) or gratitude toward others, as a matter of course.  The alternative—namely to over-think the situation, or calculate how much effort we think someone put in for us –may result in our coming up with excuses not to show them the proper thanks.  Instead, it is important to cultivate the habit of showing gratitude whenever it is due.  If Moses showed such consideration and gratitude toward the water, all the more so we are obligated to give thanks to the actual people who help us in so many ways. 

This Shabbat and New Year’s Eve, as we reflect on the blessings of the past year, let’s remember to reach out and thank all those who helped us along the way.  Personally, my sincerest thanks this week go to the intrepid snow plow drivers…

Shabbat shalom! 

Parashat Shemot - Striving to Step Up

Shemot/Names - Shabbat 12/25/10

                                                                         

“He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed.” (Ex. 3:2)

            What do science fiction writer Robert Heinlein, Popeye the Sailorman and pre-teens have in common? It turns out they all have Parashat Shemot to thank for quotations that made them famous.  Cases in point:  When Moses flees Egypt and marries Tziporah, he names their son Gershom because, as Moses says, he has been a “stranger (ger) in a strange land,” thus lending Heinlein the perfect title for his classic book about life on Mars.  Later, God instructs Moses to go to Pharaoh and tells him, “Ehyeh asher ehyeh,” translated as “I will be what I will be”, or “I am that I am.”  When Popeye’s famous cartoon short “I Yam what I Yam” was made, he was lucky not to have to pay divine royalties.  Finally, there are the indelible words of a pugnacious Israelite.  After Moses asks this Israelite why he is striking his fellow, the man retorts, “Who made you chief and ruler over us?”  This infamous phrase lives on among adolescents everywhere in the form of “You’re not the boss of me!”

             Aside from famous one-liners, this theme of intervention is the major subtext of the parasha.  In the face of Pharaoh’s decree that Israelite boys be killed, the midwives Shifra and Puah put themselves at risk to save newborns;  Pharaoh’s daughter adopts the endangered baby Moses, despite indications that he is a Hebrew;  Moses intervenes three times when faced with injustice, first breaking up a fight between Israelites, then defending a slave from a taskmaster and finally helping Tziporah and her sisters ward off harassing shepherds; and of course, Aaron joins his brother to intercede on behalf of the oppressed. 

           

When Moses saw the taskmaster who was beating an Israelite, he "looked this way and that way, and when he saw there was no person (ish) he smote the Egyptian."  Commentators note that there probably were other people, yet when Moses looked around he saw that no Egyptian would defend the slave, and neither were any Israelites willing to get involved.  He realized that he needed to do something, and took action.  In this way Moses followed the teaching of the Mishna (Pirkei Avot): “In a place where there is no ish, strive to be one.” 

Now that’s a quotation worth remembering.

Shabbat shalom!

Micah Liben, Legacy Heritage Rabbinic Fellow

Vayechi - Blessing Each Other

Vayechi/He Lived - Shabbat 12/18/10

“May the angel who has redeemed me from all harm bless these lads.”

            I consider myself to be a polite person; I hold the door for others, RSVP promptly, even fold my dinner napkin before placing it on my lap.  Emily Post would surely give me high marks.  However, I refuse to say “God bless you” when someone sneezes.  Yes, I know it is a social convention, but I just don’t get it.  Why should a semi-autonomous, convulsive expulsion of air from the lungs through the nose and mouth warrant a blessing?  Jerry Seinfeld’s response to a sneeze (“you’re so good-looking!”), while perhaps not entirely appropriate, at least has the advantage of making someone feel good after the sneeze’s force has thrown their head and face out of whack.  But “bless you” just never seemed right to me. 

           

            Notwithstanding this small personal protest, I believe that giving and receiving blessings can be very profound.  Jewish ritual prescribes occasions for doing just that: parents bless their children on Friday nights, rabbis bless students who become bar/bat mitzvah, kohanim (in many synagogues) bless the congregation, and brides receive a special blessing during their veiling ceremony.  Additionally, many brides follow the custom of giving out blessings to their guests during the kabballat panim reception, drawing on their role as “queen for the day.”  And I know of one shul with another beautiful tradition—when parents of a newborn have an aliyah, everyone together blesses the child, singing words right out of this week’s parasha.

           

            In Vayechi, Jacob blesses his grandsons Ephraim and Menashe, and also offers each of his own sons a blessing in what is one of the Bible’s most poetic passages.  The parasha brings to a close the age of the Matriarchs and Patriarchs.  It is a fitting theme for a Torah portion that always comes around the time of the new calendar year.  As we prepare for this transition, we have the chance to reflect on the blessings we’ve received up to this point, and on the blessings we wish for ourselves and our loved ones in the time ahead.  This week, find the opportunity to offer a blessing to someone—a family member, a neighbor, a friend.  The word for blessing (b’racha) is related to the word for knee (berech), the joint supporting over half the weight of the human body.  Indeed, when we bless each other sincerely, what we gain is a sturdy source of support.

