B"H

Parshah Metzorah

By Michael Sabani

This week’s Torah portion, Metzorah, arrives amidst a number of Torah portions that are quite often difficult to reconcile with modern thinking.

In last week’s portion we learned about the signs of the metzora, a condition that is the result, the Torah tells us, of a spiritual malady which puts the person in a state of ritual impurity.

This week we hear how the person who is recovered from the tzaraath is cleansed by the Kohen, the priest, with an elaborate ritual involving two birds, some spring water in an earthen vessel, cedar, a red thread, and some hyssop.

When a person is declared a metzora, they are forced out of the community. They are shunned and tear their clothes like those who are in mourning. They have to call out “Impure! Impure!” to warn others to keep their distance.

We also learn this week that the affliction that can cause a person to manifest signs of metzora can also afflict a person’s clothes and even their home! This is very interesting.

And this is the message I was able to take from the portion this week:

We are told by the Sages in the Talmud that there may be many reasons for a person developing the signs of the metzora and the tzaraath is a punishment for having an evil tongue, for lashon hara, for speaking behind another’s back.

Now, whether this disease or whatever it was is a literal punishment for someone speaking behind someone else’s back is not for me to say. The Torah says what the Torah says.

However, the truth of the matter as it appears to me is that there is a strong and obvious correlation between what happens when a person engages in lashon hara and when a person is declared a metzora.

Using wrong speech, spreading gossip and being dishonest has consequences. Think about how this can be true. When (and I say when because I do it too, NO one is perfect!) I engage in lashon hara, I am doing something socially damaging. I disrupt relationships and build walls between people. It can affect my relationships, even those in my own home.

By engaging in lashon hara I can endanger my livelihood, losing my friends, and maybe even my job. What I am getting at is that a person who compulsively engages in lashon hara, well, their worldview seems to look a lot like someone who has been declared a metzora: all alone, no job, no friends, destitute.

Our actions, and even our speech have effects that we can’t comprehend. It is well within the realm of possibility to lose one’s livelihood over misspoken remarks. I ask you to be aware of those times we speak out of turn, and to remember the power that our words have, both over the lives of others, and the power that they have over our own lives, and the role of the Kohen, the role of our ability to bring healing and forgiveness and inclusion.

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

Parshah Tzav

By Michael Sabani

In this week’s Torah portion, Tzav, we learn all about the duties and right of the Kohanim, the priests, who offer the sacrifices in the Sanctuary. We hear about how the fire must be kept burning all the time, the clothes that the priests must wear, and details on the portions of the offerings that that are given to the Kohanim to eat.

 

Interesting…

We are told that certain potions of only particular offerings are given to the Kohanim, such as portions of the Sin and Guilt offerings, but in the case of the Peace offering, the bringer also eats a portion, as well as the Kohanim. I am struck by this situation.

 

Think about this. Hashem has those who do some of the highest work, the most difficult and messy jobs, eat of the offerings that others bring. Can you imagine waiting for someone to bring a sacrifice for you to be able to eat?

 

But here’s the flip side to that, even in our mistakes, or more clearly especially in our mistakes, G-d gives us the opportunity to do good. In the Peace offering, we can eat of it ourselves, but when we make mistakes part of the repairing that happens is us providing for others. So even when we miss the mark, Hashem is able to transform that into a blessing, into something that helps the community.

 

Let us take a moment and consider where where we may have missed the mark. What have we done, not in the past year, not in the past month, not even in the past week, but today! Where have we missed the mark today? Were we angry with a loved one? Did we curse at another driver on the road? Did we ignore the needs of those suffering around us? Did we act in frustration or deceit?

 

Think about these things and realize that in our mistakes is the power to repair. Through these mistakes lie the power to not only repair what we have broken, but to help repair others as well.

 

Hashem has given us a gift, not of being able to miss the mark, but of being able to realize where we have missed, step back up to the line, and aim again. And in this time, I pray we all hit the bullseye.

 

 

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

Tablets (Parshat Ki Tisa)

Ki Tisa:

Let’s put this in a more here and now frame of reference, complete with today’s slang. This week, we learn that Moses has a meltdown. He looks around, and the people are worshiping a Golden Calf? What the heck. Hello? Did anyone hear what Moses is saying?

