Parshat Va'etchanan

Parshat Va'etchanan - Shabbat Nachamu
Av 13, 5673 ~ July 20, 2013
by Sheldon Schaffer

Parashat Va’etchanan is a very rich Torah portion that presents a number of themes for a drash including:  Moses pleading with God one last time to be allowed to enter the Land; a prophesy about eventual exile of the Israelites from the Land; a repetition of the Ten Commandments (with some interesting differences) and the Shema. All of this is very rich material for drashing.  However, this week  is also one of the named Shabbatot -Shabbat Nachamu (the Sabbath of Comfort), and I want to deviate from the usual practice of these mini-Drashot to concentrate on a theme from Shabbat Nachamu that I find to be a fascinating aspect to Judaism.

To understand why a Sabbath of Comfort comes at this time, we just need to look back to last Tuesday - Tisha B’Av. We all recognize that Tisha B’Av is the saddest day of the Jewish calendar.  In the three Shabbatot leading up to Tisha B’Av, the Haftorot are taken from the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah and are Haftorot of affliction or rebuke that prophesy the destruction of the Temple and the exile of the Israelites due to the failure of the people to follow the precepts of the Torah.  After these rebukes and mourning, we enter into seven Shabbatot where the Haftorot provide words of comfort from the prophets.  Shabbat Nachamu is named for the first words of the Haftorah that we read this Shabbos :  “Nachamu, nachamu  ami, omer Elohekhem", Be comforted, be comforted my people, says your God. Here, Isaiah speaks to the people to tell them that although they have been punished doubly for their sins, there will come a time when the exile will end, the future will once again be bright and the people will return to the Land.  The comfort is that God will make the return easy. God will make the road back straight, every valley shall be raised and every mountain and hill shall be made low.  The musically inclined among us will recognize that these words of Isaiah were used by George Fredrick Handle to begin his oratorio The Messiah. 

To me, the juxtaposition in our liturgy of the sadness of Tisha B’Av followed by words of comfort that we read this week brings to mind something that I see often in Jewish thought - the ability in Judaism to move rapidly from extreme sadness to comfort and even to happiness. 

Some other sadness-gladness juxtapositions include one that is closely connected in time to Tisha B’Av.  Just six days after Tisha B’Av, Tu B'Av (the 15th of Av) is considered one of the happiest days in the calendar. In tractate Tanit (30b) Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel states that the two happiest days of the year are Yom Kippur and Tu B'Av.  Many may not consider Yom Kippur to be one of the happiest days of the year. Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel bases his statement on the happiness that comes from our teshuvah that results in God’s forgiveness of our transgressions against Him during the past year. Tu B'Av is counted as one of the happiest days because of a number of happy events that tradition says happened on this date. For example, Tu B’Av is counted as the date on which the Jewish people were forgiven for the sin of the spies.   Moreover, it is recounted in the Gemara in Taanit that it was a practice on Tu B’Av that maidens would don identical dress (so as not to embarrass girls who did not have fine garments) and go to dance in the fields where bachelors would pick out prospective brides.  In Israel today, this practice is mirrored in Tu B'Av being similar to Valentine's Day.

Finally, there is another stark juxtaposition between the sad and the happy in our calendar that occurs yearly - the immediate transition from the sadness of Yom HaZikaron to the joy of Yom HaAtz'maut.  A friend of mine was in Israel during these observances this year.  He was in Rabin Square in Tel Aviv the evening of Yom HaZikaron and noted the somberness and respect of the masses of people gathered there.  A large number of the people were 20-30 year-olds. This is a group that is usually tethered to their cell phones and iPods.  He was struck by the fact that not a single cell phone rang nor did any of the people have earphone speakers in their ears.  He returned to Rabin Square the next day to find multiple bands, people dancing in the street and many, many people calling or texting with their smart phones.  He was extremely struck by this dramatic switch from the somber to the joyous.

For me, these examples illustrate the resilience of the Jewish people. Our people have been subject to tragedies for well over two thousand years, yet we are basically a hopeful group who celebrate joy and happiness throughout the year. I think that this one of the geniuses of the Jewish people which has allowed us to survive and move forward.

Finally, on Shabbat Nachamu I would like to thank the Beth Jacob community for the comfort offered to me. I feel blessed to be a part of this remarkable congregation let by very special Rabbis and look forward to continuing to move forward with you with a spirit of hope and resilience.

Gut Shabbos

Parshat Pinchas

Parshat Pinchas
Tammuz 21, 5773 ~ June 29, 2013
by Jay Koppelman

Mo Robinow was having a bad day. Over the years, he’s taken quite a few hits, but he’s always hit back hard and fast and then moved forward. This time was different. Mo was having a very, very bad day.

