Parshat Toldot 5775 (Alex Hart)

The episode of Esav relinquishing his birthright has deep repercussions and bears revisiting.

Though the review is harsh, Robert Alter (The Art of Biblical Narrative, 1981) writes, “the episode makes clear that Esau is not spiritually fit to be the vehicle of divine election, the bearer of the birthright of Abraham’s seed. He is altogether too much the slave of the moment and of the body’s tyranny to become the progenitor of the people promised by divine covenant that it will have a vast historical destiny to fulfill. His selling of the birthright in the circumstances described here is in itself proof that he is not worthy to retain the birthright.”

A most damning review; the poor guy’s parched and famished, surely many of us would have struggled to rein in our emotions at that point? The midrash tells us that Esav had not just spent the morning singularly focused on the hunt but had had an action packed day, including murder and immorality.

Jacob has instinctive understanding of his brother as seen in his wording on approaching his father, Chapter 27, verse 20, in response to Isaac’s surprise to be presented with a meal so soon, “Because the Lord your G-d granted me good fortune.” Intertextually, we may be reminded of the wicked son’s words as they appear in the haggadah, ‘What is this service to you? To you and not to himself.’ He holds G-d in contempt, providing clear distinction with his words, suggesting Esav too, were it to be him that spoke, has scant regard for the path Isaac has attempted to impart.

                                                

As we read the parsha, it becomes plain that the review is well-placed.

It is indicative that on three separate occasions, the Torah comments on the choice of Esav’s spouses, taken from the Hittite tribe.

26:34: ‘When Esau was forty years old, he took to wife Judith daughter of  Beeri the Hittite and Basemath daughter of Elon the Hittite and they were a source of bitterness to Isaac and Rebekah.’

27: 46: ‘Rebekah said to Isaac, “I am disgusted with my life because of the Hittite women. If Jacob marries a Hittite woman like these, from among the native women, what good will life be to me?”’

28: 8: ‘Esau realized that the Canaanite women displeased his father Isaac.’

We learn that the each word in the Torah has its place. Syntactically for emphasis, the Torah repeats words but rarely do we see three inclusions. It can only suggest that the Hittite culture was of such a nature as to be kept at arm’s length; proving unsettling to the soul.

Esav however is slow to catch on. In contrast, in Chayei Sarah Avraham was quick to understand the Hittite tribe. Not only does he ensure a firm financial transaction for the Cave of Machpelah, but also that his payment has Hittite witnesses (23:16).

Furthermore, in parshat Acharei Mot (Vayikra 18:24 – 25) we read that, in reference to the Hittites, G-d says, ‘…the nations that I am casting out before you defiled themselves. Thus the land became defiled…’

 A word on Hittite laws:

“‘The husband, if he catches a man with his wife, is justified under Hittite law in killing them, but only in the heat of the moment.’ Clause 198 indicates that if he stops to think about it, he must bring the two before the king for the court’s decision. Interestingly, he cannot request that only one of the adulterers be killed. It’s an all or nothing decision. The king can override the angry husband’s decision and spare both.’” (Imparati, Fiorella. “Private Life Among the Hittites.” In Civilizations of the Ancient Near East, 1995.)

Knee-jerk reactions were perfectly permissible under Hittite Law.

As Jews, we hold ourselves to a higher standard; we should be thinking through the ramifications of our actions. As a light unto the nations, we can ill afford to be impulsive and instead consider the long term implications.

Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch writes (Horev, Chukim, Chapter 67), “Do you wish to kill the Divine in you for a moment’s pleasure?”

Isaac favored Esav because, ‘he had a taste for game’, literally, כי ציד בפיו, game was in his mouth, suggesting a running obsession. Rabbi Binyomin Forst (The Laws of Kashrut, 1999) writes, “Animal matter carries the nature of the animal and may be harmful to the spirit of man by influencing and strengthening his own animal traits.” The Zohar refers to eating as a ‘time of war’, when man, who rules over the animal kingdom, can sustain his soul and eating, more than any other mitzvah, can integrate these two opposing forces. The sages teach us that by injecting an element of Torah at each meal, we connect the two worlds. Yet it seems that Esav has no wish to subdue the animal within himself. 

Psalm 128 describes a family’s ideal table:

“Your wife shall be like a fruitful vine within your house;

Your sons like olive saplings around your table.”

The distinction in the text’s cadence between Esav’s ויאכל וישת ויקם וילך, “he ate and drank and he rose and went away” and that of the tehilim above, stand in stark contrast. The olive saplings take strength from the root of the father, whilst the wife as a vine, is interpreted by Malbim as follows, “though it stands in the innermost parts of the house, it raises its branches until it reaches the roof, and shades from there the entire house.” Both require nurture. (permit me a brief aside as I recall that beautiful home in Riverdale Ave, Dublin, named by my dear late Saba זצ"ל, ‘Carmeinu’ – our vineyard). In comparison, Esav lives for instant gratification, with neither integrity nor respect for that which preceded him and the Torah, in including his abhorrent behavior here in Toldot, serves as instructive for the next generations.

I consider the many occasions on which Neil and I sat at the same table growing up, each of us noting the mores along which life should be trodden. To quote Rav Hirsch on this your 37^th birthday, כ״ח בְּחֶשְׁוָן, “And when you count days and months and years and engrave ‘one’ upon the tree of your life you are not acting capriciously; you have, that one day, one month or one year, really run through one period of your life and you now stand ready for a new period.” Happy Birthday.

