Category: D’var Torah

Shabbat Shalom! – Emor

Image: Rahav Concealing the Spies (Joshua 2). Photo by Patrick Grey, some rights reserved.

I have to confess that Parashat Emor is one that I find personally troubling. Among other things, it describes the strictures put on the kohanim, the priestly class, in order to maintain their ritual purity for the sacrificial cult. Those strictures include some mysterious and troubling words about women.

The Torah is remarkably concerned with the status of women associated with the wives and daughters of the kohanim. Those rules are described in detail in Rabbi Sylvia Rothschild’s d’var Torah this week, Parashat Emor: the priest and the prostitute or how a women’s sexual history is mysteriously powerful in the ritual system. Her examination of this portion of the parashah is both scholarly and accessible, and I recommend it.

I am troubled by the same things that bother Rabbi Rothschild, with an addition. Later in the development of the halakhah (commonly translated “Jewish Law”) another stricture was added, that a female convert may not marry a kohen. This is the case in Orthodox and Conservative Judaism, despite the words of Maimonides:

There is no difference whatever between you and us. (Responsum to Ovadiah the Proselyte)

Reform Judaism does not concern itself with boundaries around the kohanim, as Rabbi Rothschild teaches in a different d’var Torah:

…the Reform response takes into account both the reality that whatever you may believe about your family the hereditary priesthood cannot be a status you can be certain about; and also has moved away from laws specifically to enable Temple ritual, so given that there are substantial disabilities in Jewish law for people identified as Cohanim, we have decided that this category is no longer of importance to us and have effectively removed this particular boundary… – Parashat Emor: the importance of knowing our boundaries

Where do we get this rule about converts and the kohanim? There are two schools of thought. The first was expressed by Rabbi Abraham ben David, known as the Ra’avad in the 12th century, citing a verse from the prophet Ezekiel:

Neither shall they [the priests] take for their wives a widow, nor her that is divorced; but they shall take virgins of the seed of the house of Israel, or a widow that is the widow of a priest. – Ezekiel 44:22

The second school of thought, which is dominant, actually comes from Maimonides, the same teacher who made the extraordinarily generous statement I cited above. He cites Tractate Yevamot of the Talmud as an elucidation of Leviticus 21:7, a verse from our Torah portion:

They shall not take a woman that is a zonah, or profaned; neither shall they take a woman put away from her husband; for he is holy unto his God. – Leviticus 21:7

And the Rabbis say: The term zonah applies only to a female convert, a freed maidservant, and one who engaged in licentious sexual intercourse. – Yevamot 61b

Imagine how annoyed a female convert might be to find out that halachically she is designated zonah, a word that is more commonly translated “prostitute!” My codes professor in rabbinical school told me to “get over it” but I remain stubbornly annoyed.

I take some comfort in the fact that there are honored women in our tradition with the zonah designation, including Tamar (Genesis 38) and Rahav of Jericho (Joshua 2.)

For more scholarly (and less annoyed) examinations of this week’s Torah portion, I recommend:

Tearing A Hole in Being by Rabbi Dr. Rachel Adler

Parashat Emor: the priest and the prostitute or how a women’s sexual history is mysteriously powerful in the ritual system by Rabbi Sylvia Rothschild

The Imperfection of Perfection by Rabbi Amy Schienerman

A Crack in Everything by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat

Is Time Ours or Is It God’s? Rabbi Elyse Goldstein

 

 

 

 

Shabbat Shalom! – Vayakhel / Pekudei

Image: A rainbow of colored pencils. Photo by Padrinan/pixabay.

This week we have a double portion, Vayakhel plus Pekudei. It will carry us from the beginning of Exodus 35 to the end of the book.

Vayakhel covers the making of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle and its sacred vessels. Pekudei addresses the setting up of the Mishkan. These are Torah portions loaded with detail; simply reading them without help, our eyes may glaze over.

One way to enliven the process is to read with a pen and paper. As each detail is laid out, do your best to draw what you are reading. This is help you visualize the material. Resist the temptation to look up pictures: read and draw for yourself. Don’t worry about making great art.

Then, only then, compare your images with the drawings of others. Those might be drawings you find in a book or online, or they might be drawings by your study partner. Don’t be distressed when your images are different from those of others. You are not the first to discover that the descriptions in Torah are incomplete. It is human nature to “fill in the blanks” with interpretation. You are not wrong to do so, but it is good to realize when you are doing it.