He is trying to be a spokesperson for G_d, and people are just being blind. They have a contract with G_d. So, Moses is like “Oh no you din’t” and is trying to figure out how to get their attention. It does not matter what era it is, we will always find “our time” to be noisy with distractions, temptations and information that may or may not be wrong. Anyway, Moses is furious and needs to keep his job as spokesperson, and he breaks the tablets. OK finally, that gets the crowds attention. But what does this really mean? What symbols can we see here?

I see a few. First, the tablets are like a contract. The contract literally is broken, but the contract spirit is not. We are like the tablets. We may have hard times, and break, and like Moses, even with the best intentions we may fly off the handle, but our spirit is intact, and as long as we look inward, we can heal.

Also, we learn here about having dedication and passion. One really doesn’t get mad unless they have a vested interest or passion. Think about it. If you really don’t care about a job and don’t need the money, do you care if you get fired? No. You probably are not putting your full self into the job either. But if you love a job and feel wrongfully fired or laid off, you probably have emotion brewing, because you felt you put your all into it and you felt it was a part of you. So, when you see Moses with this action, it teaches that a little passion can go a long way. If you love what you do, if you love who you are, if you even try to stand by your beliefs, you’ll probably fare well in life, because your emotion is a result of your inner work, your passion.

Having a passion for Torah and the lessons within is the same. It may or may not always bring emotions upon first read, but if you start to look for the lessons, and how they represent your life you start to feel emotion; the Torah lives within you, it is a part of you. Like the tablets, there may be areas that are broken, but the spirit, the passion, lives.

A question to ask yourself: When is the tablet of your life, beyond the commandments but how you live your entire life, sometimes broken but still very much alive and intact? What keeps it intact?

By Michele Paiva

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

Parshah Terumah: Tents and Tents-Ability

(Subscribe to R. Michael’s weekly D’var Torah at OneShul’s IndieYeshiva by clicking here)

In this week’s Torah portion, Hashem tells us all about the construction of the Sanctuary, how big each piece of acacia wood needs to be, what kind of cloth to make the tents and curtains out of, even how many boards to use when making the Sanctuary walls! (It’s 48, by the way.)

What we are seeing this week is G-d specifically communicating how to make a space in which to dwell, how to create a holy place to house G-d’s presence among us.

There are a few other things that stand out this week as well.

The people of Israel are called to bring offerings to help build the Sanctuary. Notice though, that they aren’t commanded to bring offerings, but Hashem says “from every person whose heart inspires him to generosity”. We are shown that the only way we can build a space for G-d to dwell among us is if we give freely and generously to make this space complete. It has to happen through our free will. G-d doesn’t just magically appear in our lives, we have to give to make it happen. And not only give, but work! Throughout the portion G-d tells us over and over, very specifically and repeating instructions many times, exactly how to build what is needed for Hashem’s presence to be amidst us. This tells us that not only to we have to give, but we have to work, and work hard. Anything that is worth doing is worth doing right. And G-d tells us so. Does Hashem really need a tent made of goat skins or gold covered acacia wood poles? Probably not. But we are called to give generously of our time, our sweat, and our prized possessions, in order to create a space of holiness in the world.

Another point is the constant demonstration that happens through the textile arts. Hashem says to make numerous multicolored curtains, and to connect them with each other with loops and clasps, so that, as the Torah says, “the Mishkan will be one”. Only through the presence of Hashem can the many become one, echad. This miracle of unity is only available through the power of Hashem’s presence.

Most strikingly, however, is the fact that this sanctuary that is being built is portable. The Israelites were to keep G-d’s presence with them wherever they went. G-d travels with us. G-d has brought us out of Mitzrayim, the narrow places, and reminds us that as long as we create that space, G-d will be with us.

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

The Smell of Despair: Parsha Vayeshev

By Jessica Moore

At first glance, Parsha Vayeshev seems like a pretty harsh and destructive time for G-d. Jacob is desperately praying that the generations of family woes will finally be over yet we see intense turmoil with Joseph and his brothers. The brothers eventually rough him up a bit and throw him in a pit. The Torah states that, “And they sat down to eat bread, and they lifted up their eyes and looked, and behold, a company of Yishme’alim came from Gilad with their camels carrying aromatic gum, balm, and ladanum, going to carry it down to Egypt” (Genesis 37:25). This is the caravan the brothers will sell Joseph into slavery. Let’s put this in perspective: your brothers hate you, they just beat you up, threw you into a pit for who knows how long, took your awesome coat, and sold you into slavery. Why do you care that the caravan you’re gonna be stuck on for your not-so-happy ride down to Egypt smells nice?

