D’var Torah

Long Live the Trees…and the Jewish Pope? (Parshat Shoftim)

August 17, 2015 By punktorah

In parsha Shofetim, Moshe continues his lengthy oration to the Israelites. He talks about government, specifically about setting up courts and “setting a king over” themselves. He says that the king should be a Jew, not a foreigner, and that he should not have many wives, nor should he have many horses, nor should he amass great wealth [17:14-17]. In other words, a king should be a humble, ordinary man. Further, the king should have a Torah scroll made for him and “read in it all his life…thus he will not act haughtily toward his fellows or deviate from the Instruction to the right or to the left” [17:20]. And so now I’ll ask you…does this mean that we are supposed to have a pope? Here’s what I mean: Judaism, if we are to take Mordechai Kaplan’s view, is a civilization. Civilizations have kings, presidents, prime ministers, and so on, to have an axis for their governments to revolve around; to have someone large-and-in-charge to run things, or at least to be a figurehead and sort of keep an eye on things. The Pope is kind of like that. His primary function, other than being a figurehead, is to dictate what is officially Catholic and what isn’t in terms of policy. Because Catholicism has a central hub, it remains both unified and uniform. So, should we have a pope of our own?

I would say no. Here’s why: Judaism encompasses a vast range of beliefs and ideas. We have a very spacious tent, and people with a lot of different views about God, the Torah, life, etc. take shelter under it. If we had a pope, or a theocratic king of some sort as is described in Shofetim, who decided what was officially Jewish and what wasn’t, a lot of people would leave our tent, break off, and start their own groups, just as happened with Catholicism, and those of us left in the tent would be alienated from who left and vice versa. We’re a small enough tribe without pushing people away by creating official doctrines and dogmas! What comes of not having a pope is that we are not a religion of beliefs, but of actions (mitzvot) and of a common past (Torah). Parsha Shofetim was written in a time long before we had such wide variations in belief and practice as we do now, a time when having a theocracy was possible and perhaps even desirable. But that time is past, and the most important thing now is to maintain our unity as a people. I think Judaism’s strength and vitality lies in its variety. I love that we have so many flavors: Orthodox Ripple, Conservative Chip, Reform Swirl, Reconstructionist Crunch, and so on. Each one of us may have a favorite flavor, but in the end, it’s all ice cream and it’s all delicious!

Another thing that strikes me about this Torah portion is the injunction against destroying the fruit trees of a besieged city [20:19-20]. I could talk, as many Jewish environmentalists before me have done, about how this represents a positive command against wanton destruction, an injunction against thoughtless waste and greed (ba’al taschit). What I’d rather do, though, is focus on the verse that says “Are trees of the field human to withdraw before you into the besieged city?” [20:19]. The Torah is telling us to listen to those who don’t have voices, and to protect those who can’t protect themselves. I consider this verse merely an extension to the Torah’s constant refrain of telling us to be kind to the stranger, the widow, the orphan, etc. This is the Torah’s shorthand for telling us to defend the defenseless, to help the helpless, and in general to support those in our community who need it. Trees are just another group in our community who need our help and can’t defend themselves.

Furthermore, trees figure very prominently in our tradition. The Torah itself is called a Tree of Life. It is said of the Baal Shem Tov that he was able to hear the voices of trees, and of King Solomon that he could understand the speech of the birds. Our tradition teaches us that listening to nature and immersing ourselves in the natural world can be a window to spirituality, a gate to wisdom. As summer draws to a close, don’t forget to take a little walk this shabbat and listen to the trees and the birds. You might find that they have much to teach you.

This week’s dvar written by Miriam Bak.

Parsha Behar-Bechukotai – Freedom and Slavery

May 20, 2015 By Russell McAlmond

Another good example of why Judaism needs to continue to evolve is this week’s parsha. Slavery is not condemned, but limited, particularly for Jewish slaves. As modern Jews we know that slavery should never be allowed, but this is more of a modern moral concept than an ancient one. No one should be allowed to own another individual, Jewish or not, but are there ways that modern people can become slaves in our 21st Century?

Freedom and slavery in our modern day may have different meanings. For example, if the government took more and more or your earnings in taxation to the point that very little was left for you, aren’t you a slave for the government? Another example may be if you accumulate large debts and have to work to pay them off – are you free? You may have seen the bumper sticker that says, “I owe, I owe, so off to work I go.” Freedom is not all about how much money you have to spend, but it will impact the kind of activities you may desire to do, and aren’t able to, because you lack the necessary funds.

Freedom of speech, thought and religion is also necessary for a free human being. It is our minds that define us, not our bodies. Being pressured to think a certain way or being forced to follow a religion is not freedom. In reality, all Jews are Jews of choice because one cannot be forced to be Jewish if they don’t want to identify as such. This is true of any other religion or ideology.