Parshat Chayei Sara 5775 (Zev Ross)

Parshat Chayei Sarah begins with the passing of Sarah, at the age of 127 years. Avraham secures a burial site for Sarah by purchasing Maarat Hamachpelah from Ephron the Hittite. The text explicitly mentions that Avraham paid 400 silver shekels. The Gemara (Bava Metzia 87a) notes that each of Avraham’s shekels was actually 2500 ordinary shekels - and thus Avraham actually paid one million shekels to Ephron for the burial site. Immediately following the burial of Sarah, Avraham dispatches his loyal servant, Eliezer, to find a wife for Yitzchak. Eliezer establishes criteria for finding a wife for Yitzchak. When Eliezer goes to the well outside the city of Nachor, and Rivka offers him water and offers water to his camels, Eliezer is confident that Hashem has intervened to bring him the future wife of Yitzchak. He brings Rivka to meet Yitzchak and they fall in love and get married. Meanwhile, Avraham marries Ketura (or as Reb Yehuda explains - remarries Hagar) and has six more kids. Eventually he dies at age 175 years and is buried in Maarat Hamachpelah next to Sarah by Yishmael and Yitzchak.

Getting back to what happens by the well; Rivkah draws water for herself, her camels, Eliezer, and all ten of his camels. That's a lot of water and an extraordinary task for Rivka, and she eagerly performs these acts of chesed. While she performs these tasks so well, it is interesting to note that when Eliezer takes her to meet Yitzchak, she practically falls off her camel - vatipol me’al hagamal (Bereishit 24:64). If you read the English translation of Rashi for that pasuk, it says that she fell off her camel toward the ground, but didn't touch the ground. Wait, what? It turns out that she slipped on her camel, but stayed on. Doesn't that make more sense? Why would the same woman who so capably gave water to Eliezer and all his camels suddenly fall off her camel when she sees Yitzchak for the first time? Since Rashi didn't answer it for me, I had to figure it out for myself (what did I ever do to you, Rashi? :'( ). I think that Rivka found Yitzchak to be so handsome and attractive, that when she looked at him, she practically fell of her camel. Perhaps even more important however, was Yitzchak’s impression of Rivka. We read in the text that when Yitzchak brought Rivka into Sarah’s tent and loved Rivka, vayinachem Yitzchak acharei imo (Bereishit 24:67) - he was consoled/comforted regarding the loss of his mother. Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch in his commentary on this pasuk remarks that ‘nothing more glorious has ever been said’. Ramban maintains that Yitzchak loved Rivka for her righteousness and good deeds and that these are the criteria on which the Torah bases the love between husband and wife.

May our acts of chesed and the righteousness of the Jewish people continue to enhance our relationships with each other and with HaShem.

Shabbat shalom!

Zev Ross

Parshat Vayeira 5775 (Rabbi Ari Leubitz)

15 Cheshvan 5775 / November 8, 2014

By: Rabbi Ari Leubitz

PARSHAT VAYEIRA

In this week’s Torah portion, we are introduced to Abraham, an iconoclast who shatters the idols of his father and brothers; a visionary who intuited ethical monotheism and most significantly, gives birth to our faith, which offers a road map for humanity to flourish. It is in large part because of Abraham that God desires to enter into a brit, a covenant, with him and his progeny, the Jewish people.  

After all of Abraham’s contributions to humanity, Abraham is set to receive the most splendid of honors: a one-on-one meeting with God. This was the moment that God showed his gratitude to Abraham, וַיֵּרָא אֵלָיו  (and God appeared). And that’s it. It is left to our imagination to envision how awe-inspiring this experience must have been for Abraham because --the Torah is Silent.  

• Why are there so many verses in this week’s Torah reading that detail the hospitality of Abraham, while God’s Divine revelation stands in isolation?

• What makes Abraham depart from the presence of God, without leaving an inspirational message for us on this climax of his spiritual journey?   

Having a God experience, a spiritual moment, or feeling God’s presence can often be just another way we indulge our own desires. Some people long to have material wealth, while others prefer spiritual riches. Both can be forms of satisfying our desires.

However, unlike a God encounter, a relationship with God fills a person with a profound sense of "responsibility.” Accountable people are "able" to "respond.” Such people are aware of themselves and those around them. Entering into a relationship with God increases the love and sensitivity towards the needs of others.

Increasing our sensitivity to the needs of others is the difference between a God encounter and a God relationship. Martin Buber - a 19th century Austrian-born Israeli Jewish philosopher - tells a personal story about how he became more attuned to the needs of others, an event which served as the catalyst for his spiritual ambitions.

One day while Buber was absorbed in a mystifying God experience, he heard a knock at his door. Tearing himself away from his spiritual ecstasy, he opened the door. There stood a stranger, who obviously wished to be invited in. Although Buber did usher the man inside, the stranger sensed that he had come at an awkward time.  Feeling uncomfortable, he was unable to communicate to Buber, so he apologized for disturbing him and quickly departed. Some time later, Buber heard that a tragedy befell this man. He realized that this man had come to him with something pressing on his mind. Buber admitted that he really was not there for this troubled man because he was absorbed and entranced in a God experience. This painful realization helped Buber discover the sharp difference between having a God experience and being in a relationship with God.

The Torah demonstrates this when Avraham is sitting outdoors by his tent when God approaches him. At the same time he realizes there are three “men” approaching. He interrupts his meeting with God to run to invite the men to stop for a little respite and prepares a banquet.

Responsible people - like Abraham - are those who are "able" to "respond.” The ability to respond to the needs of others is God's gift to humanity. The power of covenant is expressed when we become God's partner in caring for this world and each other.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Ari Leubitz

Head of School, Oakland Hebrew Day School

Parshat Lech Lecha 5775 (Michal Kohane)

Lech Lecha

             עשרה נסיונות נתנסה אברהם אבינו עליו השלום ועמד בכולם להודיע כמה חיבתו של אברהם אבינו עליו השלום

“With ten tests our father Abraham was tested” - The rabbis in Pirkei Avot (5:3) tell that – “and he withstood them all--in order to make known how great was our father Abraham's love [for G-d]”.

The “tests” aim to answer some questions (why did G-d choose Abraham; why does it say that “G-d tested Abraham” (Genesis 22:1)) and leave many more unanswered (there is no agreement on what exactly are the ten tests; we struggle to explain why would G-d “test” anyone, let alone Abraham), but they do all agree that the last one was the akeida.

