Parashat Shelach-Lekha

Parashat Shelach-Lekha

Sivan 26, 5772 ~ June 16, 2012

by Marshall Schwartz

This week's parsha, Shelach-Lekha, begins with the story of the twelve spies sent across the Jordan to investigate the Land of Israel.  Actually, we are presented with only part of the story here – more details are provided at the beginning of the Book of Deuteronomy.  Further, our haftarah relates the story of the second time spies were sent into Eretz Yisrael, this time by Joshua.   Comparing the differences among the three tales can be quite informative.

“Send for yourself men to spy out the Land of Canaan,” Hashem instructs Moshe at the start of this parsha – or, as Rashi explains, “not for me”, but if you want to, then go ahead.  A simple reading of the text would seem to indicate that this idea originated with Hashem.  It's not until the next book of the Torah that we get the full story, as Moses begins his final instructions to B'nei Yisrael:

All of you approached me and said, “Let us send men ahead of us, and let them spy out the land, and bring word back to us: the road on which we should ascend, and the cities to which we should come.”  The idea was good in my eyes, so I took from you twelve men, one man for each tribe.”  [Deut. 1:22-23]

Only here do we learn that the impetus for sending spies came from the people themselves – not from Hashem, and not even from Moshe.  But Moshe takes their proposal and subtly modifies it in two important ways.  First, Moshe himself selects the spies – unwilling to follow B'nei Yisrael's request to “let us send men ahead of us”, lest they choose individuals of weak character who, out of fear, might bring back a less-than-glowing report about the land that Hashem had promised would be “flowing with milk and honey”.   Secondly, while the people had wanted only a report of information important to their impending military campaign, Moshe expands the scope of the mission:

See the land – how is it?  And the people that dwell in it – are they strong or weak?  Few or numerous?  And how is the land in which they well – is it good or bad?  And how are the cities in which they dwell – are they open or are they fortified?  And how is the land – is it fertile, or is it lean?  Are there trees in it or not?  You shall strengthen yourselves and take from the fruit of the land.  [Num. 13:18-20]

Gathering military information before battle is standard procedure – Joshua does it (as related in our haftarah), and Moshe himself does the same just two parshiot from now, when “Moshe sent [men] to spy out Jazer”  [Num. 21:32].  But what Moshe adds to the spies' task is decidedly non-military – he requests a report on the fertility, the bounty of Eretz Yisrael, so that the wavering, spiritually-weak tribes would be heartened by a report confirming Hashem's promise. 

         

But Moshe's hopes are soon dashed.   When the spies return, they show the assembled B'nei Yisrael the magnificent produce they brought back with them, and inform  Moshe that Eretz Yisrael  indeed “flows with milk and honey”.  This is what Moshe expected to here.  Immediately, however, dark clouds cover this picture, as the spies turn to military matters:  “The people that dwells in the land is powerful, the cities are fortified and very great, and we also saw there the offspring of the giants [yelidei ha'anak].  Amalek dwells in the south; the Hittites, Jebusites and Amorites dwell on the mountain, and the Canaanites dwell by the sea and on the bank of the Jordan” [Num. 13:28-29]. 

All of these statements properly fulfill the spies' mission, as given to them by Moshe.  Then Caleb, dismayed by the negative review the other spies have given about the strength of the people that Israel is supposed to conquer,  asserts himself and declares, “We shall surely ascend and conquer it, for we can surely do it!” [Num. 13:30].   And that's when the rest of the meraglim (except for Joshua) exceed their mandate, departing from a straightforward reconnaissance report to instead pour out all their fears and lack of faith in Hashem's promises:

“We cannot ascend to that people, because they are stronger than us!”  They brought forth to B'nei Yisrael an evil report (dibat) on the land they had reconnoitered, saying, “The land through which we passed, to spy it out, is a land that devours its inhabitants!  All the people that we saw in it were huge! There we saw the Nephilim...; we were like grasshoppers in our eyes, and so we were in their eyes! [Num. 13:31-33]

This was the true sin of the ten spies (and of the mass of Israelites who believed their self-debasing report):  They rejected Hashem and the land he had promised to them, overwhelmed by the fears and sense of powerlessness wrought by centuries of slavery in Egypt. They are so distraught that they declare, “Our wives and our young children will be taken captive.  Is it not better for us to return to Egypt?...  Let us appoint a leader and let us return to Egypt!” [Num 14:3-4]  For this rejection, Hashem imposed the severe punishment of barring their entry into Eretz Yisrael – only their descendants, those younger than 20, plus Caleb and Joshua, would inherit the land.