True freedom is about making the right choices so that you are not a ‘slave’ to another entity or your own debt. Living within your means, saving for the future and making wise financial decisions will help you have more freedom in life. Lifelong education and study will also help you be more free since gaining wisdom and enlightenment frees the mind. Recognizing your own uniqueness and never allowing anyone to label you or put you in a box is a sign of personal freedom.

Live to be free, not a slave, by making good choices. Your life will be happier and more successful by doing so.

Parsha Vayakhel – What Day Is Shabbat?

March 13, 2015 By Russell McAlmond

In today’s world we tend to live a 24/7 week where the days often seem to run together. The Monday through Friday workweek is not one that all of us have. Yet, as Jews, we are told in this week’s parsha of Vayakhel that we must not work on Shabbat (Friday sundown to Saturday sundown) or we may be put to “death.” But what about those of us who have responsibilities that require us to work on Saturday? How does the modern Jew try to observe Shabbat while recognizing our 24/7 interconnected world?

First, we know that no one is put to death in contemporary society for working on Saturday – nor would we assume anyone was in the past. The Torah tries to emphasize certain acts by making the punishment severe. But why even mention this? Because Shabbat truly is the most important day of the week for any Jew. If there is one act that draws most Jews together on a frequent basis it is the observance of Shabbat – a day of rest and peace. Is this important in our modern world? Absolutely! In fact, it may be more consequential to us in our social media world than at any other time in history. It is also critical for our spiritual health, and physical health, that we slow down and put things in perspective at least once a week.

If you have to work on the traditional day of Shabbat, then make another day of the week your day of peace, reflection and spiritual growth. Go ahead and light the candles, say the blessings, and sit down to a lovely meal with challah bread on Tuesday night if you work on Saturday. It is that important. Even if you can’t do it every week, try every other week or as often as you can. Set aside that time with your spouse, with your family, with your Torah studies or anything else that will make the day special for you.

What day is Shabbat? Shabbat is whatever day that will work on your schedule. G-d gave us Shabbat, in my humble opinion, not only to think of him, but because he knew that as sentient human beings we need a day a week to sit back and reflect. We need a day that is not about making more money or getting ahead on our goals. We need a day to ponder ideas that are at a much higher level than the ordinary everyday existence of life. We need the peace of Shabbat to bring a better quality to our lives and our families.

Make Shabbat a day of renewal and spiritual rejuvenation. Whatever day you choose, as Nike says, “Just Do It!” It will make a difference in your life.

Parshah Bo: The Power of Awareness

January 22, 2015 By Amanda Martin

Reconciling the concept of divinity with the ruthless slaughter of infants can prove a barrier of significant challenge, and one that may even be insurmountable. We are called to do so when reading this week’s parshah, and we are also asked to do so when viewing the morning’s global news report. Innocent people, many of them children, lose their lives in horrific and senseless acts every day. The luxuries of our western lifestyles appear gratuitous when compared with the daily reality of so much of the world. How do we, as Jews, actualize the command for each of us to love our God with all our heart, soul and strength? How do we maintain the fortitude to pursue justice and be that brilliant, shining light for all people?

The death of the first born is the tenth and final plague of the Exodus story, recounted every year during the Pesach seder. The story we tell around our tables, while ostensibly about freedom from slavery, includes much suffering. Lest we fail to appreciate the trials our ancestors endured, we dip our parsley in salt water to mimic the taste of tears, and choke down horseradish for the sharp sensation of bitterness on the tongue. Perhaps it is this emphasis on suffering which prompted a friend of mine to complain of the remarkable dearth of joy and celebration in Jewish holidays.

Appreciating the incalculable suffering of others, both historically and today, is valuable and necessary if we are to co-create a more just and gentle world. Understanding the persecution of our own people over the course of centuries is relevant when evaluating the anti-Semitism that now flourishes in some parts of the globe. Yet residing permanently in such a morass can be dangerous. I believe most humans are inherently empathetic, and we hurt to some degree when we learn of the pain of others. Our hearts are not invincible and our minds are not immune from the endless toll of violence, hatred and torment our news media so deftly provides. If our Exodus story were rendered in headline format, it may include such gems as, “Thousands Afflicted with Boils, No Known Remedy,” “Locusts Devour Crops, Famine Imminent,” and “Babies Slaughtered, Pharaoh Blames Hebrew God.” The information can be overwhelming. It can easily suffocate our joy, hope, and faith in divinity.

These moments call for practical intervention, returning us to the beauty of the present moment. Lengthy treatises on the dynamics of faith and the nature of God exist in abundance in our tradition. But when we are worn down by the reality of a child torn to pieces when her small body is used as a bomb, or when we burn with both anger and helplessness reading of attacks on synagogues, we need something less densely philosophical. When we honor our people through the yearly reading of the Exodus story, and the tenth plague sticks uncomfortably in our throats, all of the lofty invectives of Rabbis extolling us not to question the divine plan won’t make those murdered children any easier to accept.