           

            With brachot for a week of health and happiness (and minimal sneezing).

Shabbat shalom!

Micah Liben, Legacy Heritage Rabbinic Fellow

Parashat Vayigash - Arguing for Heaven’s Sake

Vayigash/He approached - Shabbat 12/11/10 

             In the wake of last week’s cliffhanger ending (what would become of Benjamin after being framed for stealing Joseph’s goblet?), Judah makes an impassioned plea for his brother Benjamin’s fate, asking the “Egyptian ruler” to imprison him in Benjamin’s place.  Moved by this act of integrity, Joseph decides to finally reveal his identity to the stunned brothers.  In a great show of decency, Joseph tells them he has no hard feelings towards them for their past actions.  This is indeed rather surprising; a more cynical reading might be, “Now that I’ve made you feel powerless and reduced you to groveling before me, I have no hard feelings – anymore!”

    Letting bygones be bygones, Joseph gives his brothers gifts and sends them to settle in the province of Goshen.  After twenty-two years, Jacob is reunited with his beloved son.  When Jacob arrives in Egypt to settle with his childrens’ families, he comes before Pharaoh and offers a cynical statement of his own.  Having already played the roles of a simple tent-dweller, a cunning charlatan, a misguided parent and everything in between, Jacob shows that he can play a grumpy centenarian, as well, telling Pharaoh, “Few and hard have been the years of my life, nor do they measure up to the life spans of my fathers!” 

Other than the sweetness of revenge and the bitterness of old age, what does Vayigash teach us?  When Joseph sends his brothers home, he tells them, “Do not be quarrelsome on the way.”  Rashi explains Joseph’s words to mean, “Do not engage in arguments over halacha (Jewish law), lest the road become unsteady for you.” Like Joseph’s brothers, the Jewish community is comprised of many groups, whose conceptions of Jewish law vary.  The Mishna teaches that sometimes machloket (argument or debate) is a good thing, like in the case of the Rabbis Hillel and Shammi; such debates will endure because they were for the sake of Heaven.  But when Jews get caught up in the passion of their arguments because of factional disputes or personal aggrandizement, they truly risk losing their way.  In such cases, machloket will not bring us closer to Heaven, but will only leave us bitter and cynical. 

May this Shabbat bring peace among brothers and a sense of life's fulfillment, and may all of our arguments be for the sake of Heaven. 

Vayeshev - The Power of One Act of Kindness

Vayeshev/He Returned - Shabbat 11/27/10

            Repeating his parents’ mistakes, Jacob favors Joseph over his other sons and gives him a colored tunic.  Joseph has recurring dreams – which he readily shares - of his family bowing to him.  If all that weren’t bad enough, Joseph is also a tattle-tale.  The jealous brothers plot against Joseph and sell him into Egyptian slavery, where he serves Pharaoh’s adviser, Potiphar.

               The Torah takes a break* in the narrative to tell the story of Judah--one of the brothers--and Tamar (this is that chapter they skip in Hebrew School!).  Judah chooses Tamar as a wife for his eldest son, but his son dies prematurely before having children. As per the custom, Judah’s second son then marries Tamar, but he dies also.  Instead of marrying off Tamar to his third son, Judah tells her to wait.  Many years go by as she is unable to start a family and is barred from marrying someone else.  Finally, when Judah’s own wife passes away Tamar seizes the chance to achieve justice for herself.  Dressed like a prostitute, she seduces Judah and conceives.  When Judah hears that Tamar has become pregnant, he calls for her execution; but Tamar presents the items that he himself paid her with, and Judah realizes he has wronged her.

               Meanwhile, Joseph impresses his master in Egypt – and his master’s wife, as well.  When Joseph refuses her advances, Potiphar’s wife retaliates by accusing him of assault.  Joseph is imprisoned and interprets the dreams of his fellow prisoners while in jail.    

            Among the colorful cast of characters in Vayeshev, perhaps the most significant is the one with no name.  When Joseph cannot find his brothers at the beginning of the portion and gets lost in the fields, an anonymous man sees him wandering and helpfully points him in the right direction.  The result is a chain of events that leads Joseph and eventually Jacob’s whole family to Egypt, a prelude to the Israelites’ redemption and encounter with God at Sinai.  The powerful lesson this nameless character teaches is that we never know how the smallest deed can affect others.  Performing acts of chesed (kindness) can have profound and far-reaching effects; indeed, they may even change the course of history.  May we merit to change the world through our actions - one deed at a time. 

