Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Parashat Vayera



Parashat Vayera
Heshvan 18 ~ November 3, 2012
by Neska

I am sitting here in the hot sun...
laying here waiting to heal...
outside in this overwhelming heat...
feeling Hashem's presence
somehow surrounding me...
I can do nothing...it is so hot...
I am wanting to sleep...
It's too hot even for passers-by...
I'll just close my eyes for a minute...
for a minute...
for a mi....

Am I asleep?
Am I dreaming?
Are those visitors?
There! Under those trees!
Yes...three visitors...
Oh. Thank You El Shaddai!
This is what I needed!
To do something! i can't stand sitting around!
I am up and running toward them
begging them to stop and rest
and allowing me to feed them before they go on their way.
They come with me
and I am running to Sarah: go prepare matzahs
(I even tell her what kind of flour to use)
and I am running to Yishmael
(who like me is not feeling so well)
and Yishmael is now running as well
to get a calf to feed our visitors.
I watch him as he goes.
My son...my only son...Hashem has Graced me...us.

And when the visitors leave...
telling Sarah and I that we will have another son by next year...
my joy is overwhelming
Another son...Another son..

At the end of the Parsha, Hashem asks Avraham to take his only son, the one he loves, and bring him to the mountain. For me, the test of Avraham is - which son do I bring.

I love them both Hashem.
Both are my first sons.
Yes, Yishmael is a bit wild...but his heart is so good.
Yes, the brothers fight...but look at my ancestors...Kayin and Hevel
You tell me to listen to Sarah....and I do..i do
But does she truly truly understand how as the father of both sons I so love them both.
And also Hagar...how can I not?
You, Hashem, are asking me to choose between my sons...again. I don't know if I can. I don't know if I should. i don't know if I am hearing correctly. Choose between Yishmael and Yitzchak? Again?
And so....i will take both my sons...
I will take Yitzhak.
I will take Yishmael.
I will take Yitzhak to the top of the mountain.
I will take Yishmael to walk with us.
I will come down...
and somehow I know...
I will have both my sons.

And Avraham comes down
And Yitzchak comes down
And Avraham and Yishmael walk home together
And Yizhak goes on his separate way
This, for me, is Avraham's test. 

Does he lose a bit of Yitzhak? Does he lose a bit of Yishmael? I think so. But at the end of his life, both brothers are there to bury him. The brothers have made peace...not only with Avraham, but also with themselves. if only it could have lasted thru the generations.

Shabbat Shalom.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Parashat Lech Lecha


Parashat Lech Lecha
Heshvan 11 ~ October 27, 2012
by Alex Hart


On the theme of characterization, here in Lech Lecha, we are presented with a man whose ‘life is broken’ (“Studies in the Weekly Parshah”, Rabbi Yehudah Nachshoni)

Avram follows G-d’s instructions to abandon everything; his ancestral home, family, life as he knows it. He sets out on a mission and no longer has a point of reference, not even a geographical reference; he has only his own moral compass. Avram is reliant on G-d’s words; those promising him, quite literally, fame and fortune.  And this is our progenitor. Some cynics might say, “the man’s lost it. He has taken off into the wilderness with a campervan. He’s a missionary!”

As our forefather, the man with whom it all begins, surely we can wish for an individual from whom to learn; someone we could set on a pedestal yet still be within our reach, someone to emulate, yet with whom to find some similarity, some common ground; it doesn’t appear that way.  According to Rashi, 8 of Avram’s 10 trials occur in this parsha, each more monumental than the last and so very little that matches our everyday lives the prism through which we view our hero skews our perspective. An action-packed parsha with so much to think about but with a brief pause, our lead can be brought into focus.