After the akeda G-d doesn’t speak to Abraham again. Some say that this is because Abraham failed, and G-d doesn’t want anything to do with those who are willing to sacrifice their children; and others says that Abraham passed all the tests with flying colors, and therefore, G-d didn’t need to give him anymore instructions. 

I would like to offer a third option.

We’re used to thinking that the first time we hear about Abraham’s life is in the opening verses of this week’s Torah portion, Lech Lecha, but that is no so. Abraham is introduced at the end of last week’s parasha, Noah (Genesis 11:26-32. There is no “Action” and not much is told except for who are the main relatives in his family (all information we will soon need) so we tend to ignore it, but one detail should especially stand out: his marriage to Sarah. Indeed, the last time G-d speaks to Abraham is at the akeida, which coincides with Sarah’s death.

Thus, G-d never speaks to Abraham without Sarah.

In my metaphor, Abraham and Sarah can be likened to a radio and antenna. He might be the one doing all the talking, but without the antenna, there is no reception at all. Alternatively, he might be like paint and she - like the canvas. He can be colorful and active, but without a good surface, he won’t be able to truly express who he is.

In the beginning of Lech Lecha, the Torah tells us: “And Abram took Sarai his wife, and Lot his brother's son, and all their substance that they had gathered, and the souls that they had gotten in Haran; and they went forth to go into the land of Canaan; and into the land of Canaan they came”. Rashi explains that the “soul they made (or - had gotten)” are people they converted: Abraham teaching the men, and Sarah - teaching the women”.

Abraham and Sarah provide a unique model. To each other, they are family relatives, husband and wife, and parents. But as we know, those are challenged again and again. Ultimately, Abraham will have another wife and more children. But what makes them so successful is their joint spiritual, life-long mission and their complementary work towards it. That is what gives it so much of its power and drive, which is expressed in G-d speaking with them, starting with lech lecha.

Shabbat Shalom.

Michal’s blog can be found at www.miko284.com

Parshat Noach 5775 (Neska)

In Honor of My Brother Michael, zt'L

And Noach stretched out his hand (v'yishlach yado) for the dove to bring it into the ark.   For me, one of the most beautiful gracious humane compassionate human gestures in the Chumash. 

And in the Akeida:

And Avraham stretched out THE *his*  hand (v'yishlach Avraham ET yado) for the knife.   1.  Had Avraham moved the knife so far away from him that he had to stretch his hand to grab it, to do something he didn't want to do?   Or was this the same hand that Noach had used for a humane purpose, now reaching out to take a life.  

Some sages state that Avraham is Noach reincarnated.   At that moment, did Avraham have a cosmic realization that this very same hand that was now reaching for the knife had once reached for the dove?  Yet another lesson that what Hashem has given us can be used for the positive or for the negative.  

May we all enjoy a life affirming Shabbat Shalom

Parsha Bereshit - October 18, 2014 (Barry Waldman)

PARSHA BEREISHIS

“THE CHOICEST CHOICE”

Barry Waldman

(based on the writings and shiurim of Rav Matis Weinberg, www.thelivingtree.org)

In this week’s parsha, both Kayin and Hevel present offerings to G-d. Hevel’s is accepted and Kayin’s is rejected.  This confuses and annoys Kayin exceedingly:

“He thought to himself:  ‘I sacrificed first, and my offering should have been accepted first.’” (Tzror HaMor)

Chazal, however, were sensitive to the subtle differences in the descriptions of the sacrifices offered:

Kayin: “brought an offering to Hashem of the fruit of the ground.”

Hevel: “he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and from their choicest.”

Whereas Hevel brought the best of what he had, and no such mention is attached to Kayin’s offering, Rashi follows the midrash and deduces that Kayin’s was rejected because he brought inferior produce:

            “of the fruit of the ground” – from the poorest

But Rashi offers an alternative explanation that does not appear in most editions (though a similar explanation can be found in the Rome ed. 1470):

“of the fruit” – From whatever came to his hand, not the best and not the choicest.”

The difference between these two Rashis is subtle.  Yet, understanding this difference – and, indeed, the nature of subtlety itself – yields deep insights into the essence of man’s avodah, his life’s work and purpose on earth.

Our exploration begins with the observation that many words and phrases from the story of Kayin and Hevel are echoed in one other parsha – Korach:

 

I

Kayin was the first whose “face fell” in response to sin:

Bereishis 4:6 - וְלָמָּה נָפְלוּ פָנֶיךָ

Moshe and Aaron “fall on their faces” numerous times in response to the sin of Korach and company – for example:

Bamidbar 16:4 - וַיִּשְׁמַע מֹשֶׁה, וַיִּפֹּל עַל-פָּנָיו

II

Kayin “rose up” against his brother: וַיָּקָם קַיִן אֶל-הֶבֶל

Just as Korach and company “rose up” against Moshe: וַיָּקֻמוּ לִפְנֵי מֹשֶׁה

                                                III 

Kayin is told that sin crouches at the “door”:

Bereishis 4:7 - לַפֶּתַח חַטָּאת רֹבֵץ

In Korach, the sinners Datan and Aviram stand at the “door”:

Bamidbar 16:27 - וְדָתָן וַאֲבִירָם יָצְאוּ נִצָּבִים, פֶּתַח אָהֳלֵיהֶם

IV

Kayin was very annoyed: וַיִּחַר לְקַיִן מְאֹד

And so was Moshe: וַיִּחַר לְמֹשֶׁה מְאֹד

V

Moshe tells Hashem to turn away from Korach’s “offering”:

Bamdibar 16:15 - אַל-תֵּפֶן אֶל-מִנְחָתָם

It seems odd that Moshe refers to Korach’s ketoret offering as a “mincha” – but could this be an illusion to Kayin’s mincha to which G-d did also not turn?