* In our Continuing Education class we discussed whether this story was indeed a "break" from the Joseph narrative, or whether it was an integral part of the story, using different lenses of reading and interpreting the text.  See here for the source sheet! https://sites.google.com/site/tassourcesheets/source-sheets/TorahthroughMultipleLenses.JudahandTamar.doc?attredirects=0&d=1

Vayishlach - Overcoming our Impulses

           Vayishlach/He Sent - Shabbat 11/20/10

“No longer shall your name be called Jacob, but rather Israel (Yisrael),

for you have striven (sarita) with beings divine and human and have prevailed.”  (Gen. 32:29)

            After leaving Lavan’s household, Jacob prepares to confront his brother, Esau.  That night he wrestles with a mysterious figure who ultimately blesses him and renames him Yisrael (Israel).  Jacob overcomes his adversary yet his thigh is injured during the struggle; for this reason Jews to this day do not eat meat around the sciatic nerve.  When the brothers finally meet, they embrace and part ways peacefully.  Later they reunite to bury their father, Isaac.

           

Jacob relocates with his family to Shechem, where his only daughter, Dina, is abducted by the prince of the region.  Jacob’s sons retaliate by convincing the men of Shechem to undergo circumcision and subsequently putting them to the sword and plundering the city.  Jacob is displeased by their extreme reaction and, fearful that his family will be endangered, moves once again.  En route to Efrat, Rachel gives birth to a second son who is named Benjamin.  She dies in childbirth, and is buried on the road near Bethlehem. 

In the section of the Mishnah called Pirkei Avot (or Ethics of the Fathers), the Sages teach, “Who is mighty (gibor) – one who subdues his own impulse (yitzro).”  Jacob strives to be mighty – to be a gibor by getting ahead – from the time he grabs Esau’s heel in the womb.  To reach his goals, Jacob succumbs to his evil impulse, his yetzer hara.  He rarely lets a chance to be deceptive or manipulative pass; he takes advantage of his exhausted brother, tricks his blind father, and in last week’s portion even has the chutzpah to insist that God meet certain demands of his.

 But after struggling with a mysterious, unidentified figure – perhaps the embodiment of his own yetzer hara – Jacob emerges with a new name, identity and outlook.  He outgrows his earlier identity as Jacob the trickster and manipulator, and instead becomes Israel, who engages with spiritual struggle.  He reconciles peacefully with his brother, and declares that he can see God in the face of others.  Despite the injury he sustains, Jacob is described as “shalem,” which connotes “wholeness,” ultimately becoming what he always strove to be - a true gibor.  May all of our struggles result in transformative growth, and may our mightiness stem from our ability to conquer our own impulses. 

Missed a Class? Want Extra Source Sheets?

 Click Here for Source Sheets from prior Lunch-n-Learns and Continuing Education Classes

Vayera - A Lie for the Sake of Love and Peace

Vayera/And He Appeared - Shabbat 10/23/10

“I will surely return to you at this time next year, and behold Sarah your wife

will have a son…And Sarah laughed.” (18:10-12)

            This week’s Torah portion, Parashat Vayera, is a veritable “top ten” of biblical narratives.  We read of the three divine messengers who bring God’s promise of childbirth to Abraham and Sarah; the fiery destruction of the lawless cities S’dom and Amorah, even as Abraham argues against their annihilation; and the dramatic binding of Isaac episode.  

As it says in the verse above, Sarah laughs upon hearing the news of her future childbirth.  This nervous laughter—encapsulating both hope and gratitude along with disbelief and derision—is indicative of the emotional roller-coaster running throughout the parasha.  On one hand we have the elation accompanying Isaac’s birth and the moral audacity of Abraham’s arguing with God regarding the destruction of S’dom, while on the other hand we have the heartache of Abraham’s separation from his son Yishmael, and the tragic fate of Lot’s wife after she flees the burning city. 

            In addition to the conflicting emotions it raises, the text also includes a strange discrepancy which serves as the basis for a beautiful teaching by the Sages.  When Sarah first hears that she will give birth, she remarks, “Now that I am so old, and my husband is old, will I truly bear a son?” God then relays this statement to Abraham, but omits one crucial element, telling him merely that Sarah said, “Will I really bear a child, old as I am?”  Note that God left out Sarah’s remark about Abraham’s age!  Realizing the discrepancy, the commentator Rashi explains that her words were altered by God for the sake of peace.  That is, God realized Abraham would be insulted by the implication that he was too old to father a child, and therefore He sacrificed pure honesty for the sake of sh’lom bayit, or “peace within the home.” 

