B"H

G-d Is A Bloodthirsty Thirteen Year Old Boy With ADD (Parshat Matot)

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.

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Is This All Made Up? (Parshat Chukat-Balak)

Chukat-Balak is the kind of parshah that makes you think the ancient Hebrews were dropping acid while codifying the Torah.

The parshah in a nutshell, thanks to our bearded brethren at Chabad…with jokes and off-color commentary by Patrick Aleph:

After 40 years of journeying through the desert, the people of Israel arrive in the wilderness of Zin. Miriam dies and the people thirst for water. G-d tells Moses to speak to a rock and command it to give water. Moses gets angry at the rebellious Israelites and strikes the stone. Water issues forth, but Moses is told by G-d that neither he nor Aaron will enter the Promised Land.

The moral of the story is that even the greatest of leaders have a bad day. I love the fact that God puts up with every whiney complaint that the Hebrews through His/Her way, but the second that Moses gets angry, God punishes him. Totally. Unfair.

Venomous snakes attack the Israelite camp after yet another eruption of discontent in which the people “speak against G-d and Moses”; G-d tells Moses to place a brass serpent upon a high pole, and all who will gaze heavenward will be healed. The people sing a song in honor of the miraculous well that provided the water in the desert.

Here’s some insane Hebrew logic:

Idolatry is bad. God is the only God. However, if venomous snakes are attacking you, feel free to make an idol to them and you’ll be healed, Vatican Miracle-style. I think this might be the wrong religion?

Balak, the King of Moab, summons the prophet Balaam to curse the people of Israel.

Wow. Someone hates the Jews. Shocking.

On the way, Balaam is berated by his ass,

Hahaha…you said “ass”.

…who sees the angel that G-d sends to block their way before Balaam does. Three times, from three different vantage points, Balaam attempts to pronounce his curses; each time, blessings issue instead.

Balaam and I apparently have the same problem: we try to say one thing and the opposite comes out.

The people fall prey to the charms of the daughters of Moab and are enticed to worship the idol Peor. When a high-ranking Israelite official publicly takes a Midianite princess into a tent, Pinchas kills them both, stopping the plague raging among the people.

Murder is justified if it keeps people from gettin’ busy behind a tent. Unless of course you’re David, who had 400 wives and concubines. In that case, you’re a tzadik.

So you get the drift. All of the different elements of this Torah portion have a weirdly made up, hypocritical feel to them. And that’s totally OK with me. I can handle the fact that I am supposed to learn holiness from murderers, talking donkeys, and a God who has messed up priorities. None of this makes any sense. And guess what? Life doesn’t make sense most of the time.

Sometimes, you just have to follow the white rabbit down the hole and see where you end up. So turn on, tune in and drop out…you have my utterly non-rabbinic permission.

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Parshah Shemini

By Michael Sabani

A lot happens in this week’s Torah portion, Shemini, and there is a lot to try to understand. According to my understanding, the ONE thing that is easy to learn about the Torah is that you will always learn something new! No matter how many times you read the Torah you will always come across something new, something that you didn’t notice before, and this one little thing can change the focus of the whole portion for you. And just like life, it is often the smallest things that can make the biggest impression.

 

In Shemini we see Aaron and his sons officially take over as Kohanim, as priests. A fire bursts forth from G-d and consumes the offerings on the Altar, and the Shekhinah comes to dwell in the Sanctuary.

 

Now coming into this portion, I thought the big story was what happens next: Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu offer a “strange fire” and they die before G-d. They die. This is a big deal! The eldest sones of the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, are consumed by Hashem at the time of their inauguration. There is much debate as to what actually happened, if they died because they offered an unauthorized sacrifice, or to put a positive spin on it, some interpretations are that they were so holy that G-d just snapped them up right there as a gift. Really, we don’t know why. Sometimes we don’t have a clear answer as to why things happen,. The Torah, like life, is sometimes mysterious.