This morning, I enjoyed the privilege of awakening next to someone I love, who loves me in return. There is much divinity to be found in snuggling. I climbed a mountain, ascending to its peak as the sun rose in the sky. There is peace and incomparable beauty in the wilderness outside my door. I ate lunch – itself a miracle in a world where so many go hungry – and savored an eggplant steamed to perfection. So much simple joy exists in how we choose to feed ourselves. On Pesach, we recline on cushions because the comfort of freedom is nothing less than sublime. We sing songs and hide the afikomen because silliness and laughter surely make life sweet. To live life fully, to cultivate open-hearted happiness, we must not linger too long in the shadows. We must be able to shift our awareness from a horror that deserves to be known, to a more perfect and mundane moment. Yes, a Yeshiva student praying with Chabad was stabbed by an assailant explicit in his anti-Semitic motives. We must recognize this reality. The story must be told. Any yet, we must also be able to move our awareness to the patch of sunlight illuminating dancing dust motes, or the chatter of birds outside the window. The perfection of these moments must be recognized, as well.

If we fail to redirect our awareness, we risk our joy and happiness. If we remain mired in the indisputable ugliness of our world, we risk losing the better parts of our nature which may only be nurtured through our world’s indisputable beauty. It isn’t always easy. It may seem flippant, even irresponsible. But if we are to ever truly feel a love for God, if we are to do the difficult work of justice, we need to be responsible for the tender care of our own souls. Parshah Bo calls us to tell the story of oppression. It does not ask that we reside there.

Parshah Sh’mot: I Won’t Do What You Tell Me

January 9, 2015 By Amanda Martin

Grrrl-power badassery shines from the pages of our Torah this week! Although Parshah Sh’mot is usually defined by baby Moshe in a basket, a burning bush, and a debate with God, it also features possibly the first recorded act of civil disobedience in history. An act perpetrated by two women of courage, who with one small decision widened their influence from midwives to reproductive rights activists with mad birthing skills.

A new Pharaoh has ascended the throne, one unfamiliar with the history of the Israelites. By this point, their numbers have increased substantially and although their labor clearly benefits both the royal court and the Egyptian state, the Pharaoh finds their presence odious. In a severe, short-sighted and ultimately nonsensical attempt to rid them from the land, he calls upon Shifra and Puah. “The King of Egypt spoke to the Hebrew midwives, one of whom was named Shifrah and the other Puah, saying, ‘When you deliver the Hebrew women, look at the birthstool: if it is a boy, kill him; if it is a girl, let her live” (Exodus 1:15-17).

Deeply connected to the lives of Israelite women, Shifra and Puah have witnessed every aspect of reproductive life. They have bonded with women preparing for pregnancy, labor and delivery. They have ushered into the world beautiful, healthy babies. Shifra and Puah have deftly facilitated the grieving process for those who delivered children stillborn or lost their babies in miscarriage. They are frequently sought after for advice regarding infertility, child spacing, and any complications that might arise during and after pregnancy. When a girl reaches first menstruation, it is Shifra and Puah who counsel her on the magic of her body. Shifra and Puah, trained from their earliest years to guide their sisters through the unique and powerful journeys of their bodies, flatly reject Pharaoh’s order.

I’d love to know the conversation between Shifra and Puah immediately following their meeting with the Pharaoh. Did they plan their subversion in detail, evaluating different ruses to determine the most effective? Or did they simply laugh at the absurdity of the suggestion that any woman trained as they were would slaughter a child? Did they mutter riotously about the Egyptian control of every aspect of the Israelites’ lives? I personally enjoy envisioning a dialogue comparable to Rage Against the Machines’ “Killing in the Name,” but one of the wonderful things about Torah is that you can imagine this scenario however feels empowering to you.

Shifra and Puah play brilliantly on the Pharaoh’s racism towards their people when called to account for continuing male births. They tell the Pharaoh that, much like animals in the field, Israelite women give birth too quickly – a baby simply arrives before the midwives have a chance to do Pharaoh’s dirty work. Remarkably, he accepts their explanation. For their righteous actions, God rewards both midwives with families that manifest into dynasties and Pharaoh is left to find other solutions to his perceived problem.

Much discussion continues on the patriarchal tenor of our Torah. What makes our book a living document, however, is everything you and I bring to its reading. Show up to Torah study armed with whatever philosophy you like, and see what you find. Look for yourself in the Torah’s pages – both who you are and who you’d like to be. Ultimately, our sacred text is about people very much like you and me. What you get from it is largely determined by what you give to it.

Akiva Yael is a positive and enthusiastic participant in all that is holy, including Torah study, powerlifting and the beauty of our world.

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