וְאֶל-קַיִן וְאֶל-מִנְחָתוֹ, לֹא שָׁעָה

VI

The earth opens its mouth to receive Hevel’s blood:

וְעַתָּה, אָרוּר אָתָּה, מִן-הָאֲדָמָה אֲשֶׁר פָּצְתָה אֶת-פִּיהָ, לָקַחַת אֶת-דְּמֵי אָחִיךָ מִיָּדֶךָ

And the earth opens its mouth to swallow Korach and company:

וְאִם-בְּרִיאָה יִבְרָא יְהוָה, וּפָצְתָה הָאֲדָמָה אֶת-פִּיהָ וּבָלְעָה אֹתָם

VII

Hevel brought the “first” and “best” of his flocks as an offering to Hashem: 

וְהֶבֶל הֵבִיא גַם-הוּא מִבְּכֹרוֹת צֹאנוֹ, וּמֵחֶלְבֵה

The gifts given to the Kohen, as described at the end of parsha Korach, are the “best” of the oil and the wine, and the “first” of the fruits:

כֹּל חֵלֶב יִצְהָר, וְכָל-חֵלֶב תִּירוֹשׁ

בִּכּוּרֵי כָּל-אֲשֶׁר בְּאַרְצָם

The second of R. Yishmael’s 13 rules by which the Torah is elucidated reads: “similar words in different contexts are meant to clarify one another.”  Rabbi David Fohrman uses the analogy of binocular vision to describe how two separate sections of Torah can provide a “depth perception” that would be lacking if each were viewed independently (shiur on Unataneh Tokef www.alephbeta.org).  Thus, the many linguistic parallels between the story of Kayin and Hevel and parsha Korach are an indication that they are meant to be studied together in order to focus on deeper insights that would be missed otherwise.

A key linkage between the two parshas can be found in a midrash that depicts the primal argument between Kayin and Hevel as a struggle for the kehuna, over who would serve in the Beit HaMikdash:

But about what did they quarrel? One said, “The Temple must be built in my area,” while the other claimed, “It must be built in mine.” (Bereishis Rabbah 22:7 )

Korach, too, tried to wrest the priesthood from Aharon.  He did so by asserting:

“For the entire assembly – all of them – are holy and Hashem is among them.  Why do you exalt yourselves over the congregation of Hashem?”

Ironically, in this bid for the kehuna, Korach exposes himself as the “anti-kohen.”  He presents holiness as generic – the exact opposite of kedusha. By definition, kedusha requires distinguishing one entity from another, separating it for a dedicated purpose.  Thus, holiness is an exercise in havdalah, just as we do at the conclusion of Shabbat: 

Blessed are You, Hashem our G-d, King of the universe, Who separates (hamavdil) between holy and secular, between light and darkness, between Israel and the nations, between the seventh and six days of labor…

Moreover, the holiness of the Kohen is derived from this fundamental havdalah intrinsic within Ma’aseh Bereishis:

“And he spoke unto Korach…in the morning.”  What reason had he for saying, “in the morning?”  Moses said to them:  the Holy One, Blessed be He, has assigned certain boundaries in His world.  Can you, for example, fuse day and night?  Scripture, in reference to this, says at the very beginning, “And there was evening and there was morning,”  “And God divided the light from the darkness” in order that it might be of service to this world.  And just as He divided the light from the darkness in order that it might of service to the world, so He separated Israel from the nations…In the same manner also He set Aaron apart; as it says, “And Aaron was separated, that he should be sanctified as most holy.” [Divrei Hayamim I 23:13] (Bamidbar Rabbah 18:7)

Therefore, it comes as no surprise that the main function of the Kohen is:

“to differentiate (lehavdil) between the sacred and the profane, between the pure  and impure, and to rule [in Torah]…” (Vayikra 10:10)

Parsha Bereshit - October 18, 2014 (Joel Ackerman)

24 Tishrei 5775 / October 18, 2014

By: Joel Ackerman

Bereshit 2014

            Ages ago, at another time and place, in a far distant galaxy, I was serving as gabbai in another East Bay congregation that used the Stone Chumash.   I announced the page number for this parasha by saying “I would like to tell you that this parasha begins on page 1, but I can’t.  It begins on page 2.”

            Our sages have said, many times, that one can learn from all aspects of the Torah, even from empty spaces.  So what can one learn from the fact that there is nothing on page 1 of our Chumash? [Yes, I do know that the text of many of our works, including the Talmud, begin on page 2, which is supposedly a printer’s convention, but why should that prevent me from trying to learn something from the fact that page 1 of the Chumash is blank?]

I suggest that the blank page 1 of the Chumash could teach us that before or during the creation of our world, G-d could have been carrying out some other works of creation, the nature of which is not described in the Torah.  I suggest that He could have created other worlds, with other intelligent beings. After all, the Torah, being directed to us humans, is necessarily Terra-centric.  This parasha describes the creation of our world – the planet we live on and other items in our world such as the sun, moon and stars.              It was given to our ancestors, in times when it was not known that other planets existed.   The stars were simply fixtures in our heavens.  We should not really expect it to speak of other worlds, other intelligent beings.

            We certainly cannot believe that G-d is incapable of doing this.  Remember what He said to the prophet Jeremiah:  “Hineh, ani Adonai Eloheh col-basar, hamimeni yifaleh col-davar?”  (“Behold, I am the Lord, the G-d of all flesh; is there anything too hard for Me?”)   And there is nothing that I could find in the Torah that negates the above idea.    Indeed, why should we humans be the only intelligent beings that He created?  (Note that a number of books appeared in the 1980s asserting that in fact our planet had been visited and contacted numerous times by other intelligent beings (“aliens”), citing, among others, the Merhava vision of the prophet Ezekiel as an attempt to describe a visit by such beings in terms that a human of those days might be able to express.)