When we are honest for the sake of being constructive, then we do a mitzvah.  However, being “brutally honest” at someone else’s expense defies the example that God Himself sets for us.  May the coming week be filled with honesty in the service of peace, and with much joyful laughter.             

            Shabbat shalom!

            Micah Liben, Legacy Heritage Rabbinic Fellow

Chayei Sarah - Praying our Hearts Out

Chayei Sarah/The Life of Sarah - Shabbat 10/30/10

“Sarah’s lifetime was one hundred twenty seven years…and Sarah died in Hevron.”

            Well, if your spouse took an unplanned excursion with your child in order to offer him as a sacrifice, wouldn’t you die from the shock?  This is precisely what happened to Sarah - at least according to one Rabbinic explanation.  Indeed, no sooner does the binding of Isaac episode take place at the end of last week’s Torah portion, then this week’s story opens with Sarah’s death in the immediate aftermath.   

After Sarah is buried in the Cave of Machpelah, Abraham charges his servant with finding a suitable wife for Isaac.  The servant prays for God’s assistance with this challenge, and soon meets Rebecca at a well.  She kindly draws water for him and his camels before ultimately travelling back to become Isaac’s wife.  At the end of the parasha, Abraham is laid to rest alongside Sarah, by his two sons Isaac and Yishmael.

There are few instances of personal prayer in the Torah, so it is noteworthy that Chayei Sarah contains two examples of spontaneous praying.  The first is the servant’s aforementioned plea for heavenly guidance, which he makes on the side of the road before his journey.  The second is more subtle; the text says that Isaac “meditated in the field before evening.”  According to the Rabbis, this indicates that Isaac actually instituted the afternoon prayer service (mincha)! 

Today we are used to a fixed, set liturgy; spontaneous prayer feels foreign to us. How often do we approach God with a sincere outpouring of our hearts?  I remember how some of my rabbinical school classmates would lament their discomfort with offering prayers on the spot during chaplaincy, while their counterparts from other religious institutions in the program had no trouble doing so.  Yet the Talmud teaches that we should add something new to our set prayers—every time we pray.  And surely we are as much in need of pouring out our hearts to God as our ancestors were; we, too, have challenges that test us.   

           

This week let us follow the example in our Torah portion, and take the opportunity to offer our own spontaneous prayer – be it during services, in the afternoon, or on the road.  May our prayers give us strength to overcome whatever challenges we face.  And, of course, may the week ahead be free of any traumatic family outings. 

Shabbat shalom!

Micah Liben, Legacy Heritage Rabbinic Fellow

           

Vayetze - Being the Angels on Jacob's Ladder

Vayetze/He Departed - Shabbat 11/13/10

“A ladder was set on the ground, its top reaching the sky;

angels of God were going up it and coming down.” 

            Fleeing the wrath of his brother Esau, Jacob leaves his family in Be’er Sheva and heads for Haran.  At sundown he stops to rest, and dreams of a ladder that reaches Heaven.  In the dream he receives a blessing, both for his own protection and for his descendants.  When he wakes, Jacob makes his famous declaration, “God was in this place and I did not know it.”

When Jacob continues eastward, he encounters Rachel who has come to water her flocks.  While the other shepherds look on, Jacob single-handedly rolls off the giant stone covering the well.  After this show of strength, Jacob kisses Rachel, raises his voice—and weeps.

                     

Jacob works for his uncle Laban (La-van) in exchange for Rachel’s hand in marriage, but not before Lavan tricks him into first marrying his older daughter, Leah.  Leah bears many children while Rachel struggles to conceive, until finally she gives birth to Joseph.  When Lavan’s deceitful ways extend to his business dealings, Jacob decides to take his family and leave.  Lavan pursues him, and ultimately they agree to a truce.

 

            Many commentators note that there is something strange in the verse describing Jacob's dream.  Given that the top of the ladder is in the Heavens, we might have expected the angels in the dream to first be descending from Heaven before going back up the ladder, and not vice versa as the text above indicates.  Why the counter-intuitive order?  Rashi’s explanation is that the angels accompanying Jacob through the land of Israel would not be accompanying him further; thus they were the ones who ascended the ladder, after which new angels descended to accompany him on his journey outside the land. 

So it is with us; like Jacob, individuals in our day have their own ‘angels’ that must remain behind when they travel or move to new places.  Friends, families, jobs and communities cannot accompany people when they move; instead people must find new support networks.  By welcoming newcomers with open arms into a warm and inclusive synagogue environment, we may serve as ‘angels’ to those who have come to make a new home in our community.