He’s sitting in shul next to his good friend Michael and they’re chatting in whispered conversation while the Chazzan is chanting Meshabarach. When the Chazzan is finished, the Rabbi says, “So many of you seem restless today. Your conversations have become distracting. Why not step outside for a few minutes and then come back in when you’re ready for prayer.”

Nobody gets up to leave as a hush spreads across the congregation. But then Mo turns to Michael and says, “Come outside with me so we can finish our conversation.”

Michael knows that Mo takes his davening seriously so he knows that Mo’s got to unload. So he says,  ”Sure. Come on. Let’s go.”

So they step outside under a dreary, overcast sky. It’s quite chilly and looks like it’s about to rain.  Michael starts by asking, “OK Mo. What’s going on? This isn’t like you. What’s bothering you – Helen, the kids, what?”

Mo answers, “No. Nothing like that. It’s my work. They want me to step down. I started this company nearly 40 years ago. It was my idea in the first place. Well maybe I got the suggestion from Oshman – he’s Chairman of the Board -- but nothing would have come of it if it weren’t for me driving this damn thing forward every step of the way. It’s been a long struggle. Some years it felt like we were wandering around in the desert and we’d never find our way out. Oshman was always demanding. He wanted this and he wanted that and I had to deliver. I play second fiddle to no man – but with Oshman, it’s something else. He’s one tough guy and very hard to please. Yeah, he and the board helped but I had to argue with them too.  And then there were all the naysayers and back biters and trouble makers. And now that we’ve grown into a real business and we’re just about to go public, now they want me to step down? And not just step down. They want me to retire. I can’t believe it. They want me out of the way. I lead them out of the desert and we’re finally about to cross the river and me, they want out of the way. I don’t get it.”

Michael waits quietly, but just before Mo can speak Michael says, “So what did Oshman say? That’s a pretty big decision. Did he even explain it?”

“Oh, he had an explanation alright. Oshman had all the answers. He said I had done an incredible job shepherding the company from start-up to maturity. He said I had molded a horde – or did he say a herd -- of unskilled, stiff-necked workers into an accomplished, motivated workforce. He said I was exactly the right guy at the right place at the right time. But he was blunt too. He said there were times that I angered him. And now it was time for me to step down, to turn the reins over to someone else. He said that my experience was just what was needed all these years of building but now that we were going public an entirely different set of skills would be needed. And then he said --  even now I can’t really believe he said it --  that as the public face of our company, my stutter and speaking skills would be a liability. Now that hurt. So then I asked him who would take my job. He said Josh Benin. I said, ‘Josh Benin? He’s just a kid.’  He paused for just a moment and then said, ‘Mo, are you kidding. He’s not a kid anymore. Sure, he was when you started him here, but not anymore. He’s got great energy. He’s demonstrated an aggressive leadership style. He’s got chutzpah and he makes the right public impression. You should be proud that you have so successfully developed Josh’s talents. The credit for that too goes to you. He will do you proud.’”

Michael asks, “So what did you say to that? What could you say?”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve never won arguments with Oshman before. But I knew I wasn’t going to win this one. It was a done deal. So I suggested to him that OK, Josh could take the lead, but I was still needed to run the machinery. He could sit in the driver’s seat but I was still the best at keeping everything running under the hood.”

Mo continues, “Then Oshman said, ‘Mo, you’ve earned so much loyalty and not just from your management team. Our entire workforce knows you and holds you in the highest regard. You have been, you are now and as long as you remain anywhere in this organization you will be the “go-to-guy”. No. Josh needs you to transfer every bit of your official authority to him. And, more than that, he needs you to transfer to him every last bit of the personal loyalty that you have earned over these many years. This is your last and perhaps most important remaining responsibility.  Fulfill this last responsibility and you will retire with great honor and a hefty retirement package including more than a handful of stock options. Your efforts and all that you have accomplished will not be forgotten.’”

Michael presses for more so Mo continues, “So what could I say? I take them all the way to the river’s edge and now I can’t cross? I feel dead inside – and discarded.”

Michael shapes his thoughts carefully before saying, “Mo, we’ve been friends for a long time. I think I understand how you feel. But I want to tell you that Oshman is right about a lot of things. First, he’s right that you should step aside. Next, he’s right that you have done an incredible job. And lastly he’s right that you are due and will receive, besides the retirement package and stock options, the very great honor to which you are so richly entitled. And I want to tell you something else too. I want to tell you that you are a most remarkable man. Understand that Mo. You are a very great man.”

The two of them went on for a little while longer until they were finally distracted by the chanting of Kaddish. And with that they returned quietly to the sanctuary and reverently to their prayers. 

Hashem said to Moses, “Take to yourself Joshua son of Nun, a man in whom there is spirit, and lean your hand upon him. You shall stand him before Elazar the Kohen and before the entire assembly, and command him before their eyes. You shall place some of your majesty upon him, so that the entire assembly of the Children of Israel will pay heed.”   Pinchas 27:18-20

Parshat Chukat

Parshat Chukat
Tammuz 7, 5773 ~ June 15, 2013
by Dan Cohen

Free Will & The Ritual of the Red Heifer.