            All right, you say, perhaps G-d did create other worlds with other intelligent beings.  After all, our scientists have discovered that many stars have planets and that some of these planets appear to have conditions somewhat similar to our own, so that conditions for the development of intelligent life as we know it seem to exist elsewhere than on Earth.  And there is no reason to believe that the conditions on our planet are the only ones that could support intelligent life.   Why couldn’t other intelligent beings be able to breathe different atmospheres than we, live under different pressures than we, be primarily water-dwellers rather than land-dwellers, etc?

            All well and good, you say, but this is a mini-drash, not some miscellaneous opinion piece based on nothing but pure imagination!    As they say, where’s the beef?  In other words, where’s the proof-text?

            Well, I have to admit that I don’t know of any text that definitely supports this concept.  Some years ago, Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan wrote a short piece on this question.  He cited several possible sources for the concept, but none of them clearly or definitively support it.  So I don’t have an authoritative proof-text.

            However, I do have some text that reinforces this concept.  It’s from the Rosh Hashanah machzor, a part that deals with the nature of the kingship of G-d:

            “Elohenu v’eloheh avotenu, m’loch al col ha-olam culo bichvodecha v’hinaseh al col ha’aretz biyarkecha, v’hofa bachadar ge’on uzecha, al col yoshvei artzecha.”

            “Our G-d and G-d of our forefathers, reign over the entire universe in Your glory, be exalted over all the world, in Your splendor, reveal Yourself in the majestic grandeur of Your strength over all the dwellers of Your inhabited world.”

            The text distinguishes between G-d as ruler of the entire universe (ha’olam) and ruler of our world (ha’aretz).    The machzor states several times that here on earth, all of His creations (man and animal, at least) are to acknowledge His kingship.  And what about elsewhere in the universe?  The same.  “Reign over all the universe in Your glory”.

            We humans have been seeking for some years now, through powerful telescopes and the SETI (Search for Extra-terrestrial Intelligence) project, sending space vehicles and messages to other parts of the universe, hoping to contact other intelligent life.  So far, we have not been successful (although see the books written in the 1980s on visits by other beings).   Our sages have not really addressed the question of whether the universe contains intelligent life and, if it does, what it would be like.  Of course many of our other wise men, such as James Blish, James White, Isaac Asimov, Avram Davidson, and Poul Anderson (among many others) have considered this question and many of its implications, and you may wish to read some of their writings.

            And, of course, it’s interesting to speculate what such intelligent beings would be like.  Would they also believe that the universe was created by a Supreme Unique Being?    Would they have holy scriptures?  If so, would they resemble our Torah?  Would G-d have delivered to them the same messages as He gave us?  Did they receive something resembling the Ten Commandments?  Is there a group among them that corresponds to us Jews, with our mission?   Or, alternatively, will it be our mission to eventually venture into space, to carry the word of G-d to other sentient beings elsewhere in the universe?

            Enjoy your speculations.  Shabbat shalom.

Chukat 5774 - June 26, 2014

Chukat 5774

(By Rabbi Dardik - published in this week's issue of "J")

While I have known that this moment would come one day, I cannot say that I have looked forward to it.   I have been waiting for twenty years (one could say two thousand years) to the life that will come after, but not to this particular instant. 

You see, it is time for me to say farewell.  After thirteen years in the Bay Area and just shy of four decades in the US, I am moving home to Israel this summer, to a home that has never been my home.  I love my Oakland shul-community family and my Bay Area life, and in any conventional sense Israel is a foreign country to me.  I was born and raised an American, to American parents.  I grew up here, went to school here, made my dearest friends here, married here and raised my family here.  It doesn’t stem from a desire to leave, but rather a yearning of the soul to be there.  To ascend on Aliyah.  I may not be Israeli, but I guess I am one of the Children of Israel.

My heart has long broken for Moshe in this week's Torah portion.  Something goes wrong, and he is told that “You will not lead this people into the land that I have given them” (20:12).  Moshe pleads with Hashem to allow him to fulfill the mitzvah of living in Israel or even just to step into it for a moment, but he is rebuffed and only allowed to stand on a mountaintop and peer into the land.  Just like that, Moshe’s dream was crushed.

But what happened?  The narrative does not make it clear.  Rashi surmises from discrepancies in the text that Moshe did not follow directions properly, and hit the rock from which water flowed instead of speaking to it.  Rambam notes that the wording (20:10) indicates that Moshe got angry at the people, and his anger was his undoing.

There is another explanation (Midrash Rabbah Devarim 2:8) that caught my eye.  Moshe, carrying Joseph’s bones through the desert in order to bury those remains in Israel, tries to convince Hashem to let him into Israel.  “Master of the Universe, the bones of Joseph are entering the Land.  Am I not to enter the Land?”  Hashem responds that “He who acknowledged his native land is to be buried in that land but he who did not acknowledge his native land does not merit to be buried in his land.”  The Midrash then points out the verses in the Torah where Joseph identified himself publicly as a Jew (Bereishit 39:14 and 40:15).  In contrast, Moshe allowed himself to be identified as an Egyptian man (Shemot 2:19) and as a result did not make it to the homeland that he had never lived in. 

But why does Moshe's classification as an Egyptian have any impact on his ability to enter the land?  Perhaps because as Jews we connect not only horizontally in the present with our people across the world today, but also vertically back through the millennia.  Human beings are not born in a vacuum, and much as we like to consider ourselves to be self-made we are also impacted by our pasts.  An integral part of being a Jew is identifying with our history.  We spent thousands of years trying to build a model society in Israel, at the crossroads of three continents.  And it is the epicenter of our present and future attempts to do so.  Moshe was connecting to the Jewish present, but had forgotten to reach back into the past to the roots of his identity.

Every so often, I look in the mirror and ask myself, “Am I crazy?  My Beth Jacob and Bay Area Rabbi life journey has been amazing.  Incredible opportunities to learn and teach and share with spectacular people, phenomenal education and environment for my children, and the natural beauty doesn't hurt, either. What in the world am I doing?" 