When told of Hashem's decree against them, the people repent, and in the morning they declare themselves ready to march onward and conquer the land.  They persist in this design even after Moshe tells them that they will fail utterly, because Hashem is not with them and this effort transgresses Hashem's command.   Only after they suffer a crushing defeat at the hands of the Amalekites and Canaanites do they desist.  Only then have they learned the lesson that without Hashem's assistance they are indeed powerless, but with his help they can conquer all, even “giants”.

Joshua has kept silent during this confrontation.  [Some midrashim suggest that this was a deliberate plan, that Joshua expected that, after Caleb's outburst, the other spies would turn to him – as Moshe's long-time aide de camp – for support, whereupon he would win the day by announcing his complete agreement with Caleb.  But the opportunity never came.]  But he learned an important lesson from this incident.  When faced with the task of conquering Jericho, as related in our haftarah, there is no public selection of men to reconnoiter.  Without fanfare, Joshua selects two men (according midrash, Caleb and Pinchas – whose zeal for Hashem is shown by his actions at the end of Parshat Balak, which we read in three weeks) for the task.  They discover that the inhabitants of the land are in dread of the Israelits, having heard of their departure from Egypt, the splitting of the sea, and their overwhelming defeat of Og and Sichon.   All this less than 40 years after B'nei Yisrael rejected Hashem and the land.  It leads one to believe that the original group of spies never even spoke to any of the people living in the land during their 40-day exploration of it, else they would have discovered at least some of the fear evinced during the time of Joshua.  It was clear that Israel's  all-too-human weaknesses, exacerbated by generations of numbing servitude, overwhelmed the awe they felt at the splitting of the sea and at the foot of Mount Sinai.  Only true faith in Hashem can allow us to overcome our frailties.

Parashat Beha'alotcha

Parashat Beha'alotcha

Sivan 19, 5772 ~ June 9, 2012

by Irwin Kaplan

Beha'alotcha provides a great deal of information about the people, circumstances and organization of the children of Israel as they traverse the desert. This is the Parsha that includes in 10:35, Vay’hi binsoa Ha’Aron, vayomer Moshe….(familiar to all of us as the Torah is being removed from the ark.) As the ark travels, Moshe calls upon the Lord to clear Your enemies out of Your way (not, our enemies out of our way, which I suspect has been the subject of many interpretations).

But strewn throughout are compelling stories, made even more powerful by the almost casual way they are woven into the narrative. What follows is a personal (and obviously subjective) view of those that are most meaningful and the thread that weaves them together.

8:14 The matter-of-fact clarity with which the Lord speaks of “taking the Levites to Myself” to be in service to the Children of Israel, in lieu of the first-born. The Lord states very clearly that the first-born of man and beast of the Children of Israel were sanctified to Him, as of the day He smote the first-born of the Egyptians. The juxtaposition makes it clear that the “taking of the Levites” was the quid pro quo, conveying the impression that although the Egyptians were our oppressors, we are all the Lord’s creation and our first-borns are no more precious to us than their first-borns were to them.

9: The rules of conduct for Passover.

In sentences 9:6, 9:7, two related issues are voiced by men who approach Moshe, concerned that they would be precluded from making the “sacrifice to the Lord at its appointed time” and that they would not be able to make the sacrifice “among the children of Israel.” The cause for their concern is translated as their defilement by virtue of being with a corpse (nefesh adam) which would preclude them from making the Passover sacrifice. Moshe asks them to stand by so he can hear what the Lord will command them. 

In 9:10 The Lord’s response is that if a man is unclean in spirit (using the same word “nefesh,” but in a context that would appear to mean spirit or soul) and on a distant road (an issue that had not been raised by the men who approached Moshe), they and their subsequent generations (an issue also not raised) shall also make Passover for the Lord. (Note: The word “spirit” and “soul” are used interchangeably in this Drash to allow the narrative to flow more smoothly, but they are intended to mean one and the same.)