(This drash is prepared in honor of the unique and fantastic contributions made to OHDS and our BJC community by Rabbi Ari Leubitz)

The fun thing about writing one of these is watching how the greats of the past and present wrestle with the topics raised in Parsha. This week’s Red Heifer Paradox was no different.

I liked this succinct summary of the need for the red heifer ritual as written by Naftali Silberberg. 

“There are many forms of spiritual impurity, of varying gravity. The most severe type of impurity is contracted through contact with a human corpse. In times past, in order to be permitted access to the Holy Temple, one who contracted this impurity needed to be purified by being sprinkled with waters mixed with the ashes of a red heifer.”

Most commentaries hover around the word “paradox” to describe this purification process.  They grapple with the idea that those who conduct the ritual become impure, but that those who benefit from the ritual become pure. 

Commentary after commentary speaks to our inability to comprehend this ritual, yet Hashem commanded it and therefore we did it.  However, are we really fulfilling the mitzvah and exercising free will if we don’t comprehend it?

In Pirkei Avos Chapter 3: Mishnah 19, we learn that:

“Everything is seen, yet the freedom of choice is given.  The world is judged with goodness, and everything depends on the majority of good deeds.”  

The Maharal shares three points in his commentary on this Mishnah that spoke to me.

First, that we all have the ability and desire to exercise free will, that the choices we make are exactly what places us in the image of G-d.   

Second, that “Everything is seen.” We benefit from the idea that G-d directs his attention to every action that is performed for his sake. 

Third, that when Hashem judges the world, it is not to find opportunities for punishment, but that instead he looks to provide opportunities for goodness.  And in creating these opportunities, Hashem gives us the window to repair the world.

So to follow are a few thoughts on free will, divine appreciation and the opportunities for goodness.

Free will.  Why do we do the things we do? 

In a commentary at Aish.com, an unknown author states there is a direct link between the two ideas embodied in the ritual.  That one who prepares the ashes from the red heifer becomes spiritually impure, but that the ashes themselves can be used to purify someone. The author goes on to highlight that in real-life, sometimes it’s the negative behaviors or decisions we make that lead us to hit rock bottom – at which point the negative behavior drives us to make a change in a positive direction.  The author said, “So the very act that was so impure is now the very same act that allows you make a real change.” 

Change is a choice. So too is the enactment of the Red Heifer ritual. It is a choice to perform an act that may cause (temporary) impurity, to help someone else achieve a reparative state of purity.  In a way, the parsha gives us the instructions to make a “comeback” from our most impure state.  With that knowledge, there is nothing we can’t achieve spiritually if we make choices with our eyes open.

Which then begs the questions…is anyone paying attention?  Does that matter? 

Appreciation by Hashem.

Free will is our uniquely human challenge and opportunity. The Maharal in the Pirkei Avos commentary connects these ideas.

He says that if Hashem withdrew a person’s free choice, that would undermine the divine nature of mankind, which finds its essence in that very same free choice.  However, if Hashem undermines a person’s ability to succeed in doing evil, he would undermine the system of nature, a system he created to run by consistent and predictable rules.

So, what is our role?  I would suggest that we are the essential spark that breathes life and opportunity into the natural outputs of the world.

Certainly, nature’s presence can be found in the fact that red heifers don’t come along every day.  They are a rare but natural occurrence.  Hashem has set forth natural biological systems that allow this wheel to start spinning.  

However, it is all of us and our free will that choose to see and act on this anomaly.  We can, with instruction from
G-d, follow a process to cleanse the spiritually impure and elevate a fellow member of the community. It is this elevation – from object to action – that the Maharal says merits special attention from Hashem.

So, if we can choose to partake in this ritual, and in doing so, merit special divine attention, do we ever really know why this specific action is so important?

Opportunities for goodness (and maybe transcendence). 

When it comes to wrapping up their red heifer analysis, many of the commentaries end with a theme of “trust in Hashem.”  Just trust him.  He knows all and we never can. 

These commentaries cite everyone from King Solomon to Job to Moshe saying to the effect that sometimes we humans just can’t understand.  Honestly, that’s a tough one in our post-postmodern world.

I took a measure of solace in a blink-and-you-miss-it line in the Stone Chumash in verse 19:9 and the words “It is for purification.” 

It’s the commentary and idea that the ashes are not to be used for personal benefit, but rather for community benefit (per Rashi). Rashi even states in the same commentary that those who use the ashes for personal reasons must make another (!) sacrifice to atone. While the red heifer is a challenging ritual, it also requires those who participate focus on the greater good, not personal gain. 

