Miketz, Shabbat Chanukah 5769

This week's Parsha Miketz is an engaging story filled with drama that inspired Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice to write the musical “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat” and the film company Dreamworks to produce the animated film “Joseph”. In this Parasha, we watch Joseph’s rags to riches story unfold. We are spellbound by Joseph’s understanding of dreams and we are on the edge of our seats as Joseph discovers his childhood family that had once abandoned him. Much has been written, discussed and dramatized about this Parsha.

However, I am interested in the leadership qualities of both Pharaoh and Joseph. Parashat Miketz begins with the Egyptian Pharaoh troubled by two dreams. Although the details of the dreams themselves are interesting, (seven weak-fleshed cows eating seven healthy ones and seven heads of poorly growing grain devouring seven healthy ones), it’s Pharaoh response to the dream that illuminates his character. Parashat Miketz suggests that Pharaoh only had these dreams once and yet he was very troubled. Pharaoh could have ignored the dreams and remained the all powerful, all-knowing leader that was expected of him. However, Pharaoh admitted to everyone that he did not understand his dreams and he wanted an explanation. He obviously thought the dreams were significant. When none of his top advisers could help him, he was very receptive to his tale about Joseph and his dream interpretation skills. Again the Pharaoh could have disregarded the Butler’s story as a “tall tale” but he was open-minded and asked that the prisoner Joseph be brought before him. When Joseph told Pharaoh that Hashem would interpret the dreams, Pharaoh believed him (unlike the Pharaoh Moses meets) and acted on the interpretation of looming famine in his country by assigning Joseph to the task of overseeing the storage of food during the seven years of abundance. Once again Pharaoh is demonstrating his skills at listening, problem solving and delegating tasks. Clearly Hashem had some insight that Pharaoh would be the right individual for his message.

Joseph also demonstrates good leadership skills in his position of vizier. He leads the Egyptians in a plan to store a portion of the abundant grain crops to avert famine and subsequently saves many lives.

Leadership is also key component of our Chanukah celebration because without the strength and guidance of Judah Maccabee, the band of Jewish rebels would not have prevailed against Antiochus’ powerful army. Leaders can be found in individuals given power like Pharaoh or in individuals that rise in a particular situation like Judah Maccabee but each have a belief system and demonstrate the qualities of open-mindedness, determination, tenacity and persuasiveness to accomplish their goals.

Jodi Hecht

Vayeshev 5769

Angelology – Part III

A man found [Joseph], and behold! -- he was blundering in the field; the man asked him, saying, “What do you seek?” (Beresheit 37:15)

Yonaton ben Uziel
Gavriel, in the form of a man, found Joseph…

Oznaim LaTorah
Why was Gavriel sent from Heaven to show Joseph the way to his brothers? After all, his brothers were planning to kill Joseph, or at best, to sell him into slavery! Could it be that God sent the angel in order to relieve Jacob’s burden of guilt, inasmuch as he knew his sons hated and were jealous of Joseph?
Rather, the angel came to show Joseph the way to Egypt, to teach us that the entire episode comes from Hashem. The time had come for Jacob and his sons to descend to Egypt. The matter was hidden from Jacob’s wisdom and intellect, and he sent the son of his old age, whom he loved as much as life itself, to his brothers, who were planning to kill him. Therefore the Holy One, Blessed be He, sent an angel to protect Joseph on the way to Egypt.

Yonaton ben Uziel and Oznaim LaTorah address a problem with our text: who is this unnamed man and what is he doing in the field? The tradition teaches that Torah does not waste words. Every seemingly trivial detail must convey meaning. So it must be with a seemingly chance encounter between Joseph and an unnamed man.

The traditional interpretation holds that the man is an angel. The text provides several clues as to his identity: first, the man finds Joseph, rather than the other way around, as though the man had been looking for Joseph; second, the Torah states ‘the man asked [Joseph], saying… (Va’y’shalayhu ha-ish laymor).’ In Sefer Beresheit, the combination of verbs derived from the roots shin-alef-lamed + alef-mem-resh usually refers to communication with a malakh, human or Divine (e.g. 24:47, 32:18, 32:30). Finally there is the curious exchange between Joseph and the man:

And [Joseph] said, “My brothers do I seek; tell me, please, where they are pasturing.” The man said: “They have journeyed on from here, for I heard them saying, ‘Let us go to Dothan.’” (37:16-17)

The man’s answer begins with a seemingly superfluous comment: ‘they have journeyed on from here.’ This is obvious! Rather, the man is conveying a secret to Joseph that only a Divine being could know: that they had ‘moved on from brotherhood with Joseph [for] they sought a legal basis to kill him’ (Rashi to 37:17.) Furthermore, the man knows exactly where the brothers are, even recounting a supposedly overheard conversation, without first asking Joseph for any further information as to the boys’ identity!

Oznaim LaTorah explains why Hashem sent an angel to Joseph. If He hadn’t done so, the narrative would have ground to a screeching halt right here in Chapter 37 of Beresheit. There would be no descent into Egypt, no enslavement, no redemption, and no Sinai! Instead, the Torah teaches that Hashem guides Israel to Sinai and beyond.