I found inspiration in  י:יד בראשית. The context is a period of war between the four kings and the five kings of the region, the latter of whom had taken Lot, Avram’s nephew, captive. This is the very first example of the halacha of pidyon shivuyim and, with the return of Gilad Shalit, this time last year, has had enormous coverage in recent weeks. Avram takes up arms in order to rescue Lot, having formed a coalition with the four kings and his own merry band of 318 men.  Avram had recently separated from Lot יג:ט)) why would he embroil himself in a battle? Moshe Halbertal, a philosophy professor at Hebrew University of Jerusalem helps provide an answer which transcends time: “Those things are in the DNA of the culture, it’s a sentiment that can’t be measured in exact legal or judicial terms. It plays a role in those moments of perplexity. You fall back on your basic identity. As a Jew, as an Israeli, what do I do? (New York Times of October 21, 2011) Our protagonist is not so far removed after all.
Looking out for Lot is one of three examples in which we see Avram seemingly take unilateral action based on instinct. He proves himself forewarned based simply on a gut feel. Of the 3, it is in this example that is totally without fanfare.

Chronologically speaking, the first example of the 3 is Avram’s strategy before arriving in Egypt. (יב:יב) He anticipates that the Egyptians, upon seeing Sarah, will presume that she is bounty, with scant regard for another man’s ‘possessions’. A modern day explanation of Avram’s strategy comes from Gilad Sharon, being interviewed in advance of his recent book’s publication, ‘Ariel Sharon: The Life of a Leader’, he quotes his parents: If you’re invited to dinner with the queen, you’d better know your table manners,”. (Plus ça change?!) Avram therefore quietly advises Sarah to anticipate the scenario and to pretend to be his sister and follow along without a stir. Instead it is Pharaoh who expresses utter consternation at Avram ( יט-יח:יב) “Why didn’t you tell me that she was your wife? Why did you say that she was your sister so that I should take her to myself as a wife?” It seems Pharaoh dislikes having his lack of mores on display.

The final example is that with Avram’s exchange with Bera, King of Sodom, one of the four kings post victory. Bera, in trying to express his gratitude to Avram for freeing his people, presents our forefather with gifts. Avram refuses most vociferously( כג:יד). Raising his hands to heaven, he says, (and this is the source for the מצוות of tefillin and that of techelet) Neither from a thread to a shoe lace, nor will I take from whatever is yours, so that you should not say, 'I have made Abram wealthy.” This outburst appears to be a knee-jerk reaction, most unlike the Avram we’ve seen to date. Previously, it may have been noted that our character assesses the situation before him with a quiet confidence, contemplatively apprising himself of what runs through others’ core, which is best demonstrated in their treatment of others. What caused Avram to react in such a manner? We are given to understand that Bera hadn’t fought. He had hidden in a cave throughout the unrest, putting his people in danger and ahead of himself. Avram reads the King’s character and in no way does he wish to be associated. Stating abhorrence in such a manner can leave little doubt with any bystander.  

Avram is only after a peaceful life in which to serve G-d. He was content and settled before being told of Lot’s abduction (Sforno on יח:יג). He had been non-confrontational when separating himself from Lot and his shepherds who were proving themselves dishonest and, in the pursuit of happiness, he had uprooted his family in search of a place to settle. Here in Lech Lecha, we are introduced to some dastardly characters, demonstrating jealously, lust, greed and the poisonous association with those that do not have basic moral upstanding, leading to disquiet Avram’s soul.

To be taken with integrity, consistency is required, using an outburst of emotion sparingly, if at all, in order to make the desired impact. That consistency needs to run, like techelet, throughout. Be it the tone of voice, the rhetoric used, the opinions themselves, it’s the prism through which one represents oneself. Here in the parsha, Avram is looking for the mental quiet in order to serve G-d and it seemed that our protagonist was very much out of our reach. With each of these examples though, Avram demonstrates the maxim: ﬠומד  דﬠ לפני אתה מי  and wishes only to walk humbly before G-d, no pedestal required.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Parashat Noach


Parashat Noach
Heshvan 4, 5772
by Michal Kohane

נח איש צדיק תמים... את האלו-הים התהלך נח

“Noah was a righteous, wholesome mensch… he walked in G-d’s company”, this is how we’re introduced to Noah (Genesis 6:9) after we’re already told that he found favor in G-d’s eyes, and we must wonder: What is wrong with this idealistic picture of a righteous, wholesome mensch who walks with G-d ? Why did G-d wait another 10 generations till Abraham for us to have our first patriarch? Why no Noah?