But it doesn't take long to answer: The ultimate human purpose is to live a meaningful life.  Life here has indeed been deeply meaningful, and has readied me to immerse myself and my family once and for all into the Jewish past, present and future.  After nearly twenty centuries, I could become the last immigrant in my family tree.  I can live out my most cherished values in a place where I experience a heightened sense of Hashem’s presence.  Moshe was denied this dream, but it has never been easier than it is in 2014.  It's time.  Thank you all for years of reading and allowing me to share; this fall I will be teaching Torah in the old city of Jerusalem (with a beautiful view of the Western Wall) and would love to run into you there one day. 

Parsha Shelach - June 14, 2014

Parsha: Shelach

Date: June 14,2014

By: Dan Cohen

A very mini-drash in honor of the OHDS Graduates 

(and each of you)

With apologies to those who heard this at the OHDS graduation earlier this week, please indulge a quick thought and prayer for each of you and for all of our community’s graduates.

This week’s parsha, Shelach, highlights one of the early moments in which the Jewish people’s doubts about G-d delivering us into Israel leads to disastrous outcomes.  In the parsha, Moses is convinced to send scouts into the land of Israel.  The cycle of deceit, despair, and slow destruction of an entire generation of Jews that follows is well-documented.

However, on the positive side, I was moved by an idea from Rabbi Ephy Greene. When Moses commanded the spies to explore the land, one of the things he tells them to look for is, “HaYesh Bah Etz Im Ayin”, “Is there a tree there…” (Numbers 13:20)

Rashi explains that this tree is a metaphor for a righteous person. But why? 

Rashi adds that just like a tree provides shade, so too this Tzaddik will protect the people of the land. In our own lives, we know that a truly righteous person can impact the lives of many and when we act in a righteous manner, there is no limit to the impact we can have on others.

However, the metaphor goes even deeper. Man’s potential, our potential, for growth and positive, productive activity is also comparable to the tree that the parsha cites. The Maharal writes that man is called Adam from the word Adamah or Earth.  And that from the earth we can grow and bear fruit. 

For our graduates (from OHDS and every institution), my prayer is that you have set strong roots, and that the fruit – the potential – is yet to come.   For each of you, the opportunity and challenge remains to continue to grow, to find moments (however brief) to be more like a Tzaddik, and to share the fruits of our positive impacts with as many people as we can.

Parsha Behaalotchah: June 7, 2014

Parsha: Behaalotchah

Date: June 7,2014

By: Michal Kohane

How can we understand the great spiritual opening of this parasha, the lighting of the Menorah, juxtaposed with beginning of the first “new” sins in the desert, the people complaining, the desire for meat, the words spoken against Moses? Is this parasha just a bunch of separate details that happen to go into the same reading, or does it actually make sense to put them together?

Exactly this week, one family in our shul marks an amazing “yahrzeit”: For Sophia and Boris Burshtyen it’s been 26 years since their own yetziat mitzrayim, their own family’s Exodus from Russia. Sophia, who was 26 at the time, says: “and starting tomorrow, I will be here longer than there… finally!”

What is it like to experience the Exodus in first person? Hearing this story can help us understand the journey of long ago:

“… back then, 26 years ago, we are getting ready for a big move to a faraway beautiful land of freedom and opportunities... So excited to leave the hateful place and start in a new and promising place! But also, frightened to leave a well-known, familiar place and move to the completely unknown, unfamiliar one.

Our family was not the only one on this Exodus. There were so many leaving, you could hear it everywhere: ‘where are you going? when? how long did you wait? 10 years? just few months? Wow’... The perfect time to apply, our “pharaoh” was forced to open the gate, and “let my People go”. 

Just like the Children of Israel of so long ago, we were told: ‘Can’t take many things with you, just few belongings, the rest must be left behind’ and not only things but also friends, traditions, customs, and places...  Luckily, our family was allowed to go together - a husband, a baby (oblivious to the grandiose move), parents, sister’s family and the grandmother of 84, the leader of the crew.

Finally, one day, we got on the plane and left but have not arrived yet... We had an extended waiting period in Europe where we would need to go through preparation and a long wait. There are many rules on how to leave the place but there are many more on how to enter a new one.  There are questions to answer, forms to fill out, tests to take, culture to learn… understand who we are and who we are not but most importantly, know when to blend in and when not to.

Some of us want to use this time to travel, be tourist. Look! We’re in Europe! Others prefer to wait and get ready. The preparation period is a must but how long can it last? How long the learning should continue? Soon, excitement and patience are running down, boredom is rising up. There is nothing to do, no certainty regarding the future, and soon no privacy. We’re crowded together, and while we know the place we left was not perfect, it was also known and familiar and definitely not boring.  Actually, the further we get, the better our memories of our old home. And remember, we had privacy back there! Everybody was not so aggravating, and aggravated!! Look at us now, there is no privacy here, people are everywhere, it’s crowded and we have to share rooms and bathrooms; there is nothing to talk about but repeat the same talks all the time; there is nowhere to go but take the same walks; and the food! Yes, we’re thankful. It is provided and good but oh, so different and so plain! When are we going to get there already”?!

We hear the echo of Bnai Israel in this story and the idea of “in every generation”. What about the lighting of the Menorah in the opening verses?

This parasha is called “Beha’alotcha”. Most English versions translate it into “when you light the Menorah”, but Beha’alotcha shares its root with al – up or on top, and aliya – going up and also being called to the Torah or immigrating to Israel. As we heard above, the complexities and challenges of such a journey are immense and should not be underestimated. In spite of the initial excitement, it is possible to lose the bigger picture. Our mind is easily manipulated, wandering elsewhere. We need something we can hold on to in front of us; something to inspire us along the way. Then as today, the lighting of the Menorah was not only a matter of bringing “light”, but a calling to keep the focus “up”.