The Maharal says G-d created all of the mitzvot to give us a chance to repair the world – and I read it to mean this is true even when they defy rational comprehension. The restorative power of the red heifer ritual, to transform a fellow Jew from an impure state to one of ritual purity, is astounding.  Yes it defies logic, but in some ways it binds us to each other as Jews and gives us a roadmap to reach a higher plane together.  

Shabbat Shalom.

(For what it’s worth, does the “Red Heifer Paradox” sound like a lost Tom Clancy novel?)

Parashat Korach

Parashat Korach

Sivan 30, 5773 ~ June 8, 2013
by Joel Ackerman

The case of the man who disappeared during the night

 

          A famous case of Sherlock Holmes was that of the dog that did not bark during the night.  This week we consider the case of the man who disappeared during the night and did not appear in the morning – On ben Peleth.

          Parshat Korah begins with the description of an attempted revolution, or combination of several revolutions, against the leadership of Moses and Aaron.  The revolutionaries were (a) Korah, one of Moses’ first cousins, (b) Dathan and Abiram, sons of Eliav, and On ben Peleth, three members of the tribe of Reuben (probably along with other Reubenites) and (c) 250 other prominent Israelites.  They had, among them, several complaints or objections to the way matters had become.  They asserted that Moses and Aaron had taken too much power on themselves.   They objected to the elevation of the Levites to positions where they would receive tithes – instead of the tribe of Reuben, who should have been entitled to this since their progenitor was Jacob’s first-born, and they objected in general to the way Moses and Aaron had been leading.

          In any event, in the beginning there were three Reubenite leaders involved – Dathan, Abiram and On.  Shortly after these objections were raised, Moses summoned Dathan and Abiram, but did not summon On.  And the next day when Moses confronted the revolutionaries (and the earth opened up and swallowed the leaders), On again is not mentioned.  No explanation is given for his absence from one day to the next.  He disappeared from this account, and from the Torah.  His name is never mentioned again.

          The Midrash fills the gap by extolling the virtues of On’s wife.  It maintains that when On came home after the initial confrontation and told his wife of his involvement, she replied “What benefit do you gain from this?  If Moses prevails, you will serve him, and if Korah prevails, you will serve him”.  On was said to answer that he had promised to join the group and could not go back on his word.  In response, holds the Midrash, his wife got him drunk, put him to bed and prevented anyone from coming to talk to him by sitting in the front of their tent with her hair uncovered so that no man would approach to try to convince On to stay the course.  On thus switched from “Comes the revolution….” to “Start the revolution without me.”

          A nice story, I suppose, but it makes On ben Peleth, supposedly a leader of his tribe, out to be rather stupid.  Why should he accept this position of his wife, and indeed why should she speak to him in this way at all?  After all, it was possible that under Korah as a leader some improvements could be made in the lives of the people, and they desperately needed their lives improved.  At this point the Israelites were totally distraught.  They had sent out spies to check the land of Canaan.  The spies were all responsible men, leaders of their tribes, men selected for this mission based on a history of intelligent and responsible conduct and good judgment.  They had returned – and in the opinion of many, had told the truth!  The land was wonderful, but the people were too strong for the Israelites. 

And then the people felt that G-d had turned on them.  He had refused to acknowledge the truth told by the spies and had condemned all the adults to die in the desert.  And when they then tried to adhere to G-d’s command to invade Canaan, He had not joined them.  He had not given them a second chance.  This G-d, who had said that He wanted them to be His people, was just too hard on them, and Moses went along with His decision.  He did not (as he had done at the time of the Golden Calf) plead strongly enough with G-d to change His mind about the people.  And they were quite familiar with pagan gods, who could change their minds on a whim about something important to humans.  Perhaps some felt that this G-d was not so different from the others – that they could not trust Him to always be on their side.  Some said that a new leader was really needed – one who could improve their situation - perhaps even convince G-d to give them another chance.  So why not Korah for leader? 

And perhaps the Midrash only summed up the conversation.  It ought to have been longer.  Suppose that On had made the arguments that I have just mentioned.  What would his wife say in response?  For one thing, she could point out, that even if Korah would be a better leader, On would still have a problem – Dathan and Abriram.  They were brothers; they would unite against On to keep him from gaining any benefit.  It would be two against one, always.  On would get nowhere from participating in the revolution.  And perhaps she could remind him of all the good that G-d had done for the Israelites, beginning with the plagues and the Exodus.  And Korah was clearly a demagogue – one could not trust him to paint a true picture of the situation, and could not trust him to carry out some of the extreme promises he may have made to On and others (the Midrash holds that Korah really only wanted a high position for himself and did not aim to benefit anyone else).  And Dathan and Abiram claimed that Egypt had been a land of milk and honey, but On’s wife may have been able to point out that this was hardly the case – had On forgotten the backbreaking work done for long hours?