According to Rabbi Moshe Alshech (known as the Alshich Hakadosh (the Holy), a prominent rabbi, preacher, and biblical commentator in the latter part of the 16th century), Noah was indeed righteous but not a “Jewish righteous”. He is one who walked in G-d’s company, but a real tzadik, righteous person, walks with people. G-d may guide us how to act but our peers are humans. Noah’s righteousness was selfish. When G-d told him to build an ark because He “has had it” with this world, we don’t hear Noah arguing; we don’t hear his tormented soul, aching at the destroyed world. We see him pull out his tape measure to make sure “the length of the ark three is hundred cubits, the breadth of it fifty cubits, and the height of it thirty cubits” (6:15).

This is a big vessel (a cubit being 18-24”), and building it takes years and years, decades and decades. Throughout these 120 years, people must have stopped by; bewildered neighbors look in curiosity; kids check it out in day, and teen check it out at night when they think no one is watching. Noah just hammers away. Then he collects the appropriate animals, two of each and plenty food. The chapter ends with “Thus did Noah; according to all that God commanded him, so did he” (6:22). He doesn’t tell anyone what’s coming. He doesn’t warn the people, he doesn’t encourage repentance, he doesn’t argue with G-d to reconsider, to save the world, to do something, anything! We hear no urgency, no panic, no concern. He is fine. His family is fine. That’s all that counts.

Noah is considered a “tzadik in peltz”, a Yiddish term meaning - righteous person, dressed in fur. Said the Kotzker: when the house is cold, there are two options: warm up the house, or put on a sweater (“fur”). The former – helps all household members; the latter – solves the issue only for the one wearing the fur. Another example, is of the “tzadik” who welcomes a beggar at his door, without realizing what does the beggar want? After all, the tzadik is dressed in fur! “It’s” warm! Why is the beggar shivering?? Can’t he get his own fur??

This is why it said: righteous in his generations. Says Rashi: only during his times. Had he lived in Abraham’s generation, he would not have been considered righteous.

Then again, I wonder. Shouldn’t we give the guy a break? He’s doing a family construction project for 120 years and anyone who’s done that, knows how much fun that is; then he is spending 40 days in a closed box with countless animals? If nothing else, his wife is surely a saint! So what’s the debate?

And which is really harder? Some say, that to be righteous when all around you are evil, is much more challenging than to be righteous when others around you are on a higher level. To paraphrase Rashi: some of our teachers think this is a “wow” – to be righteous when all are evil around you! Imagine how much more righteous he’s be in a good era! While some think it’s a negative trait: yes, in his generation he was good enough, but had he lived in another time, he wouldn’t have been noticed.

I would like to suggest that the commentators asked themselves a real question. They wanted to know, they had to know, Is it good enough to be good compare to others (“righteous in his generations”), or is there an absolute level one should aim to? Many of our early commentators live in tough times. Is it good enough, they ask themselves, to be just a step up from the Romans? The crusaders? The inquisitors? Or must be we uphold our Torah given standards even when the world around us collapses into “corruption and violence”? If we just don’t torture anyone, crucify or burn anyone, is that sufficient? Or should we continue to care for the poor, give charity, be kind to the stranger, the widow, the orphan?