And the Lord goes even further in 9:14, stating that if a stranger who dwells among you makes Pesach according to the laws and the statutes, the same statutes will apply to the stranger as to those who are born in the land.

In addition, the Lord says in 9:13, that a person who is pure in spirit (using the same word, “nefesh,” but there is little ambiguity in the meaning of the word as it is used here) and who has not been on the road does not make the Pesach, that soul (not person) will be cut off from its nation and that person (not soul) shall bear the sin. In this passage, the Lord speaks to the issue of community, but not in the context of the question as was originally raised.

The Lord’s response encompasses several substantive issues, but raises the question, what is the relevance of the Lord’s response to the issues raised by the men who approached Moshe? The question put before the Lord is narrow, translated as defilement by virtue of being with a corpse. But there are ways to become defiled (tomay), other than by being with a corpse. And why would the Lord raise the issue of the ability of future generations to participate in the making of the Passover sacrifice, if we are dealing only with defilement by virtue of being with a corpse? What is the relevance of being on the road? Being on the road, by itself, would not seem to restrict one’s ability to make the Passover sacrifice. (After all, aren’t we all on the road?) Why introduce the issue of a stranger who may dwell among you?

In the context of the setting of Mt. Sinai to deliver a commandment to make the Passover sacrifice to commemorate the significance of going from slavery to freedom, it would seem that the case brought to Moshe is only one of many issues that could be raised about who is or is not permitted to make the Passover among the children of Israel.

It would appear that any question of the relevance of the Lord’s response to the issues raised to Moshe could be resolved by translating “nefesh” as soul throughout these passages and “on a distant road” as metaphor. A first impression would be that the Lord’s response goes beyond the question posed by the men who approached Moshe, introducing such concepts as “a distant road” and “future generations,” but if “nefesh” is translated as soul or spirit throughout, the question posed to Moshe would then become, “We are mortals impure in spirit, why should we be denied the ability to make the sacrifice to the Lord at the appointed time within the midst of the children of Israel?” Everything would then fall into place. It would change the meaning from the narrow and the specific to the general and universal and in so doing, would become relevant to all of us. The larger question would acknowledge our humanity, in that our souls may stray and our actions may take us on a distant road. (Who among us, at one time or another in our lives, would be exempt?) The response addresses this human condition by saying that if we find our way back, or even if we are strangers who are pure in spirit, we are welcome. It is an all-embracing message that welcomes the pure in spirit, regardless of how they arrived, but makes it equally clear that purity of spirit without the actions to support it, is not enough.

12:1-12:15 And then there is the episode where Miriam’s and Aaron’s racial prejudice against Moshe’s wife and apparent indignation with the Lord for not having consulted with them as well, comes to the Lord’s attention. What follows again makes it clear that the Lord values ones spirit, emphasizing the importance of looking at people and situations in depth and not to make judgments based on the superficial, by referring initially to Moshe’s complete dedication as the frame of reference. (Sentence 12-3 stands alone, stating, almost parenthetically, that there is no more humble person than Moshe “on the face of the earth.”) The Lord then states angrily that they should have been afraid to speak against the Lord’s trusted servant Moshe, to whom the Lord speaks face-to-face and not in riddles, conveying the inappropriateness of their expectation that the Lord should have consulted with them on this matter. The issue is important enough for the Lord to speak directly to Aaron and Miriam, underscoring His message by striking Miriam with leprosy, “white as snow,” requiring her to be outcast for seven days before she could return to the encampment, as if to say, “How does it feel to be judged by the color of your skin?”

