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.

Parsha Chol HaMoed, April 19, 2014

Parsha Chol HaMoed

19 Nissan /April 19

By: Barbara Barer

L’Dor Va Dor  

                                    

By now it’s common knowledge that I’ve been studying what life is like in advanced old age.

Like every other subject, like law, medicine, agriculture, there is something to be found in the Torah relating to old age. Therefore it struck me some time ago when we read about Abraham’s passing at the advanced age of 175.

“Abraham breathed his last and died at a good age, old and satisfied.” Well, what does it mean to be satisfied? The Talmud states that the truly wealthy person is one who is satisfied with whatever one has (Ethics of the Fathers, 4:1). How does one achieve satisfaction in advanced old age, and how does Judaism contribute to this?

I know what being observant means to me in my personal life, but I found it thought provoking to consider what it means in one’s old age. In talking with older people of all denominations, I have found that Judaism is very life sustaining, with a Jewish culture that focuses on home, family, community, and a tradition which connects us to our past. The practice of Judaism is very positive and sustaining throughout life, with its commitment to ritual, prayer, and family, and I would like to focus on those three aspects.

In my work with the elderly I have seen the importance and value of having a strong identity. In advanced old age there are inevitable losses – such as loss of hearing, vision, mobility, work, income, friends, and family - even, not uncommonly, the loss of a child. So how does one achieve satisfaction in one’s late years?

Generally we found that when there’s no alarm clocks, no black appointment book, no work schedule, people establish daily routines and create rituals around the mundane tasks of daily living. For example, they ritualize meal times, or plan their day around certain TV programs, or according to the timing of various medications that they take. By establishing a ritual they give meaning to otherwise seemingly meaningless days.

Judaism has long known about the importance of ritual, how to use time, to make it useful and meaningful.  The Jewish calendar is very full, with days that are not ordinary, with much to look forward to. Each week there is Shabbat, which we are never more than 3 days away from, with its ritual centered on the home and family, the weekly portion to study.

Throughout the year there are constant markers, such as celebrating Passover, counting the Omer, Shavuous, the High Holidays, Sukkot, to be shared with family and community, a sharing which sustains social integration. Additionally, the communal prayer of the minyan provides a form of sociability rather than prayer in isolation.

Which leads me to the importance of prayer in old age, not only in the ritual use of time during the day, but from prayer one gains strength and wisdom, which reduces a feeling of helplessness that can come with the frailty of old age. With increased limitations there is the threat of losing one’s independence and having to depend on others. A very important aspect of self-esteem is to be able to reciprocate. It is important to feel that you can still do things for others.

Even in the face of physical limitations, Judaism offers the opportunity to still do Mitzvot. For example, to pray for others, to offer blessings for a simcha, and to contribute to Tzedakah. Feeling that you can still contribute and do for others gives one a source of strength and vitality.

For example, Jacob, on his death bed, at the age of 147, told Joseph to bring his two sons, Menassah and Ephraim to him and “I will give them a blessing.” Even with a last breath, Jacob had something to offer his grandsons.

What I would most like to convey in my message, is that being an observant Jew and perpetuating our rituals and traditions does not suddenly occur in old age, once you’ve finished doing everything else. Rather, it starts in early childhood, at home.

It is said that the greatest strength in preserving the Jewish people throughout history is the integrity of the family. Personally it has been my practice and belief that it is the Jewish household that preserves tradition and maintains the Jewish identity. When Judaism is practiced at home and starts in early childhood, it can never been taken away from you, it can never be lost, like your hearing, mobility, friends etc. Rather, there is an unbroken continuity over time…practices that are connected with you, and remain familiar to you, from childhood to old age.

In Proverbs 3:18 “The Torah is an eitz chaim, a tree of life.” I interpret this as the Torah providing us with sustenance for life, and my conclusion is that you are doing yourself and your children a favor if you are prepared, and you prepare them to live life in a way that is truly sustaining and that sustains you right up to a very advanced old age.

Parsha Acharei: April 12, 2014

Parsha Acharei

12 Nissan /April 12

By: Ilana Zerbib

Norcal NCSY Dvar Torah of the Week!

If you look at the latest bestsellers, some of the plots are centered around utopian or dystopian societies in which the population is divided according to aptitude or personality tests. In almost every case, the protagonist discovers major flaws, cover-ups, or corruption in the society, overthrows the government, (finds her true love along the way), many people die, and she lives happily ever after. And once in a while there's an epilogue.

In Parshat Acharei Mot, you can find a similar theme. The parsha describes the Kohen Gadol's traditional attire. Now if you think about it, the Kohen Gadol was the representative of the entire Jewish nation. The fact that the outfit is described in so much detail must mean that there is symbolism in every single piece of clothing.