Here are some divrei Torah to illuminate these portions:

O Lord, Won’t You Buy Me a Mercedes Benz? by Rabbi Kari Hofmeister Tuling, PhD

What Women Do & Why Women are Rewarded by Rabbi Sylvia Rothschild

The Journey of Control & Powerlessness by Rabbi Amy Scheinerman

Shared Purpose Unifies by Rabbi Nina J Mizrahi

Future Questions of Personhood by Rabbi Esther Hugenholtz

Shabbat Shalom! – Ki Tisa

Image: Stylized image of a golden cow (Kaz/pixabay)

This week’s Torah portion is full of drama. God commands a tax of a half-shekel, based on the census. This will go for upkeep of the Tabernacle [Mishkan]. We meet a central character of the wilderness years, Betzalel, who will be the general contractor and chief artist for the Mishkan.

God gives two stone tablets to Moses, who carries them down Sinai, only to find that in his absence, the Israelites have panicked and build a calf-idol of gold. (There is a great midrash on this story about what happened when the men asked the women of Israel for their golden earrings.) The Golden Calf story ends in disaster, of course. Moses shatters the tablets and the people who messed around with idolatry get a terrible punishment. The aftermath of these events leaves Moses with rays of light coming from his head, rays that a later generation of Biblical scholars will mistranslate as “horns.”

Some excellent divrei Torah on this portion:

Courage, Convictions, and Leadership by Rabbi Dan Levin

Go Down, Moses! by Rabbi Andrea Steinberger

Half a Sheqel by Rabbi Jordan Parr

Inspiration by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat

A Call for Calf Control by Rabbi Stephen Fuchs

True Believers Inflame by Rabbi Nina Mizrahi

Theological Revisionism by Rabbi Amy Scheinerman

Magical Merciful Tour

Image: Sunlight streaming through clouds. (Unsplash/Pixabay)

Every High Holy Days, we recite the words from Parashat Ki Tisa:

Adonai, Adonai, God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth; keeping mercy unto the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and pardoning. – Exodus 34:6-7

Known as the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy,  our ancestors believed that by  repeating this passage, the congregation would convince God to indeed be merciful. (RH 17b). Such a “magical formula” is offensive to modern Jews. Surely we cannot manipulate God by reciting a charm!

Rabbi Isaiah Horowitz (17th c) argues in Shene Lukḥot haBerit that, rather than recite the Thirteen Attributes as they have come down to us, we should not be reciting, but acting upon the words:  “Ya’asu lifne b’seder hazeh”  “let them do before me in this order.” In other words, there is no magic formula. Our deeds bring God’s mercy into the world when we ourselves behave mercifully. 

 

Therefore it is up to us to strive daily to be “merciful and gracious, long-suffering, abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, pardoning.” This is a tall order indeed, but we are human beings created in the image of God, living in covenant with God. We can bring forgiveness into the world for others and for ourselves by our actions.

Shabbat Shalom! – Tetzaveh

Image: Rabbi Ruth Adar admires as Cantor Ilene Keys practices leyning Megillat Esther. Photo by Linda Burnett.

Parashat Tetzaveh (Exodus 27:20 – 30:10) begins with instructions for the oil and the great lamp [menorah] of the Tabernacle. After that, it is concerned  with the appointment of Aaron and his sons as Cohanim, priests of Israel, with their vestments and with instructions for their ordination. It concludes with instructions for the altar.

Moreover, this is Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat immediately before Purim. Purim itself begins at the end of this Shabbat, at sundown on Saturday, March 11.  Lots happening – and all of it is reflected in our divrei Torah this week:

What to Wear? by Rabbi David Ackerman

What Costumes Can Reveal by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat

Tetzaveh by Rabbi Seth Goldstein

Purim: A Lesson in Moderation by Rabbi Andy Gordon

Illumined by Love by Rabbi Nina Mizrahi

Clothes Make the Man (or Woman) by Rabbi Jordan Parr

Vashti: A heroine not just for Purim #nastywoman by Rabbi Sylvia Rothschild

Shabbat Shalom! – Terumah

Image: The Ark of the Covenant, Drawing by James Tissot, c. 1986-1902. Public Domain.