Shabbat Shalom. 

Parsha Nasso, May 29, 2014

Parsha: Nasso (2014)

By: Joel Ackerman

A Human Miracle?

            The Torah is replete with miracles performed by G-d for the Israelites – both while in the desert (Bamidbar) and in Israel.  This parasha describes an event that could be considered a miracle performed by humans – the leaders (“princes”) of the Israelite tribes.

            Imagine this scene.  You visit a synagogue in which you have never been before.  In general the synagogue looks much the same as others you know.  There is a beautifully designed aron (ark) that contains Torahs wrapped in fine velvet mantles.  The curtain in front of the ark and coverings for the reading tables are similarly of fine velvet.   In the walls are beautiful windows.   Everything looks and feels familiar, but something seems a bit odd – a little off. 

After a while, it occurs to you what seems strange.    There are no decorations on the Torah mantles or other velvet materials.  And none is inscribed with the name of a donor or a person in whose honor or memory the item was donated.  The same is true of the windows.  There are no plaques on the walls noting any donation.  Just to be sure, you check the siddurim around you.  There are no faceplates with names of donors or honorees.

            You feel that this congregation must be composed of amazing individuals.   No one seems to have needed to see his or her name prominently displayed.  They must all have been able to subsume their egos to support a common purpose – hiddur mitzvah for the synagogue.   A human-performed miracle?

            This week’s parasha describes what seems to be a similar “miracle” - the presentation of gifts by the nasiim (“princes”) of the tribes at the dedication of the mishkan.   First they jointly present the mundane gifts of oxen and wagons to carry the parts of the mishkan.    Then, each nasi has the opportunity to present his individual gifts – one on each of twelve consecutive days. 

            The twelve nasiim presented identical gifts – a silver bowl weighing 130 shekels, a silver basin weighing 70 shekels, both filled with a meal-offering, a gold ladle weighing ten shekels filed with incense, and specified numbers of animals for sacrifices.    According to the Midrash the bowls, basins and ladles weighed exactly the same, so that if all were melted down the resulting amount of silver or gold metal would be exactly twelve times the weight of one item.   And, in addition, one might have expected that the princes would have decorated their items differently or inscribed their names or the names of their tribes on these items.  But no – again, the Midrash teaches that all the bowls, all the basins and all the ladles were exactly alike.  And this was no accident – it was done intentionally, by agreement of the nasiim.

            The Midrash credits this accomplishment to Netanel ben Tzuar, nasi of the tribe of Issachar, who was scheduled to present his gift on the second day.  According to the story, he saw the gift planned by the first to present (Nachshon ben Amminadav of Judah) and decided to present an identical gift so as not to upstage his predecessor, and not to start a cascade of ever-increasing gifts, with the last nasi feeling it would be necessary to bring the most elaborate, most expensive, gift.

            Rav Yissocher Frand explains it thusly:

            “He reasoned as follows:  We know our own nature.  Everyone will argue that his offering was better.  This will lead to lashon hara and hatred and jealously.  We know our nature.  So he did a tremendous thing.  He brought – exactly – the same offering.  He set the tone – everyone is the same.”

            Now, knowing human nature, it seems reasonable that this was not all that Netanel ben Tzuar did to maintain peace among the tribes.   It seems to me that it would not have been enough for him to have decided to bring exactly the same gift as Nachshon.   He probably still would have had to convince ten other nasiim to go along, and to agree on what the gifts would be; ten other leaders with their own personalities, their own egos and their own ideas about gift-giving.  And perhaps Moses had to be involved in these discussions.   Because Moses and the Kohanim would have to agree that they could use twelve of each item.  Otherwise they would have to accept gifts that were superfluous - with a straight face – and then figure out what they were going to do with them.

            And so the mishkan was constructed and equipped by the community, in a totally community-focused way.   The mishkan itself was made from raw materials donated by the overall community – wood, metal, fabrics, wool, skins, etc., that were made into the necessary objects by Bezalel and Oholiav and their many helpers.   Any object was made from materials donated by many individuals – no one could point to anything and say “This was made from materials given by me.”   And a Kohen or Levite using one of the bowls, basins or ladles would have no idea which prince, which tribe, had contributed it. 

            Such an overall sublimation of egos - a miracle performed by humans?  Feel free to decide.

Parsha Emor: May 3, 2014

Parsha Emor

3 Iyar /May 3

By: Michal Kohane

If perchance you scratch your head because you forgot one of the Torah holidays, fear not! There is one chapter where you can find them all: Leviticus 23, in the heart of the Torah portion of Emor. As we read the list, we notice that the Biblical holidays started with Pesach and ended with Shmini Atzeret – spanning the six months from spring and summer to fall. No winter holidays. All together – seven (7) holidays, including Shabbat, Pesach, Shavuot, Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, Sukkot & Shmini Atzeret.

And in between them, we find the following commandment:

"וספרתם לכם ממחרת השבת, מיום הביאכם את עומר התנופה, שבע שבתות תמימות תהיינה, עד ממחרת השבת השביעית, תספרו חמישים יום"...

“And you shall count unto you from the morrow after the day of rest, from the day that you brought the sheaf of the waving; seven weeks shall there be complete; even unto the morrow after the seventh week shall you number fifty days”… (23:15-16).

This, of course, is the counting of the Omer where we are now: seven weeks of seven days from Pesach and Shavuot. Time has seen us add numerous explanations and customs, and even holidays to the sfira, the count. All the “Israel days” are concentrated here; as kids, growing up in Israel, we were particularly religious about Lag Ba’omer, celebrating it with grand bonfires for which wood (very precious in Israel!) was collected (not to mention sometimes stolen) weeks in advance. This was in honor of Bar Kochva (the hero), Rabbi Akiva and the great revolt following the Temple’s destruction (we were not told of the disastrous results of this revolt…). Special minhagim were kept during the sfira: no shaving, no weddings (except on Lag Ba’omer).