So then we get to the laws of kashrus, the kosher laws. Surely, if the story of Nadav and Avihu doesn’t grab me, the laws telling us what we can and can’t eat will make a big impression. And it does, to a point. I mean, we learn in this portion about how even what we eat can be used to serve G-d, to create holiness that can sanctify our lives.

But the whole time I read this portion I kept thinking about what happens right at the beginning. Moses and Aaron are standing at the Altar, and Moses has to tell Aaron, “Come near to the Altar…”.

“Come near.”

You see, Aaron was afraid to come near to Hashem. He still felt guilty for his part in the debacle of the golden calf. He didn’t feel worthy enough to serves as the High Priest; he knew his weaknesses and recognized where he had gone wrong and felt ashamed of his mistake.

And it’s at this point Moses tells Aaron the thing that, for me, became the new focus of the portion.

“It is precisely because you possess the attribute of shame that you have been chosen” (Degel Machneh Efraim). I had never noticed this commentary before, but it makes sense to me. I can feel that shame, that sense of not measuring up to the task G-d has put before me. It is only when we know, deeply, in the root of our being, when we have done wrong, that we can truly move beyond it. This is Aaron being forgiven, and learning how to grow.  And this is what G-d wants, for us to be abel to forgive ourselves and to move forward.

How often do we feel confronted with something that we don’t think we are up to? And how often are our skills, which are not recognized by ourselves, pointed out by our brothers and sisters? Sometimes it takes another who is close to us to point out what we are truly capable of, in spite of what we may have done in the past.

I invite you to be a Moses for your brothers and sisters. Lift them up and point out to them the areas in which they are strong. They might be int he midst of a struggle you are not aware of.

On the flip side, I also invite you to be like Aaron. Listen to those who care about you, and trust that they are right when they tell you that with G-d’s help, you are strong enough for the tasks you are faced with, and learn how to grow, and move forward.

 

 

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Parshah Pekudei

This week’s parshah, Pekudei, sees the completion of the Mishkan, the portable Tabernacle that serves as G-d’s dwelling place amongst the Israelites as they travel. Moses does a little accounting (hey, he’s the executive director of a non-profit organization, it’s in the job description!), and all of the pieces are brought together to be erected.

Here’s where we see two things that are pretty special.

First, Moses gets a special honor. Moshe hadn’t been involved with the actual construction of the Tabernacle. While he had relayed instructions to Bezalel, the “General Contractor” appointed by G-d, Moses didn’t actually get a chance to physically get in there and get his hands dirty like all of the other Israelites. Knowing this, Hashem gives Moses a special opportunity. According to Rashi, the workmen brought the pieces to Moses.

When Moses saw how heavy all the pieces were, he exclaimed, “How am I going to lift his whole thing up?”

G-d told him, “Don’t worry! You just do your best, I will do the rest.”

So Moses moved to lift the Tabernacle, and the it raised up by itself!

What does this mean? Hashem is telling us that when there is work to be done in G-d’s honor, what really matters is that we try. As long as we make an attempt, we win. Especially when it comes to creating a holy space for G-d to dwell, there is no failing in the service of Hashem.

Secondly, Pekudei speaks about the anointing and blessing of Aaron and his sons as priests. The Torah says, “and so shall it be that their anointment shall be for them for eternal priesthood for their generations” (Shemos/Exodus 40:15). Haamek Dvar (a commentary on the Torah by Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin of Voloshin), tells us that before this time the blessing given to the priests had only been for them, and was not passed on to their children, but now the blessings extends to them and the generations that follow.

Inherited holiness? What does that even mean?

I understand this to mean that the capacity for holiness is inherent in all creation. We all have the potential to be holy and create holiness in others. What gets passed on is the key to unlock this potential. Jewish tradition is one that passes on the secrets of unlocking this holiness, so we have an obligation to those around us and the generations that follow to be an example of that holiness, and show the world that we all have the capacity to be holy, and we all hold the key. The real secret is that we don’t have the key for our own potential! Our key can only unlock the heart of another! Just as the Israelites couldn’t build the Tabernacle one by one, they had to help each other, so do we have to help each other realize their potential for holiness. It is only in helping others that we can truly help ourselves.