Simply put, while we’re rejoicing in our happiness or mourning our destruction, G-d is simply creating. All of the good and bad moments of our lives are simply moments in time of G-d constantly creating the world so that we can all reach our potential. We often don’t see the meaning behind our suffering until days, months, years or even generations later. However, G-d will never allow us to suffer an iota more than is necessary. Joseph’s suffering was necessary so that the humiliation would humble him. Also, this event would bring his family to Egypt, where they would escape the famine. Even further than that, it would bring the rest of Israel down to Egypt where they would eventually have to endure the pain of slavery as a nation; the path in which the Nation of Israel is redeemed, given the torah and brought to Eretz Yisroel. However, despite all that, Joseph was spared the discomfort of the normally pungent smells that would accompany a caravan. This was a small reminder from G-d that all was not lost and that Joseph would not have to suffer any more than absolutely necessary, even if just a small discomfort.

Often when we are struggling through a particularly difficult time we don’t even notice the seemingly small discomforts, or lack thereof. Yet, it is in these details that we might recognize G-d’s hints to us that every moment of mourning or rejoicing in our lives is just a fleeing moment of creation leading us to our full potential. This reminds me of one of my favorite King Solomon stories. The king wanted to humble one of his most trusted wise men, Benaiah. He asked Benaiah to find him a magic ring that would make a happy man sad, and a sad man happy. He knew that no such ring existed but wanted to bring a sense of humility to Benaiah since he was known to brag amongst the other advisors. After months of searching with no luck, Benaiah happened upon an old merchant in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He asked the old man if he knew of such a ring. The man took a ring from his wares and engraved some words. When Benaiah saw the engraving he knew he had found the ring. That night when the king asked him to produce the magic ring, everyone was surprise when Benaiah actually pulled out a ring. King Solmon saw engraved “Gam Ze Ya’avor” – “This too shall pass.” At that moment the king knew that all his wisdom, wealth and power were just fleeting things, and he was saddened by the thought. But our sufferings will pass as well, a thought that should always keep us happy and comforted.

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

Eat, Pray, Fight…With Your Wife (Parshat Ki Tavo)

What Do Apples, Prayer and Fighting With Your Girlfriend Have In Common? (Ki Tavo)

I’m psyched about Rosh Hashanah. I’m supposed to say that for spiritual reasons. But really, I like apples and honey.

This week’s Torah portion is about fruit. The first fruit, in fact. We’re supposed to give that up as a sacrifice to G-d. And, surprise, G-d will bless us. Kinda anti-climactic, but not every part of the Torah makes for good TV.

We’re always giving sacrifices to G-d. Animals, plants…heck, one time there was child sacrifice (luckily that worked out OK). It made sense back then to sacrifice animals and plants because we lived in a farm-based economy. Our whole lives were what we had to eat (and for most Jews, it still is!)

I don’t own a farm. I’m not sure I know what “threshing” means and half the Shabbat prohibitions don’t apply to me because I’m not into skinning animals and preparing hide. But I still have to give sacrifices.

The solution: prayer. Our economy now is Time and People Centered. Time, because time is money. And people centered, because our talent, our energy, our ideas, our creativity are the fuel for the economy…not vineyards and pastures. Prayer is a sacrifice because it takes away our time and it also takes away our ability to think about ourselves and all the things that we want at that moment. We’re giving it up for the Lord. And what are the “first fruits” of prayer? Well you guessed it: the Shacharit service! The morning prayer is the first fruit of the day; the first chance that we get to think about ourselves. Instead, we get to think about G-d.