Most commentators agree on the latter. Further: Some accuse Noah of being showy. How did he get up each morning, walking to his building site with his tools, looking down at all those around him with an all knowing gaze, for 120 years? Then the water started coming down, people must have tried to hold on to anything floating around in an effort to survive; a piece of wood would have been great, and here is this giant vessel, the size of a football field, floating around, and, ah, Noah just shut the little window. Some add and say that the fact that Noah was showered with such lavish descriptions, is already a negative. Why should anyone need this? Let our actions define us and not what anyone is saying about us. We’re not told anyone of our forefathers was “righteous” and “wholesome” when we’re first introduced. The fact that one should need this, means he’s lacking. It’s what would be said before the “… but…”

One way or another, our sages thank Noah. They appreciate his effort but no, he won’t be included as one of our nation’s leaders in our prayer for rain, even though he should know about water more than anyone. And we won’t call ourselves Bnai Noah. We will wait patiently for next week.

Friday, October 12, 2012

V'zot HaBeracha ~ Simchat Torah


V’zot HaBeracha
Simchat Torah
Tisrei 23, 5773 ~ October 9, 2012
by Joel Ackerman

 
                It is the last day of Moses’ life, but before he accedes to G-d’s command and ascends the mountain to pass away, he has one last task to carry out - one that he has not yet done - he wishes to bless the people, the people that he has led and loved these many years.  He does this tribe by tribe.  He begins with the tribe of Reuben:

           “Y’chi Reuven v’al-yamot, v’y’chi m’tav mispar”

 which is translated in the Stone chumash as:  “May Reuben live and not die, and may his population be included in the count.”   On the one hand, this would seem to be a good blessing, or prayer for all of the tribes – not for only one.  On the other, it would seem to be an odd blessing for a tribe that was rather numerous.  Furthermore, the blessings (or prayers or wishes or prophecies) for all the other tribes are much more positive, more of a blessing than this.  Why is this given only for the tribe of Reuben?

Moses was greatly concerned about the tribe of Reuben.  Their territory would be at the southeastern corner of the Land.  It would be bordered by two potentially hostile nations, Moab and Ammon, not to mention other hostile nations not far away, such as Amalek.  It would have a common border with only one tribe, Gad, to the north.  It would be cut off from the remainder of Israel by the Dead Sea.  There was a danger that it could readily be attacked, and that it would be in poor contact with the rest of the nation.  And this location had been their own choice.

In addition, this tribe would be at the forefront of the invasion of Canaan and could suffer serious losses. 

On top of all that, this tribe tended to be impetuous.

This last thought raises the question of whether a tribe composed of many thousands of individuals might nevertheless exhibit a character that is a reflection of the character of its individual founder.  For Reuben himself tended to be impetuous.

Reuben was the first-born son of Jacob.  Because of that status, he should have received a double portion of inheritance and should have been the acknowledged leader of all of Jacob’s children – but neither was the case.  The double portion of inheritance went to Joseph; the leadership to Judah. 

Reuben was Jacob’s first-born, and the first-born of his wife Leah. She gave him the name Reuben “Ki ra’a Ad-nai b‘ani’I ki atah ye’ehavani ishi” – “Because G-d has discerned my humiliation, for now my husband will love me”.  He was the first of three sons whose name was connected to the wish that now Jacob would love her.  However, despite the Torah’s explanation, the clear meaning of the name Reuben seems be something on the order of “Look! A son!” or “Look! I can give you sons!”, and one commentator states that she meant to indicate that Reuben was a normal son, not a strange one like Esau.

We first-borns know that a lot is expected of us.  We are expected to become leaders, expected to become responsible adults, hopefully to become wise (or at least sensible).  But Reuben did not prove to be such a man.  His character can best be described as having the right intention, more or less, but terrible execution.  He would try to do the right thing to show his leadership qualities, but always seemed to flub it badly.  His actions tended to be impulsive, precipitous, wrongly directed, and over the top in nature.  On his deathbed, Jacob described him as “unstable as water.”