If On could see clearly, he would have seen that this was the wrong revolution to join.  And perhaps he did see that, despite promises made to him, which was the reason that he “disappeared”.  But the Midrash indicates the contrary – it describes that despite his wife’s arguments, On adhered to his initial position – or perhaps notwithstanding his position of leadership in the tribe he was weak-willed.   So his wife took what she felt was the necessary action.  On was distraught and confused.  She said “have a little schnapps to settle your stomach” and kept feeding him the drink until he was out of action.  And thus she saved him from the terrible fate that occurred to his co-revolutionaries.  How do we know that On adhered to his original position?  The Torah does not credit On with dropping out of the revolution.  No further mention of him is made at all.  He just disappears from sight.

What is the lesson to be learned here?  It’s not often so clear when a charismatic individual should be followed, and when not.   How can one clearly recognize when a charismatic person is acting only for his or her own interests and not, as he/she purports, for the general good?  How to recognize a demagogue who exaggerates matters to paint an inaccurate picture of the present and the future? 

And finally, if your husband, boyfriend, partner, etc. is acting in a way that you believe to be too stubborn, or even dangerous, should you temporarily incapacitate him until he comes to what you believe should be his senses?  Sounds just a bit drastic to me.

          When reporters on television cannot decide what to say, they like to use the cliché, “There are more questions than answers”.  Not here, however.  As is typically the case with us Jews, when one reads the commentaries, there are many more answers than there are questions.

          Enjoy solving the mystery of On’s disappearance.  Shabbat shalom.

Parashat Beha'alotchah

Sivan 16, 5773 ~ May 25, 2013
by Diane Whitten-Vile

Beha’Alosecha 8:1-12:16

There is a joke I’ve heard many times about a group of Jewish ladies having lunch in a restaurant.   The waiter comes up to the table and says “Is anything all right?”  Implying of course, that nothing is ever ok.  Jews complain.  A lot.  There are many jokes of this nature.  Is this anti-Semitism; a bad stereotype?  I’ll leave that to you to answer.

But complaining plays a big role in this week’s parsha.  It seems that this parsha contains maybe one of  (if not THE)  worst crisis of Moshes life.  Incited by the “mixed multitude”, the Israelites complain about…what else, the food.  Remember the joke told by Woody Allen in Annie Hall?  A group of Jews are having lunch at a restaurant and one person says to the other one, “the food here is terrible” and the other person says, “yes, and such small portions”

The Israelites say “If only we had meat to eat.  We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost, also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, etc.  But now we have lost our appetite: we never see anything but this manna”.  It was quite an appalling show of ingratitude, but certainly not the first time the Israelites had complained.  In Marah, they complained that the water was too bitter.  They protested the lack of food. Later, at Refidim, they grumbled at the absence of water, prompting Moshe to say to Hashem, “What am I to do with these people? They are ready to stone me”

The episode in this week’s Torah portion-at the place now known as Kivrot Hataavah-was not the first challenge Moshe faced.  However, Moshes reaction this time is filled with much more despair.  He tells Hashem he cannot carry all these people by himself, the burden is too heavy.  He actually tells Hashem, if this is how you are going to treat me, put me to death.    He prays to die.  Moshe had faced and overcome many difficulties before.  Why the nervous breakdown now? 

Equally interesting is Hashems reaction.  He tells Moshe to bring him 70 elders who are known as leaders and officials.   Hashem says “I will come down and speak with you, and I will take of the spirit that is on you and put the spirit on them.  They will help you carry the burden”   In what way would the appointment of elders address the crisis? I believe Moshe already had a group of men, representatives, officals-who would help Moshe.  This idea of “assistants” was suggested to him by his father in law.   A suggestion Moshe followed.

Rabbi Moshe Lichtenstein, in his book about Moshe’s leadership, suggest that the reason Moshe was in deeper despair has to do with the timing of the complaints.  Due to the giving of the Torah and the construction of the Tabernacle, the Israelites are turned from an undisciplined mass of fugitive slaves into a nation whose constitution is the Torah.  They are no longer what they were before.  So, looking back, maybe one could forgive their earlier complaints.   But now, they had gone through such a transformative experience that shaped them as a nation.   So, for Moshe it must have seemed that not miracles, deliverances, nor revelations at Sinai could change these people.  It’s possible this explains the depth of his despair.

With the 70 elders, Hashem took “the spirit that is on you and put it on them” so that Moshe could see the difference he hade made to one group, the elders.  He was able to see that the 70 elders had internalized his spirit and made his message their own. Moshe needed nothing more.  He didn’t really need their help.  What he got was a transparent glimpse of how his spirit had communicated itself to them.  For a brief moment, Hashem let Moshe see how his “spirit” had entered this group of elders, and lifted them to the level of prophetic vision.  Then, Moshe knew he had a made a difference.  He could see that others would continue his work after he was gone.