Speaking of this morning, my girlfriend woke me up at 6AM after I had only slept for a few hours last night. She bought some clothes for me at Target and wanted to see how they fit…but I was tired and grumpy and told her to leave me alone. But finally I relented and tried the clothes on. I could have been a total jerk, but the first fruit of the day was having a happy spouse, and even though at the time I was mad and wanted to go back to sleep, I’m glad I tried the clothes on because my girlfriend has more control over my life than anyone else does (sorry HaShem, but you know it’s true) so I’m glad I could give her the first fruit of my day…because she blesses me all the time! And I got a new pair of pants.

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

Parshat Va’etchanan

Religion, for many Jews, is a meritocracy. Where you went to college/yeshiva, what branch of Judaism ordained you, what rabbis you studied under, what level of kashrut, negiah, shabbat you keep. This is a litmus test for how-Jewishly-you-can-be-trusted. The more hardcore you are, the better, even if people think that your understanding of Judaism is bogus. At least you have the spiritual resume to back it up.

But really, is this where holiness comes from? Does a person who goes to a black hat yeshiva really cleave to G-d and the Torah more than someone who went to a community college?

Moses seems to think that our destiny is not in the shul or the centers of learning. In fact, it seems like we’re going to seek G-d from the outside.

Just read…

“And the Lord will scatter you among the peoples, and you will remain few in number among the nations to where the Lord will lead you.  And there you will worship gods, man’s handiwork, wood and stone, which neither see, hear, eat, nor smell. And from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find Him, if you seek Him with all your heart and with all your soul.”
(Deut. 4:27-31)

This doesn’t seem like a really good ad for Jewish higher learning or Israel immersion. In fact, it seems like us Diaspora people have been part of the plan all along.

I’m really turned on by the phrase, “And from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find Him, if you seek Him.” It doesn’t say, “from the Chabad house, you will find G-d” or “in the corporate offices of the Jewish Federations you will find G-d” or “in the house of some learned scholar of the Torah, you will find G-d.” No! It says that from a place of idol worship, of disconnection from the greater Jewish community, from a place of sin…that is where we will find G-d.

Suddenly, the Diaspora looks a little nicer.

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

Parshah Matot-Massei

Sometimes reading the Torah is like reading a book written by a blood thirsty thirteen year old with attention deficit disorder. This week’s portion jumps, not so elegantly, from women taking vows, to killing the Midianites and stealing their stuff, then all of a sudden we’re diving up a bunch of land. The end, next chapter please.

And you wonder why more people don’t take the Torah seriously? It’s like cut-and-paste poetry. Once the story gets really good, G-d interrupts everything with a census or some obscure set of rules that makes no sense. Or it starts off really boring, and you give up half way, only to find out the really good stuff is toward the end.

The Torah doesn’t have a good beginning, middle and end. And it’s really not meant to, either. I think there’s three basic reasons for that.

First, the Torah is a reflection of life. And life doesn’t have a real beginning, middle and end. Sure, individual lives start and finish, but the legacy of humanity lasts forever (or at least until SkyNet and the Terminators finish us off). At any rate, Torah reflects life, and life is filled with low points, high points, boring, pointless interruptions, scandals, intrigue, and everything else…and sometimes the order of those things doesn’t make any sense.

Second, the Torah is a reflection of Creation. There’s a midrash that says that G-d looked into the Torah before creating the world. I like that. The Torah is flawed at times, and frankly, so is the world. Now, I’m not calling HaShem a crummy writer or a bad creator, but the world isn’t perfect, and if you read the Torah enough, you’ll find out that the Torah isn’t perfect all the time either.

Finally, the Torah is the reflection of the human soul…sometimes for better, and sometimes for worse. This week, we’re dealing with the souls of women and warriors, liars and hinderers, revenge-seekers and oppressors. Next week, the soul may change, and go in a new direction. But the Torah does us a huge favor and lets us see all sides of the soul. Hopefully, the soul doesn’t end either.

So what’s the bottom line? Don’t let the strange ups-and-downs of the Torah, the weird jumping back and forth from women-and-their-dads-to-blood-and-guts keep you from learning. Life, Creation, and the human spirit has its ups-and-downs, and its weird moments, too.

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

D’var For The 4th

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter

D’var Torah for Earth Day

Earth Day is a Jewish holiday!

Share this:
Share this page via Email Share this page via Stumble Upon Share this page via Digg this Share this page via Facebook Share this page via Twitter