After Rachel’s death, Jacob moved his bed from her tent to Bilhah’s, her handmaid’s.  Reuben saw this as an affront to his mother Leah, who was Jacob’s wife, as opposed to Bilhah, who was only a concubine.  So to show his objection he either lay with her (according to the Torah) or moved Jacob’s bed into Leah’s tent (according to the Talmud).  In either case he failed to show respect for his father’s marital relations.  His act was taken in a good cause, but the act itself was precipitous and wrong-headed. 
 
When Joseph’s brothers sought to kill him, it was Reuben who suggested they throw him into a pit instead.  The Torah states that he planned to return to rescue Joseph later.  But instead of doing that as soon as he could, Reuben went off for a while, during which time the brothers sold Joseph as a slave. 

And later, when the brothers were trying to convince Jacob to let them return to Egypt with Benjamin, Reuben decided to make his move for leadership by offering to kill two of his sons if he did not bring Benjamin back.   Jacob’s reaction was to ignore this way-over-the-top idea, saying to himself: “What a meshuggener!  Instead of my losing one son, he wants me to lose two more!”

Moses similarly had to consider whether the nature of the tribe of Reuben, of wrong-headedness in their actions, was such as to put that tribe in danger of being lost to the people of Israel.   After all, it was men of that tribe who had accompanied Korach in his attempted rebellion.  And later, when the Israelites were camped at the Jordan, the tribes of Reuben and Gad came to Moses and said:   “The land where we are now is the land that will be our inheritance. For it is cattle land, and we are cattlemen!”  Moses exploded and accused them of endangering the entire people, as had the spies, by declining to enter the Land.   They responded:  “Oh no, Moses.  You have us wrong.  And just to show you that, we won’t just enter the Land with our fellow Israelites, we will go in the front ranks!  And we won’t return to our homes until everyone has received his own land!”   Does that sound like an over-the-top, impetuous reaction to you?  It certainly does to me.

From these occasions, it does seem that somehow a tribe of many thousands can exhibit a behavior reminiscent of that of its progenitor many generations in the past.   Are we seeing here some sort of undiluted DNA passing down through the generations, or are we perhaps only seeing the result of selective story-telling aimed at making a point?

In the end, the tribe later lost much of its territory to the Moabites, apparently as far back as the time of the Judge Ehud.  When Deborah called for tribes to send men to fight the Canaanites, “among the divisions of Reuben there were great searchings of heart.”   Great searchings of the heart, but no action.  And eventually this tribe was among the first to be exiled by the Assyrians (see First Chronicles 5:25-26, which states that this was caused by their taking up idolatry).

So Moses did have great cause for concern for this tribe, apparently greater than for the other tribes, and his hope, or prayer for that tribe was entirely appropriate.

As with the tribe of Reuben, we can have the propensity for putting ourselves, through our own choices, towards the edge of our people.  Wrapped up in our own objectives, we can lose sight of the need to remain connected to our people, even our own family (this has been known to happen with people who move to California).  And we can think that this situation is perfectly fine, again based on our own objectives and perhaps a tendency to be impetuous and wrong-headed. 

But those of us who are in such a situation should see a need to be connected to the rest of the Jewish people. 

Now, to be honest and above-board, I should admit that, like Ko-Ko in The Mikado, I have a little list:  individuals and groups whom I believe have shown by words and/or actions that they do not really wish to be considered part of the Jewish people  or that they do not really belong as part of our people.  And I’m tempted at times to hope that they can be excluded from membership.  But I’m inhibited from trying to act on that temptation; I suspect that many if not all of us have our own “little lists”, and if we could all act on them, there would be few of us remaining in the Tribe.

So, to be sure with a little sigh, I’m constrained to say that even with those who we clearly believe to be wrong-headed or who, for one reason or another, and perhaps by their own choice, have chosen to be on the periphery of our people (geographically, politically, philosophically, religiously, or in any other way), or are isolated - as with the tribe of Reuben, we should wish that they would live and not die, and continue to be counted among us.  And those of us who are in the center of our people need to be concerned about that, as was Moses.

Shabbat shalom.