In speaking to a dear friend who lost her husband last week end in a tragic car accident, we spoke of his positive effect on my life and the lives of everyone he touched while he was alive.  How tragic also that I kept that sense of gratitude and love to myself, instead of sharing it with my great friend Steve who is now gone.

Moshe’s experience reminds me of the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”.   Jimmy Stewart gets to glimpse how he had changed the world and how his life had made such a difference in others lives.  Hopefully, in dark moments of wondering if we are doing anything to make a difference, we can understand that the good we do will live on after us, perhaps in ways we can’t even imagine now.

Parshat Bechukotai

Rain, Materialistic Blessings and Fulfillment:
The Torah Portion of Bechukotai

Iyar 24, 5773 ~ May 4, 2013
by Michal Kohane

 

Did I mention? I love Hebrew! Maybe not at first site, and not when I studied for matriculation exams in language and grammar, but ever since, things just get better. And the longer we get to hang around together, the deeper our connection.

Hebrew has an amazing system of roots that shed light on each other. Consider this: kaved means heavy, while kavod is honor, and indeed, depicts someone that has “weight” – in their own eyes, and in the eyes of those around them; a word which stands in contradiction to kal meaning light and klala - curse, or as befits the opposite of “weighted one” - taking someone lightly. 

Rain in the Torah is often used as a key blessing. We probably know it best from the second paragraph of the Shma, and we will also see it in this week’s parasha, the last parasha of the Book of Leviticus. Bechukotai deals with the “blessing and curses”, also known as consequences: if we do good, good things will happen, and if not – a much longer and more detailed list of bad things will happen.

אם בחוקותי תלכו – If you walk in accordance with My law… the word for law here is “chukot”, usually meaning laws for which we can find no simple reason other than “kdusha”, holiness. Examples might include kashrut, sha’atnez and even Shabbat. For those we need great faith because, at the end of the day, those are the ones which have no rational explanation. Luckily about these laws the Torah just says here – “If you walk…” which according to some means, if you just get on the journey, it will count in your favor. You might not get all of them perfectly right, but at least start on the path in the right direction.

ונתתי גשמיכם בעתם – the first reward for doing the right thing is timely rain. Rain in Israel, especially of ancient times and still today is critical. Unlike Egypt – and the two are often put in contrast to each other – the Land of Israel has very limited resources, and those are all dependent on the Heavens. There are no daily tropical showers, great lakes, or man-made system of canals that ensure year-round steady flow. On the other hand, there are also no gods fighting with each other, expressing their capricious nature, oblivious to the humans far below. According to the Torah, rain is a reflection of a good relationship between the Children of Israel, their G-d and the way of life He prescribes to his People.

There is a midrash on Psalms 73:3 where it says: יִשְּׂאוּ הָרִים שָׁלוֹם לָעָם וּגְבָעוֹת בִּצְדָקָה – “mountains will bring peace to the nation, and the hills – tzedaka”. But how can that be? Do mountains bring peace and hills bring tzedaka? It is said: where there is no rain and little fruit, there is strife in the world. How so? One person might enter a vineyard of his fellow man in order to satisfy his hunger. The vineyard’s owner would be surprised and angry at the intruder, thus they begin to quarrel. Yet, while there is lots of rain, there is food, things are good and there is peace. Therefore the promise for “rain in its season” is a promise for peace in the word.

The same root used for the word גשם – geshem is also part of gashmiyut – materialism, and hitgashmut – fulfillment or self-realization. To me this is an extension of the original text that expresses two important, intertwined ideas: the first is that blessings express themselves in the material world around us, and I like the idea that the spiritual and the physical are closely connected, and that the physical is a reflection of other, deeper, hidden occurrences. It also reminds and teaches us that there is no sin in being affluent or living well, as long as we remember where are blessings are coming from and our tzedaka obligations.

And what if we do what we perceive as “the right thing” and there is no visible “reward”, “outcome” or physical benefits for us doing so, for after all, there is no guarantee for those? That’s where the second point comes in: more than walking in the right path is a recipe for receiving material goods, it is a journey for self-fulfillment and realization. Thus we can read the text like this: embarking on the journey, davka (especially) in dealing with those G-d given commandments we don’t necessarily fully comprehend, has the potential of bringing us closer to our own true self-fulfillment.

Parashat Emor

Parashat Emor

Iyar 17, 5773 ~ April 27, 2013
by Marshall Schwartz

Often, the Torah tells us the same thing – or rather almost the same thing – more than once.  After all, the Ten Commandments appear in both Parshat Yitro and Parshat VaEthanan.  In today's parsha, Emor, we have one of three lists of haggim that are presented in the Torah, each with its own variations on the same theme.  And the differences between our lists – and other texts – give rise to quite a few questions, but very few answers.   