Parashat Terumah (Exodus 25:1 – 27:19)  begins the process of building the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary that will be a dwelling place for God in the midst of the Israelites. It begins, as all building projects begin, with fundraising. It includes plans, the selection of builders, and more plans. Terumah teaches us about building a holy place.

Here are some darshanim with thoughts on that subject:

Terumah: Over the Rainbow? by Anita Silvert

Some Kind of Blue? Tradition, Tekhelet, and the Rav by Rabbi Aryeh Klapper

The Shechinah Dwells Among Us but are We Driving Her Away? by Rabbi Sylvia Rothschild

Offerings by Rabbi Kari Hofmeister Tuling, PhD

Building Community by Rabbi Nina J. Mizrahi

Virtuous Reality by Rabbi Rafi Mollot

Bring What You Can, Be Who You Are by Rabbi Ruth Adar

 

 

Let Us Connect! – Parashat Terumah

Image:  Model of the Mishkan at Timna, Israel on October 15 2008. Photo by Rafael Ben Ari/ Shutterstock. Notice that there are no human beings.

I’m always a little sad when we reach this week’s Torah portion, Terumah. I know that there is still plenty of Torah to find in the words and between the letters, but we’re out of great stories for a while. The child in me that loves stories misses Genesis and the first part of Exodus.

I normally begin the week by reading the Torah portion, and this week I was struck by all the things in this Torah portion. All of a sudden, God is into interior decorating: we’re going to build the Mishkan [Tabernacle] and it’s going to have a golden lamp, and here’s how the lamp will look, and it’s going to have a table, and a this, and a that. Then God is busy planning Aaron’s ordination: he’ll wear this, he’ll do that. Plans, plans, plans! This year, more than most years, I am irritated. I want stories. I want people.

I want connection.

 

Human beings need connection. We are social beings, even those of us for whom being social is difficult because of circumstances or disability. I think this is what distresses me about Parashat Terumah – suddenly Torah is all furniture and fixtures, just God dictating to Moses what is wanted in the new digs, and how Aaron’s ordination should go. I feel bereft.

Then, at the very end, God tells Moses:

The LORD spoke to Moses: See, I have singled out by name Bezalel son of Uri son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah. I have endowed him with the Divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft; to make designs for work in gold, silver, and copper, to cut stones for setting and to carve wood—to work in every kind of craft.

Moreover, I have assigned to him Oholiab son of Ahisamach, of the tribe of Dan; and I have also granted skill to all who are skillful, that they may make everything that I have commanded you: the Tent of Meeting, the Ark for the Pact and the cover upon it, and all the furnishings of the Tent; the table and its utensils, the pure lampstand and all its fittings, and the altar of incense; the altar of burnt offering and all its utensils, and the laver and its stand; the service vestments, the sacral vestments of Aaron the priest and the vestments of his sons, for their service as priests; as well as the anointing oil and the aromatic incense for the sanctuary. Just as I have commanded you, they shall do. – Exodus 31:1-11
Suddenly, there is community again! Betzalel and his crew are going to be together, doing things, making things, empowered by “a divine spirit of skill, ability and knowledge in every kind of craft.” I imagine Betzalel with strong, calloused hands, he and his merry band of artisans, glowing with that divine spirit, the same ruach elohim that swept over the waters of creation:
בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית בָּרָ֣א אֱלֹהִ֑ים אֵ֥ת הַשָּׁמַ֖יִם וְאֵ֥ת הָאָֽרֶץ׃
וְהָאָ֗רֶץ הָיְתָ֥ה תֹ֙הוּ֙ וָבֹ֔הוּ וְחֹ֖שֶׁךְ עַל־פְּנֵ֣י תְה֑וֹם וְר֣וּחַ אֱלֹהִ֔ים מְרַחֶ֖פֶת עַל־פְּנֵ֥י הַמָּֽיִם׃
וַיֹּ֥אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֖ים יְהִ֣י א֑וֹר וַֽיְהִי־אֽוֹר׃
When God began to create heaven and earth—
the earth being unformed and void, with darkness over the surface of the deep and the Divine spirit sweeping over the water— God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. – Genesis 1:1-3

The spirit of God, ruach Elohim, is not in things. It is not in golden furniture. It is not in great buildings. It is not in computers, and not in smartphones. In the modern Jewish world, we locate it in the actions of human beings who reach out to other human beings to do work, to learn, to love, and to struggle.