11:1 – 11:35 And as the complaining continues, Moshe intervenes on the nation’s behalf. As they travel through the desert on their way to the land that was promised to them, their necessities were met with the manna that was given to them, but they cried for the luxuries of meat, as well as the fish that were free in Egypt and the vegetables that were available to them in slavery.  Once again, it is a story of human behavior, the victim of circumstance who accepts the comfort of the familiar, even though it does not serve him well, preferring it to the unknown and unsettling prospects of change. Although they are on their way to the land that was promised to them, venturing into the unknown is a test of ones faith. What is faith, but the ability to go forward, not knowing? (Remember Avram in Lech Lecha? Where he leaves the comfort of the familiar and goes unquestioningly “to the land that I will show you.” And the Akedah, the ultimate act of faith?)  And as the responsibility for what appears to be a “nation of complainers” becomes too burdensome for Moshe, he turns to the Lord and says that “I cannot carry all this nation by myself,” stating simply that if this is the way it is to be and “if I have found favor in your eyes, then kill me.” In response, the Lord tells Moshe to assemble seventy elders of Moshe’s choosing who will share the burden of responsibility with Moshe, so that he does not have to carry it alone. And by the way, the Lord says to Moshe, tell the people they will have a month’s worth of meat, until it is coming out of their nostrils and is hateful to them, because they have become angry with the Lord who is among them, crying, why did you take us out of Egypt? (Moshe asked if it is possible to deliver enough fresh meat, fowl and fish to feed 600,000 people for a month and the Lord, in the Jewish tradition of answering a question with a question, asks Moshe if he doubts the Lord, which, of course, ends the conversation.) The quail were blown in from the sea (to a depth of about two cubits, so no one had less than ten chomers, conveying that there was much more than enough for everyone) and the people spent a couple of days (and a night) gathering them up and proceeded to gorge themselves, at which time the Lord hit them with a serious plague from which those who lusted after the meat died. (The poetic justice might have been even more evident and universal if the deaths had simply been attributed to indigestion from gluttony, rather than a plague from above.)

For the brief period they were assembled, the seventy elders were imbued with the spirit, but two, Eldad and Medad, continued to be imbued with the spirit and prophesied in the camp. When Joshua, who was serving Moshe heard about this, he told Moshe and said they should be locked up. Moshe suggested that Joshua might be jealous on Moshe’s behalf and that it could be an entire nation of prophets, if the Lord would spread His spirit among them. Once again, Moshe’s humility and wisdom are evident, protecting Joshua’s dignity by saying that he might be jealous on Moses’ behalf, while conveying the importance of rising above the superficial that enslaves us.

What weaves all these pieces together for me, is the “wandering” in the desert. It is a story of wandering through trial and error, of taking two steps forward and one step backward, of making choices and mistakes. The dramatic events of the Exodus captures the imagination, but is the introduction to a very human story of making the laborious and difficult transition from the victim mentality of slaves to the freedom of individuals responsible for their own actions (forty years is not a long time to effect such dramatic cultural change). It is a story of leaving behind enslavement to the transitory and superficial, a prerequisite toward the liberation of spirit as we come to understand and accept ourselves as we really are. It is a story of the humility that life thrusts upon us, not the humility to which we aspire. It is a story of the building of community based on shared beliefs, bound together by core values that endure (the issuance of the Ten Commandments at Mount Sinai, the event that changed the world forever). It is a universal story of the personal Exodus that transforms each of us, as we move from childhood to adulthood, finding the way through the desert of our own experience.

Parashat Emor

Parashat Emor

Iyar 20, 5772 ~ May 12, 2012

by Alex Hart

This parsha is always read around the time of Lag B’Omer, which we celebrated this past week. We may recall that a fatal illness affected 12,000 of Rabbi Akiva’s talmidim, with no more contracting the disease after this date. The Talmud in Yevamot teaches us that this illness struck the students due to a lack of respect for each other and as such, many attribute this to divine punishment. But Rabbi Yosef Telushkin, in his book ‘A Code of Jewish Ethics’ elucidates with a more accessible interpretation for these deaths: “Bad manners, epitomized by a refusal to show one’s colleagues honor and respect, causes animosity amongst people.” Therefore, when Rabbi Akiva and his disciples joined Bar Kochba’s rebellion against Rome, it is possible that this brewing ill will made it impossible for the students to coordinate their efforts and this made them more vulnerable to the Roman attacks which resulted in their deaths. This theme of antagonism sadly, is recurrent in our past, with a range of tragic consequences. For example, during the 2nd World War, Leo Baeck, the leading Reform rabbi in Germany, sent Rabbi Frank Rosenthal on a mission to the Lodz Ghetto Jews, with the aim of sharing a suggestion as to how some could be saved from the Nazis. The Lodz leaders would not listen to him. They harbored a bitterness towards the German, recalling an offensive response they had had when they had visited Berlin years earlier and Rosenthal’s mission was a failure.