Half of Parshat Emor – from the middle of the third aliyah to the end of the sixth – has the nearly-unique distinction of being read on Shabbat and hag four times a year:  not only when we read Emor, but also on the first two days of Sukkot and the second day of Pesah.  The  contents of this section makes it clear why we read it on these days – it contains the first of the three lists of holidays.

Similarly, the end of Parshat Pinchas contains an even more complete list of such days;    more complete because its main function is to spell out the full order of sacrifices for each day, and therefore each day of Sukkot is listed separately (since the number of sacrificial bulls changes from day to day).   These paragraphs are read as the maftir portions on each of the hagim (or as the fourth aliyah on hol ha'moed Pesach and Sukkot).  

Finally, there is one other Torah section that contains a list of holy days.  It, too, is read four times a year:  the last aliyah of Parshat Re'eh, which is chanted on the last day of Pesah, the last day of Shavuot, and Shemini Atzeret.  But this aliyah mentions only the Shalosh Regalim.

There are many similarities between the three versions, but some marked differences as well. In Emor, the description of each holiday begins with an introductory verse, followed by the date of the hag (or, as is the case with Shavuot and Shemini Atzeret, a way to calculate the date).  Interspersed with these descriptions are the instructions for counting the omer, and the commandment not to glean the corners of your field (but leave the gleanings for the poor). Most of the discussion concerns the nature of each special day, with occasional and inconsistent references to their associated sacrifices.  In Pinchas, every paragraph (except the first two, which list the sacrifices for Shabbat and Rosh Hodesh) begins explicitly or implicitly with the date, and then follows with the exact makeup of that day's additional sacrifice.  Finally, the calendar in Re'eh omits dates altogether, barely hints at sacrifices, and ignores Shemini Atzeret entirely. 

If these were the only variations that begged for explanations, we would have plenty to delve into.   Pinchas speaks for itself – it's simply a menu of all the additional sacrifices for the year. Its nature suggests that a more in-depth look at the holidays is also needed – and this week's parsha fits that bill quite nicely.  So why is a foreshortened list included in Re'eh?   If you would propose that Devarim contains many recapitulations (as with the Ten Commandments), so that another holiday calendar does not seem out of place, then why are Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Shemini Atzeret not included?  I have no answer.  I can only raise the question – one of several such questions I will pose.

But we need to go beyond these three sections of Torah.  There is one additional in-depth discussion of one (and only one) holiday in our text, and we read it last week.   The beginning of Parshat Acharei Mot gives a detailed description of the formal ritual of the Kohen Gadol on Yom Kippur (a description elaborated on significantly in Mishna Yoma).  Why is Yom Kippur given this unique treatment among all the holy days – a long, self-contained essay with no reference to any other hag, far more detailed and elaborate than the Torah provides for any other holy day?   And why, uniquely in Acharei Mot, is the date of the hag given at the end of the description, after 28 detailed verses, rather than at the beginning (as in Emor and Pinchas, or not at all, as in Re'eh)?  Two more questions without answers.

Finally, I'd like to look briefly at the incompletely understood holiday of Shemini Atzeret.  Many commentators note that the choice of prefixes in Pinchas indicate that Shemini Atzeret is formally separate from Sukkot, not a part of the seven-day festival that immediately precedes it.   The section on Sukkot begins, “On the fifteenth day of the seventh month,” going on to list the sacrificial menu for the first day.   The paragraph for day two begins, “And on the second day”;  for the third day, “And on the third day”; and so on.  Until we get to the eighth day, which begins, “On the eighth day” – note that the prefix vav, meaning “and”, is missing; hence the conclusion that Shemini Atzeret is entirely separate.  Then how do these darshanim explain today's kriah?  Lev. 39 reads, “But on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, when you gather in the crop of the land, you shall celebrate Hashem's festival for seven days;  the first day shall be a day of rest, and the eighth day is a day of rest.”   That pesky vav has inserted itself into our parsha, meaning “and”.   So is Shemini Atzeret considered separate in today's reading, or is it joined to Sukkot by a vav?  Yet another question in search of an answer.

And one final issue regarding Shemini Atzeret, which I find rather mystifying.  After Solomon  dedicates the Temple in a seven-day celebration which took place during Sukkot, we are told, “On the eighth day, he sent the people off, and they blessed the king” [I Kings 8:66].  But if the eighth day was Shemini Atzeret, when no work was permitted, how could Solomon have sent the people home?   This dissonance is compounded by what we are told in the Book of Chronicles: “At that time, Solomon instituted the celebration for seven days, and all Israel was with him, a very great congregation, from the Approach of Hamath until the Brook of Egypt.  On the eighth day they celebrated an assembly, for they celebrated the dedication of the altar for seven days and the festival [of Sukkot] for seven days.  On the twenty-third day of the seventh month [Solomon] sent the people off to their homes, joyous and good-hearted...” [II Chron. 7:8-10].   So what really happened – was Shemini Atzeret celebrated when the Temple was first dedicated, or not?  One last question without an answer.