Let all who are able step out from behind our computer screens, look up from our smartphones, let us reach out to others for human connection. Let ruach Elohim, the spirit of the Divine, sweep over the boundaries between us.

Let us connect with our spouses, with our children, with the guy who carries away the garbage, with the lady at the cash register, with the guy wearing a baseball cap with a team insignia. Let us make eye contact, let us introduce ourselves, let us touch hands, let us connect.

For it is in those moments that we are filled with ruach Elohim, in those moments when we are most fully human, when we connect.

Shabbat Shalom! – Mishpatim

Last week, in Parashat Yitro, Moses delivered the 10 Commandments from God to the people of Israel (Exodus 20). This week he continues to deliver commandments to us, hence the name  Parashat Mishpatim [“Laws”].

It is filled with rules and regulations for Jewish living, and finishes with descriptions and commandments for the three great “pilgrimage festivals” of Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot. It lends itself to a variety of divrei Torah, because each law in it is a gate to a little world of its own.

You may have wondered how I find the divre Torah that I post on these weekly offerings. Usually it’s pot luck – I notice nice ones during the week as I study the portion myself, and I list them. Sometimes I scramble them together at the last minute, searching the blogs of colleagues for divrei Torah on the portion.

This week I choose to highlight the work of my women colleagues. Women rabbis are no longer a novelty, but we have not yet reached full acceptance even in the Reform world, if you take our salaries as a measure. Some of these women are pulpit rabbis and some work in the Jewish institutional world. I share with you their brilliance in expounding on Parashat Mishpatim:

The Roots of the Amicus Brief by Rabbi Beth Kalisch

The Other Side of the Coin by Rabbi Esther Hugenholtz

Gutsy Listening by Rabbi Elka Abrahamson

Respecting Life, Do Not Add Insult to Injury by Rabbi Sylvia Rothschild

Covenant & Commitment: Who is Responsible for the Vulnerable Among Us? by Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell

Mishpatim – Laws by Rabbi Kari Hofmeister Tuling, PhD

Living the Details of Life by Rabbi Amy Scheinerman

Jacob and Esau: A Cautionary Tale

Image:The Meeting of Esau and Jacob, c. 1896-1902, by James Jacques Joseph Tissot (French, 1836-1902), gouache on board, 7 1/16 x 10 3/4 in. (18.1 x 27.4 cm), at the Jewish Museum, New York (Public Domain)

In the book of Genesis, Jacob and Esau were twin brothers who had great differences. Jacob wronged Esau more than once, manipulating their parents so that Esau lost his birthright and their father’s blessing. When they met again:

And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him; and they wept. – Genesis 33:4

This sounds good, doesn’t it? But one midrash tells us that actually, the word וַיִּשָּׁקֵהוּ, “and kissed him” was actually a euphemism. What really happened (again, according to midrash) was that Esau bit Jacob! The next verses say that Esau refused Jacob’s gifts, so it is in keeping with the negative understanding of the verse, and later on his descendants were some of the bitterest enemies of the descendants of Jacob: the Amalekites.

Jacob and Esau are a cautionary tale about the serious consequences when we allow bitterness to fester.

I had an immediate, strong gut response to a post circulating on Facebook recently. Perhaps you have seen it. It begins:

There are those who have said that we should “work together” with the president and the Republican majority because they won the election and Trump is “everyone’s president.” This is my response:

•I will not forget how badly he and so many others treated former President Barack Obama for 8 years…
•I will not “work together” to privatize Medicare, cut Social Security and Medicaid.
•I will not “work together” to build a wall.
•I will not “work together” to persecute Muslims.
•I will not “work together” to shut out refugees from other countries.
•I will not “work together” to lower taxes on the 1% and increase taxes on the middle class and poor… [continues with more of the same]

I agreed with it so strongly that I copied it, signed it, and pasted it onto my own wall. There are things I’m simply not willing to do or to passively allow. The current administration has engaged in many of those things and declared its intention to engage in others, and I will not stand by and let them happen.