Care of speech is a recurrent motif throughout the sedra and extends beyond our close circle: The following commandment appears in (Lev. 22:32).  כב  פרק , in לב פסוק: “ישראל בני בתוך ונקדשתי קדשי שם את תחללו ולא “You shall not profane my holy name that I may be sanctified in the midst of the Israelite people.”  This is the basis for the concept of Kiddush HaShem (sanctifying G-d’s name) and Chillul HaShem (profaning G-d’s name). The term Chillul HaShem extends beyond the Jewish nation and is applied to behavior that brings Jews into disrepute. Chief Rabbi J.H. Hertz, writing in 1936, had strong words on this subject: “Every Israelite holds the honor of his faith and of his entire People in his hands. A single Jew’s offence can bring shame on the whole House of Israel…Wherever Jews are guilty of conduct unworthy of their Faith, there the wild beast in man is unchained against Israel.”

Help is at hand. The parsha opens with the prerequisites of a Kohen. Each is to be physically perfect. My Dad joked painfully that my youngest brother would never have made Kohen (being a Yisrael notwithstanding) as he was born without a left hand. In this material world, yet also an age where we are taught to be accepting, how are we to understand these requirements? Those who are physically disabled were barred from the avodah? Rabbi Aryeh Carmell z’ts’l used to say that acts of Kiddush HaShem and Chillul HaShem are not defined by how they affect non-Jews’ opinion of us, but whether they are authentic Jewish values. Kiddush HaShem is doing the right thing, and Chillul HaShem is doing the wrong thing, whether our neighbors approve or not. How then can we understand that we are to value our words, yet dismiss the impaired? 

Rabbi Dardik helped to explain, advising that conversely, no Kohen is to be too eye-catching either. A Kohen was to be the stage manager, part of the wallpaper, ensuring that those bringing sacrifices could, without triangulation, focus with total concentration. 

In this past week’s ‘J’, Ira Israel examines the ‘crazybusy’ era in which we all seem to live. If we were to take the time to speak, not tweet, focus not post, the Spoken word would not become a lost art. The Chief Rabbi advises “Non-Jews respect Jews that respect Judaism” and thankfully, we have Shabbat and the chagim in which to switch off, bed in, focus and connect face to face.  A time in which to value that which is important to us as we complete the final days of the Omer and in which we are able to keep the maxim with which Rabbi Akiva is attributed uppermost כמוך לרעך ואהבת; a time for growth and introspection.

Parashat Tazria / Metzora

Parashat Tazria / Metzora

Iyar 6, 5772 ~ April 28, 2012

by Eugene Vorobeychik

The laws of tzarat (typically, and, it seems, inaccurately, translated as leprocy) are among the more puzzling.  First, there is the tzarat of the body, which seems like a skin disease.  The kohen diagnoses the disease, which renders one impure, and isolates the ill person from the rest.  So far, it has all the trappings of an infectious disease, but then comes the kicker: if the entire body is "infected", the person is rendered pure! But, this is only a part of the fun.  As it happens, there is also the "leprocy" of clothes, and of the house.  Again, one may, perhaps, argue that these contract an infectious disease, but then there is the following puzzle: one is enjoined to remove the furniture from the house before (!) the kohen gets there to diagnose the disease.  If we were truly concerned about an infection, surely we should be stringent about the items that may have contracted it in the house!

These points are not originally mine; they were made by R. David Hoffman in an attempt to cast doubt on the typical rational explanations of tzarat, such as that of an infectious disease in need of quarantine, which have been advanced by other commentators.

A midrash offers another explanation for tzarat: it is, the chazal posit, a contraction of two words that mean tale bearing.  Just as Miriam was stricken by the disease for belittling Moshe, a person stricken with tzarat is punished for speaking ill of another.  Other sources suggest that tzarat is a punishment for a series of other sins as well, such as robbery, pride, and greed.  In a nutshell, tzarat is a supernatural phenomenon, a miraculous sign for a person to mend their ways.