And somehow, between it all, the original injunction of the sfira, was a little (to say the least) lost.

As I understand it, the sfira, first of all, is supposed to help us connect between Pesach and Shavuot; between the exodus and the time of giving of the Torah; between the wow of liberation and the reason of that liberation, or else we’d still be running “free” in the desert. The sfira is a countdown (count-up?) to a special event, like waiting for a birthday, a big trip, a gift; something we expect excitedly; something without which we would be going nowhere with no purpose at all.

And, the sfira also reminds us that things don’t happen all at once, that things take time, and a process, sort of like creation. After all, G-d can do anything, so why take six days to create the world? Can’t he just say “poof” and ‘let there be world’?? Why break it down to light and dirt and plants and various animals? Maybe to teach us that good things take time; that in order to build something real and beautiful, there is a course to go through, like a spiritual pregnancy. We can’t plant a seed and expect a blooming flower and fruit ripening on the tree the next day. The seed has to rot in the ground, going through a process that many of us would consider disgusting, until a beautiful flower comes out. We can’t be born and immediately start hiking; we can’t be slaves, and get the Torah immediately.

Sometimes we forget, especially nowadays, when we’re bombarded with slogans for immediate gratification, everything from “peace now” to fast food, we want whatever it is, yesterday. We want others to guess our needs and give it to us sooner rather than later, before we have even figured it out ourselves.

But the Torah says – the journey itself takes precedence to reaching the destination: “im bechukotai telchu”– if you (just) walk in accordance to my law”…  (26:3). each step along the way is a goal in itself, which we can’t do without. Like children, we count: One. Two…. Twelve… Twenty one... Thirty Three... We need each piece to complete the puzzle, even if we don’t always see the whole picture right away. We learn patience and structure and putting things together.

In Genesis, we hear about Abraham who was “ba bayamim” (Genesis 24:1). “Ba bayamim” is a figure of speech which means advanced in years, but it literally means ‘comes in the days,’ or better ‘comes with one’s days.’ That means, said the sages, that when he was coming and going, he still had all his days; he still knew exactly what he did yesterday, and the day before, and a year ago, And since he managed to make each day meaningful, he came with all of them.

And so it is with us. We’re still taught to count. We need to count every day because every day counts.

Shabbat Shalom.

Parsha Kedoshim - April 26, 2014

Parsha Kedoshim

26 Nissan /April 26

By: David Carasso

How many holy people are there in the world? How many of them can you specifically identify? How many do you know personally? How many are your friends? Are you one of them?

And Hashem spoke with Moshe, saying, “Speak with the entire community of the Children of Israel, and say to them, ‘You shall be holy, for I -- Hashem, your God -- am holy.” -- Lev 19:1

R. Moshe Alshech (Tzfat d.1593) said that people view this requirement as almost optional. They see a life of holiness as belonging to a select few, people with rare spiritual qualities and the outstanding mental capacity needed to become a great Torah scholar. Perhaps one or two people in a generation are able to lead a holy life.

But the Torah says, No. Every single Jew is obligated to elevate himself, adding dignity, nobility, and sensitivity to his life.  You, me, the people around your table, your shul, your nation. Every single one of us. I'm looking at you, David Carasso.

So what is this life of holiness? Does it mean fasting, asceticism, extra prohibitions, and withdrawing from society? Yes! OK, No, it is the opposite: a life of holiness is one where we grasp the world Hashem put us in, people and all, and proceed to live in it, actively and enthusiastically, with wisdom, kindness, and understand.

In the parsha from two weeks ago, Aharon’s two sons approached Hashem in the most isolated, separated, holy location -- the Holy of Holies -- and died. That is not for us. Yes, we also should connect with God, but not by isolating ourselves from the people. (Kohen Gadols, please ignore). Connect with God, yes, but not by isolating people. And don’t die. Good advice.

The Ramban (an obscure rabbi that I introduced Rabbi Dardik to) views this instruction -- to be holy -- as providing a ‘beyond the letter of the law’ aspect. You can keep kosher and still be a pig; you can technically cover up and still be immodest; you can skirt the laws of lashon hara and still be insensitive. The Torah cannot provide a complete legal requirement for how you should act. Be holy. Go beyond. Lack of holiness -- you’ll know it when you see it.

The command “to be holy” is a mandate to better yourself. But that’s not actually what it says. It says “you shall/will be holy”. Holiness, spiritual progress, is not something you achieve. It’s an ongoing future -- a future of self-improvement: study, self-reflection, and action; rinse, lather, repeat.

The verse also says “Speak with the entire community”. The Torah was not a gift to a few holy individuals of outstanding spiritual qualities.  The Torah was given to a nation, not to individuals, so that we would become a holy nation, and ultimately an example to the world.

Should you think you’re not up to living a holy life, the verse ends with “for I -- Hashem your God -- am holy”. God can do it, so why can’t you? OK, that logic doesn’t quite work, but we have an obligation to emulate God, His known attributes, as best as possible. Just as he is holy, so should we strive to be.

“Perform random acts of kindness”? Nonsense.  Perform regular, ever better acts of kindness.  And involve others. And tell two friends.

Bonus lesson: I’m not thrilled with dvarei torah that focus on the beginning of the parsha and ignore the rest. So here’s the musaf:

“When you enter the Land and you will plant any food-bearing tree, and you shall seal off that which is sealed off: its fruit. For three years it shall be -- for you -- sealed off, not to be eaten. And in the fourth year all its fruit shall be holy, for praises to Hashem.” -- Lev. 19:23

The fruit produced by trees in the first three years may not be consumed, but in the fourth year the fruit had to be brought to Jerusalem and enjoyed with the poor, widows, orphans, and other underprivileged. The purpose? As the verse says, to praise Hashem. The best way to thank God for the bounty is by sharing your bounty with others.