But then, someone I love and respect very much left a message on my wall in reply:

I did not vote for Obama but I prayed for his success every day. Now I pray for the current president and for those who are unable to deal with their anger. I felt Clinton had been a danger to our country and lied about it, so I could not vote for her. We deplorables did what we thought was best.

My reply to her:

As far as I’m concerned, you are no “deplorable.” I know you’d never support an act of cruelty, that there isn’t a nihilist bone in your body. While we disagree on the right way to get there, I like to think we want the same things for America: peace, safety, fairness for all.

I pray for the country. I pray for Mr Trump, who looks to me like he’s in a lot of pain.

 

I decided that if I was going to say what I would not “work together” on, I should also be clear what goals I could pursue with Republican friends.  Here’s what I was able to come up with after a little thought:

Things I would be glad to “work together” on with the current administration or any other:

• Investment in the infrastructure of this country, with the construction and other jobs that would bring.
• Training for American citizens for 21st century jobs. Heck, even if everything is going to run on robots, someone has to maintain the robots!
• A health care system that would include the maximum number of Americans, not just the fortunate.
• Figure out how we as a people are going to pay the debt we owe to our Veterans of all races, including those with physical and mental disabilities.
• Figure out a new way to meet the challenge of rampant drug and alcohol addiction. The “War on Drugs” is an utter waste. It’s been going on most of my life and the situation is now worse than when Nixon declared it. It’s time for a reset.
• Search out ways to lower the number of deaths by gunshot without engaging the merry-go-round of 2nd Amendment disagreements. What CAN we agree upon? Why not start there?
• A national movement to end name-calling and insults in public discourse. They do not add anything to our public life. Call our elected officials by their titles, not by disrespectful nicknames. Call out policies, not personalities.

Those are the things I can think of off the top of my head. Some part of each of them has been mentioned by at least one Republican elected official or voter in my acquaintance.

There are things that I will #resist with all my heart and soul: racism, baseless hatred, mistreatment of people of every age, race, religion, orientation, gender, and nationality. But I refuse to believe that I can’t work with half the country on at least some of the things I’ve listed above.

I absolutely agree that Torah, even basic morality, demand that we resist certain things (e.g. racism, including institutional racism) no matter what. At the same time, I don’t want to get so caught up in opposition to anything and everything that movement of any kind is impossible. I do not want my anger to cut me off from possibilities for good.

I don’t want to be Esau.

 

 

Shabbat Shalom! – Beshalach

Image: An arrow in the sand: Forward! Photo by MIH83/Pixabay.

It’s Shabbat Shirah – the Shabbat when we read the triumphant Song of the Sea – and Tu B’Shevat, the New Year of the Trees. The confluence of these two is subtle and powerful.

Tu B’Shevat marks the dead of winter. It began as an accounting device, the day to account for the age and produce of the trees, the beginning of a new fiscal year of their accounting. The sages chose this day because the trees look dead to the unschooled eye: no leaves, no blooms, no fruit, just a bare trunk and limbs. It’s the ideal time to sum up the books and start a new year.

Because a new season is on its way: deep within those bare sticks runs the living sap. The trees only appear to be dead. Crack a twig and you can see it. Leaves and fruit are far away, but they will come. To the educated eye, the tree is only dormant; life teems within.

The Torah portion Beshalach tells us of a crisis: the Israelites escape Egypt only to be trapped at water’s edge by Pharaoh and his army. All appears to be lost. Moses nervously assures the people that the Holy One will preserve them, to which the Holy One roars in reply, “Vayisa’oo – get moving!” The famous miracle comes only after the 600,000 move their feet and plunge ahead into the surf without a guarantee.

Both Tu B’shevat and Shabbat Shira mark a moment of apparent death. They describe a moment when all seems to be lost. The farmer and his Israelite ancestor must stir themselves – must answer the call “Vayisa’oo – get moving!” – in steadfast hope of something better to come. Flowers. Fruit. Freedom.

All is not lost.

 

Our darshanim this week:

Tree Bathing! – Rabbi Nina Mizrahi

Into the Wilderness – Rabbi David Ackerman

What’s Rising in You? – Rabbi Rachel Barenblat

Turn Around Plan – Rabbi Jordan Parr

Turning – Rabbi Menachem Creditor [VIDEO]

We Are All in the Same Boat – Rabbi Stephen Fuchs

Beating Karma to the Punch – Rabbi Marc Katz