But why this particular sign, of all others?  Wouldn't it be easier for God to tell a person directly of the trasgression?  But easy is not the point: easy lessons rarely stick.  The Torah, therefore, prescribes a deeply symbolic, meaningful lesson. Rabbi S. R. Hirsch puts it as follows:

"...the whole person who, instead of using organs which are given to him for obtaining and practicing modesty, truth, for doing good and justice, spreading kindness, truth, and peace, has made himself the bearer and spreader of the very opposite of all these, and has shown himself as the object of hate and abomination of God, Who, accordingly, sends him the mark of His deep displeasure..."

Besides the symbolic significance, there is also experiential significance, as stated in Arakhin:

"Joshua b. Levi said: Why did the Torah prescribe for the metzora (leper) the special penalty of isolation outside the camp?  Because he separated a husband from his wife and a man from his fellow [by speaking lashon harah], let him be separated and 'dwell alone'."

I would suggest that there is another lesson in the punishment meeted out to the metzora.  Our lives are full of uncertainty, and there is often a need to create a perception of control.  The sins for which the metzora is punished can be viewed as particular pathological manifestations of an attempt to control the world around us: for example, lashon hara is an attempt to have control over the events surrounding others through narratives about them, and greed is an attempt to control our livelihood.  The punishment, therefore, is to take away control from the metzora over such basic things as where he dwells, and when he can reenter the social life, and place it entirely in the hands of another.  Just as Egypt became the experiential paradigm for many of the laws governing the relationships between people, tzarat, and halachot surrounding it, becomes the experiential basis for repentance.

Pesach: The Last Days

Pesach - Last Days

Nissan 21, 5772 ~ April 13, 2012

by Sara Liss-Katz

Because the last day of Pesach falls on Shabbat we begin this week’s Torah reading with D’varim 14:22. At first glance this section does not appear to have a direct relationship to Pesach; focusing instead on the responsibilities of individuals and the community. This section begins with the requirements associated with the second tithe to be provided to the Levites (after reserving the first tithe, T’rumah, the Kohen’s portion) in years 1, 2, 4 and 5 of the seven year shemittah cycle. The second (as well as the first) commands that each Jew travel to Jerusalem to deliver and partake in this tithe. Section 14:23 continues with the commandments in years 3 (and 6) “At the end of three years you shall take out every tithe of your crop in that year and set it down in your cities. The Levite can come, for he has no portion or inheritance with you; and the proselyte, the orphan and the widow who are in your cities, so they may eat and be satisfied in order that HaShem will bless you in all your handiwork that you may undertake.” We see here the tithe for the 3^rd year is not a tithe directly related to a specific city, Jerusalem, but one that is in support of each and every local community. The tithe of the 3^rd year is the charitable contribution for the community.

D’varim 15:1-18 continues to describe charitable obligations such as the observance of the seventh year of shemittah, the forgiving of loans, freeing of slaves and giving to those less fortunate. . Here we begin to have an inkling of how this might be connected to Pesach. Section 15:15 states “You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt and Hashem redeemed you.” Our ancestors were slaves in Egypt, we were impoverished and suffering and HaShem heard our suffering. By fulfilling the commandments in this section to provide for those less fortunate in our communities we demonstrate by our actions that we are thankful and we remember.

D’varim 15:19-23 describes the consecration and sacrifice of firstborn animals. Although it is not directly referenced this section clearly has a relationship to Pesach and the Pesach offering. D’varim 16:1-8 describes the commandments that are focused on obligation of the individual to contribute to the Pesach sacrifices and observe the Pesach holiday which historically commenced with a pilgrimage to the temple in Jerusalem. This week’s maftir portion is taken from a section of Bamidbar 28:16-25 which describes the temple offerings for Pesach.

There are several themes running though these sections that relate to various aspects of Pesach. These include our historic communal obligations for pilgrimage to Jerusalem and temple sacrifice as well as specific responsibilities and obligations each of us has in support of our community. The maftir section describes obligations specifically dealing with Pesach offerings, which without the Temple in Jerusalem, we are not able to fulfill. We can, however, observe the commandments with regards to charity as described in D’varim15:1-19. The commandment to support those less fortunate is do-able and more important than ever. As it states at the end of D’varim 15:11, “… for destitute people will not cease to exist”. This gives each of us the opportunity to provide redemption to others. Our ability to provide charity is a precursor to a desired, greater redemption for the Jewish community. The pairing of this week’s haftorah, Isaiah 10:32 – 12:36, linking each individual’s acts of love and kindness with national salvation further supports this concept.