 

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Parshat Sh’mot Slideshow Extravaganza!

A little something different this week. Enjoy!

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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.

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Parshah Ki Teitzei


More commandments in this Torah portion than any other. So this will be like a dvar on a dvar.

How do we make these commandments work in daily life? Two ways: taking the past and make yourself an extension of it. Saying to yourself, “this is the way it was back then, and so this is how we do it now”. This is Orthodoxy. The other way is to make your values the same as the Hebrews, making the Hebrews feminist, vegan-anarchists or whatever you may be.

Here’s the problem: we live in a different world than the Hebrews. Our values, and their values are completely different. And it’s important to recognize and celebrate those differences. Sometimes they were right, and sometimes our modern values are superior to theirs.

Bottom line: be yourself. And by the way, if you read this week’s Torah portion literally, don’t take any “beautiful captives”. They call that “abduction” and “human trafficking” now.

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Parshat Shoftim: Quit Being a Power Nazi

“Justice, justice, you shall seek.” Parshat Shoftim is the Torah portion where we get to feel like Tikkun Olam-aholics and Social Justice Champions. The environmental crowd uses Shoftim to make the case for Al Gore’s livelihood and the LGBT crowd will surely use Shoftim to talk about the overturning of Prop 8, while the other side of the aisle will be screaming Fair Tax and War on Islamo-fascism at the top of their lungs. But let’s talk about something more interesting than politics.

Why is justice repeated twice in “justice, justice, you shall seek”? Isn’t it good enough to say, “seek justice” without the clever poetics?

The Jewish tradition is big on numbers and the number two has its own significance. Two, the Kabbalists believe, is the number for fellowship…and that seems to make sense. There are two parts to the Torah, oral and written, that are in fellowship with each other. One Torah isn’t “more right” than the other. They compliment each other. “Two people shall become one flesh”…how that’s fellowship. How about the two angels in Sodom and Gamorrah? Or the fact that we light two candles on Shabbat and that when a man studies in yeshiva, he studies with a partner?

This week’s Torah portion talks justice, but justice can’t be administered by one person. From the beginning, we learn what justice should be in fellowship. No one person, no matter how smart they are or just they are has all the right answers. Great things come from partnership.

Short and sweet, that’s the lesson of the week. Go with G-d and bring a friend!

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Parshah Re’eh

Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17

Monotheism in a nutshell, all laid out. Make the change you want to see!

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Parshah Devarim

Deuteronomy 1:1-3:22

It’s hard enough imagining a time without the internet, let alone books. But that’s what it’s like to be an ancient Hebrew. Moses keeps repeating these same stories about the People over and over again, not because he’s lecturing or thinks that the Hebrews are too stupid to remember, but because there isn’t exactly a library of Jewish history sitting around the traveling camp.

It’s like in the book Fahrenheit 451 where an underground society of people called “book-keepers” each memorize a book in order to preserve knowledge. In the same way, Moses is turning each of his people into a living book…a living Torah, in fact. Instead of writing all the laws and stories on parchment, he demands that each person become a Torah in themselves, and collectively, the People of the Book.

One thing that particularly struck me about the portion this week was Moses recalling the time he appointed judges and magistrates to help him “mete out justice” and teach “the word of G_d”. Moses is basically saying:
“Hey, remember that time I tried to do everything myself and I couldn’t? Yeah, well you can’t either. Ask for help from each other and together anything can be accomplished.”
If even Moses himself, the pinnacle prophet of Judaism needed to get help from those around him, how much more do we? This is one of the key teachings that he leaves with the Israelites as they head into the Promised Land: you will need help, and you have to look to each other for it. No one, not even the prophet of G_d Almighty can do it alone.

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