Parashat Tazria-Metzora

Parashat Tazria-Metzora

Iyar 3, 5773 ~ April 13, 2013
by Neska


Dedicated to the Birth Days of Barbara B, Sheila D and Neska N

In Memory of the Life of a Grand Old Dame - Hilde Korr

"Sticks and stones may break my bones

But words will never hurt me" OH YEAH?

Metzorim = people who speak lashon hara

* They are excluded from being inside the camp but must move outside the 'city limits'. And for some, even that is not far enough. They must move to waaaaay outside the city limits and are truly isolated. . This short DVORT (u laughing Rabbi JD?) is about two very different types of metzorim.

Meriam - is speaking with her brother Moshe, with Aaron at her side and lashon hara is spoken. What? Miriam speaking with an evil tongue?

In the Haftarah, four men are sitting outside the city and may not enter as they have spoken lashon hara and are metzorim.

Let's take Miriam first.

The Torah warns us to be careful about speaking lashon hara and then immediately proceeds to say "remember what happened to Miriam when...." In Rav Zef Leff's book Out Looks and Insights, he suggests that Miriam did NOT sin; she did not speak malice, she was talking to none other than her brother, Moshe (with their other brother, Aaron), having a family conversation, making certain that Moshe and Zipporah were all right. But a "tam", like "hevel", must have been spoken. And, as further proof that nothing "evil" was said, Moshe asks Hashem NOT to forgive her, but to heal her. And the Jewish community waits with her for a week, just as she waited for Moshe beside the river to see what would happen to him, just as she rushed to get Yocheved to nurse him, just as she loved him so much she wanted to make sure that he and his wife were ok. It was out of concern for their marital relationship that she spoke to Moshe. And it was out of love for Miriam that the Jewish people waited with her.

Four men are sitting outside the city borders and are speaking with one another; they have not been cast into isolation, but must have done some negative speaking because they have definitely been cast out of the city. They are sitting and talking and get around to talking about how hungry they are and make a decision, not to try and correct what it was that they said so they could return to a Jewish life within the city, (resisting teshuva?) but decide to go to the Aramean camp to see if they can find some food and if not, they will simply die. Better, it seems, than to repent. That they have no impetus to repent/return. They feel themselves too far gone, perhaps. As they come to the camp, they notice that it is quiet, and upon searching, they realize that the people in the camp seem to have just evaporated. No one is there--BUT food and clothing and other items are just laying about, as if the people have fled. Which, indeed they have. So they sit and they eat and they horde some of the wealth they find and they come back and sit and eat and...suddenly, one of them says....This is not right. We need to go to the City and tell the gate keeper of the circumstances here - our people need to know.

Ahhh....what a miraculous turn of events. How beautifully has Hashem set this up so that not only the metzorim return to civilization but the Jews have what they need to survive.

Sometimes Hashem remains anonymous.

So what about in our times? If tzaaras were still in existence, we would probably ALL (or most of us) be sitting outside the camp and, perhaps we are. Driving home after the first two days of Pesach, having had a fulfilling experience with friends, having sang and sang and eaten and eaten and learned and learned....I not only spoke lashon hara in the car but I spoke it in an angry manner, I mean angry. No white spots on my skin. No white hairs. BUT for the rest of the chag (clear thru Tuesday night) my body was out of sync. I was having tremelo's; my body was vibrating. . I could not sleep more than an hour. I was talking out loud to myself and so much so that I actually asked myself out loud, why are you doing this body? And I couldn't figure it out and I was afraid. And, as I was preparing for this 'dvor' it suddenly dawned on me. No, I didn't have white spots on my skin, I didn't have white hairs appear. But my whole body was covered with the effects of having spoken lashon hara. And once that dawned on me, all I could do was thank Hashem for being so Present and so lenient. When Joel asked us to sign up for a parasha for this spring, I could have chosen any parasha to study and drash on....but Hashem had the cure before I had the 'illness'. And I chose Tsar'as and Metzorah.

Hilde Korr, ztl, strongly in my mind. What a beautiful woman, matriarch, lady. Her gentleness will so be missed. I was introduced to the Korr Mishpacha when I first heard the Kohanim in our shul dulchan the priestly blessing. I remember gasping. With my eyes closed, I was certain I was hearing a strong connection with American Indian chanting. And I felt that way every time Mr. Korr, whose lead voice is the strongest, and the rest of the Kohanim chant. Which brought me to thinking about the parallels of the American Indian Medicine Man (who would look and lay hands and prescribe herbs) and with the Kohanim who are the only ones who can diagnose tsa'aras and who can treat it. (I actually called the American Dermatological Association to see if they had ever done a study of how many dermatologists were Kohanim. But alas and alack.) And perhaps, who knows, perhaps the American Indian is a lost tribe of Israel. Who knows.

Hashem does.

Shabbat Shalom