The Chassidic Rabbis have enlightened us: the four types of garments symbolize four different kinds of people. The headgear symbolizes the creative, innovative types. The sash alludes to the intellectual, rational types. The tunic symbolized the emotional types, and the trousers are the industrial types who revel in tangible accomplishments and rewards.

Each one of these people is not only important to a society, but crucial. The Kohen Gadol had to wear all of these garments to do his service in the Beit Hamikdash. So to, our nation needs every single one of us to step us and contribute the traits we were born with to the greater good. Maybe some of us identify with more than one type of these personalities, but we must use all of our talents, or aptitudes to serve Hashem and make the world a better place. We must give all of ourselves.

At the end of the novel, the protagonist always realizes: we must not divide ourselves in accordance to personality, rather we should unify- and then, and only then, will our society thrive. All these New York Times bestsellers have just been recently touching on this important concept, but us Jews?

We've known this forever. Shabbat Shalom.

Parsha Metzora - April 5, 2014

Parsha Metzora 

27 Adar II/March 29 

By: Joel Ackerman 

 So the metzora – the person in whom the kohen has identified a tzaraat (skin condition indicating a spiritual  or moral failing such as having committed lashon hara) has been living alone, outside the camp for a while, and it is now time for the kohen to check whether the tzaraat has healed.

 The kohen comes outside the camp for the inspection and the metzora is brought to him. If the inspection indicates the tzaraat has healed, he (as used herein with respect to persons other than the kohen, “he” is deemed to also include “ she”) does not simply step back into society; he must go through a detailed process. First, he is sprinkled with a mixture of certain materials. Then he must wash all his clothing, shave off his hair (some say all the hair on his body – looks like a large baby, no?) and live outside his tent for a week
before being allowed in.

 Then the former metzora must bring certain sacrifices, which the kohen handles in more or less the usual manner. But then the metzora becomes personally involved. The kohen places drops of blood and oil from the sacrifice on the person’s ear, thumb and big toe. The person is granted atonement and becomes tahor (ritually pure) again.

 And suddenly we have a flashback. The ceremony with the drops has been mentioned before in the inauguration of the kohanim (Tetzaveh, 29:20; Tzav, 8:24). The point there is that these organs should be dedicated to the service of G-d. But what does this have to do with the metzora? Two connections.

 First, to emphasize that instead of using these organs and capabilities for his former sinning ways, he also should dedicate his abilities to the service of G-d. And secondly, these organs also symbolize how lashon hara is spread. The ear – or the brain – hears it; the thumb - or the hand – grasps it, holds on to it, doesn’t push it away, and with the feet the person rushes off to tell it to someone.

 But it’s not always that straightforward. Remember that the torah states that the metzora is brought to the kohen. Why? One would think that the metzora would be so anxious to re-enter society that he or she would immediately go to the kohen the minute he comes out to inspect.

But Rabbi Zelig Pliskin cites Ibn Ezra - who takes the contrary position - that when the person has the tzaraat he will definitely assert that, of course, once it has been cleared up he will bring the necessary offerings and go through the process, but once it has cleared up (or even seems to have cleared) he will attend to other things and not spend time on meeting those obligations. Surely that person will not want to go through a ritual that will be lengthy and annoying, and designed to remind him of past behavior. So he has to be brought to the kohen.

That was then; this is now.  We don’t have any such rituals today.  A person can commit lashon hara, an egregious act against someone else, and then go on as if nothing had happened.  He does not have to go through any process in order to return to society – there’s no process to remind him of the responsibility to act properly towards others.

And if someone sees this occurring and tries to object, what are they told?   “Loosen up!  Get a life! Don’t be judgmental!  Live and let live!  Let’s put it behind us!”  There’s no pressure to show any remorse, least of all to change one’s ways.

So how do we deal with the issue today, when there is no kohen, no purity issues, no exclusion from society, and no required ritual to re-enter it?

For others – perhaps there’s a way to get someone else to stop spreading lashon hara, especially talk that’s damaging to another.  Perhaps you can find a time and place to talk to that other person and point out what they’re doing.  Perhaps.

But what about oneself?  Probably only by working at becoming aware of the dangers caused by it and the ease with which it’s spread and teaching oneself to recognize it and exercising control about spreading it.

But it’s extremely difficult.  Let’s face it; it seems clear that many if not most people enjoy talking about other people.   Unless we all become tzaddikim, we’re likely to continue doing that.  Perhaps much of it is even harmless, but some of it likely can be injurious.   Somehow we’ve got to be able to police ourselves.

Shabbat shalom.