I especially love the holiday of Pesach and especially the Seders because they take an historic event and make it ongoing and timeless. Pesach reminds us of our delivery and redemption, “in every age” - the historic exodus from Egypt, our ancestors recovery from the destruction of the temple and every other misfortune that has befallen us throughout history. In this Torah reading, we learn of many of the laws that give structure to the community, in terms of tithes and charitable obligations. We also delve in to aspects of the community that serve to give us a reminder that we are not to function as individuals only, that we are and will remain as part of a community. It is when we put these two elements together that we can see where the strength that comes from these two elements and that with Hashem’s constant patient guidance we have been able to overcome many obstacles that have been placed in our path, and yes to even hope for a better future. That we, as Jews, were not only able to survive the destruction of something as central to our religion as the Temple but to grow and thrive is a miracle from Hashem – to remember and celebrate. The history embodied in the Pesach story is repeated each year calling us to take a concentrated look at the meaning of freedom, community and the part that each individual plays to achieve it. We retell the story of the exodus from Egypt while reminding ourselves that redemption is communal as well as individual – historic and ongoing.

The miracle of Passover reinvents itself anew for each of us every year as we grow and our own personal redemption is influenced and redefined by events which shape our lives in the “here and now”.

This Shabbat we are reminded that while we no longer have a temple where we can come to sacrifice and worship together we have Pesach a holiday that links us, as individual Jews to each other and to an historic time and place and a reminder that redemption – both personal and national, is possible.

Pesach

Pesach

Nissan 15, 5772 ~ April 7, 2012

by Neska

With Thanks to Hashem For Sheila and me turning 73...

Yirat Hashem (fear/awe) is the beginning of all things. It says, "The beginning of wisdom is awe of Hashem." Yirat Hashem comes from recognizing that the world is a creation on the deepest of all levels. From Rebbetzin Tzipporah Heller. I underline recognizing because she does not say understanding: that is beyond me.

I have left my home

I can hardly believe it

I can't believe it

but I know it is so because

I am no longer there.

I am following a man called Moshe

who grew up in the house of Paro

Still he is a Jew

as I am a Jew – whatever that means.

I remember my parents telling me that

this Hashem made a promise to their ancestors

and their ancestors before them

that one day

one day

this Hashem would hear our crying and moaning

and

this Hashem would remember

this Hashem would remember that he made a promise

to bring us out of Egypt

and take us to a Holy Land

where we would be free to live our lives with

this Hashem.

I can hardly believe it.

I am walking out of Egypt with at least a million people – (I have heard that 80% stayed behind)

and we are trusting

this man Moshe to take us to this

Holy Land

and I don't know how long it will take

and I don't know how we will get there

but I feel inside

that I must trust

this feeling

this small voice

this glimmer in my body

that simply says

Trust.

It will not be until the Mishkan has been built, erected and the Clouds of Glory is Filling It that our leaving Egypt will finally be over. But I do not know this as I leave Egypt. I do not know at this time that I will soon see this Hashem's voice in front of me...so powerful so vibrant so persuasive so awesome...that I will simply cry from a joy I have never ever before experienced. I do not know at this time that we will survive on the manna that Hashem sends us, that we will celebrate Shabbos as free people and our spirits will soar unlike our spirits on Shabbos in Egypt. I do not know at this time that we will see miracle upon miracle upon miracle from this Hashem and we will still fail as a people when Moshe goes up the mountain and we lose sight of him, our leader who holds us together with his brother Aaron. We become afraid. And because we are new at trusting, we will lose our trust, even in Aaron, and become frightened beyond being frightened, I do not know any of this on the first day of my starting my journey...but then again....almost none of us know this on the first day we begin our journey to Hashem...from wherever we are in our tight narrow places.

...Blessed is The Holy One Who Takes Us Out Of Egypt Every Day...even though we may not recognize it...until later.

Chag v'Kasher Sameach. Shabbat Shalom....