One more phrase in our text deserves comment. It is the angel’s wonderfully-phrased question to Joseph ‘what do you seek?’ (ma t’vakesh:) If we accept that the angel already knows that Joseph is seeking his brothers, why doesn’t he ask ‘whom do you seek?’ Perhaps the angel is actually asking Joseph a philosophical question. Perhaps he is asking the boy Joseph to tell us what he has planned for his life. Will he carry on lording it over his brothers like a spoiled child, or will he grow up and respect them as equals like a grown man ought to? Though the question is surely rhetorical, it must have sounded harsh to Joseph’s ears. Perhaps this is why the tradition identifies this angel as Gavriel, the angel of severity.

Vayishlach 5769

THE LAST KISS

A kiss is so commonplace that we take it for granted - a kiss hello or goodbye, or perhaps as a sign of affection. It is something we do every day. So, it is somewhat surprising that kissing is mentioned a mere 11 times in Torah. Eight of those times it involves Jacob and does not stem from affection or sincerity.

The first instance occurs while Jacob is in the process of deceiving his father. Isaac asks that Jacob lean over and kiss him so that he may smell the scent of his son to identify him. Jacob leans over to kiss Isaac in the hopes that Isaac will believe that Jacob is really Esau. The kiss is not an expression of love, but a gesture of deception. (Gen. 27:26-27.)

The next kiss is an impulsive act of a self-centered youth when Jacob first spies Rachel and kisses her (Gen. 29:11.) When Rachel brings Jacob home to her father Lavan, Lavan kisses Jacob (Gen. 29:13.) As the story develops, we know that there is no love lost between Jacob and Lavan. Their relationship is built on deception and lies.

At the end of 20 years of service to Lavan, Jacob is fleeing with his wives, his children and his flocks. Lavan pursues him and upon not finding the household idols that were stolen, he uses the excuse that he did not have the opportunity to kiss his daughters and grandsons goodbye (Gen. 31:28.) We don’t associate warmth or demonstrative emotion with Lavan, so when he kisses the family goodbye, we are not moved (Gen. 32:1.)

We arrive at the kiss in our parashah, Vayishlach. Jacob is sleep deprived. He has just wrestled with an angel. He has been injured. He is afraid of the coming reunion with Esau. Esau, on the other hand, has had 20 years to heal, to forgive, to grow and to prosper. He approaches the reunion with great enthusiasm. Esau runs to greet Jacob, embracing him, falling on his neck and kissing him (Gen. 33:4.) Here is the one sincere kiss offered to Jacob and Jacob does not know how to accept it. Jacob is cowering and addresses Esau in an ingratiating manner referring to himself as “your servant” and to Esau as “my lord.” When Esau urges Jacob to travel home with him, Jacob declines, saying that he will follow shortly thereafter. Instead of following, Jacob heads in the opposite direction.

It takes Jacob a long time before he can give or receive a kiss with emotional engagement and sincerity. It only happens after Joseph reveals his identity to his brothers, forgives them and kisses them (Gen. 45:15.) As Jacob’s life is coming to an end, he asks Joseph to bring his sons so that Jacob can bless them. Jacob’s last kiss is for his grandsons, Ephraim and Menashe, before he offers his last will and testament to his sons (Gen. 48:10.) As Jacob concludes this testament, he draws his last breath and is gathered to his people.

Joseph weeps over his father and lovingly places one final kiss on his lips (Gen. 50:1.)

Rabbi Nechama Goldberg

Vayeitze 5769

Angelology – Part II

And (Jacob) dreamed, and behold! A ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold angels of God ascending and descending on it (Beresheit 28:12).

Rashi: Ascending and descending: They ascend at first and others descend. Angels who accompany him in the land (of Israel) don’t go outside the land, and ascend to heaven. And angels descend outside the land to accompany him.

Rashbam: Ascending and descending: Understand it according to the plain sense. There is no need to fuss over who ascended or descended first, inasmuch as it is customary to mention ascent before descent.

Keter Jonathan: The two angels who had departed from the destruction of Sodom wandered from there to discover the secrets of the Master of the Universe. They wandered until Jacob left his father’s house. They accompanied him to Beit-El, and then ascended to Heaven. There they reported that they had seen Jacob the Chassid, and described him as the very image of the Throne of Glory. Thereupon God’s remaining holy angels desired to descend and observe him as well.

These commentaries deal with a difficulty in the text: If angels are heavenly beings, why does the Torah state that Jacob dreams of angels first ascending to heaven, and then descending to earth? All three commentators seek to explain how this may be so.

Rashi, based on Beresheit Rabbah 68:12, argues that angels change shifts at the border of Israel. There the Israeli angels ascend to heaven and the Canaanite angels descend take their place.

Rashbam scolds his grandfather Rashi for quibbling about word order. Of course angels start in heaven and return there from earth! The Torah is merely observing the derekh eretz (accepted practice) of mentioning ascent before descent. You don’t say “there and here”, or “that and this”, do you?

Keter Jonathan brings a midrash about two of the three angels who appeared to Abraham in Parashat Vayera (recall the first angel disappears after informing Sarah that she will have a baby.) It must be these two who climb the ladder in Jacob’s dream.

But what if the Torah said exactly what it meant? Jacob may have dreamed of heavenly angels walking on the earth, climbing to heaven via a ladder, and others climbing down afterwards! The Torah may be teaching that angels walked among the patriarchs, guiding them along the way to fulfilling the Divine plan.

And what about today: Do angels walk among us? Modern teachings, Jewish and non-Jewish, answer in the affirmative. Chassidic masters wrote of angels carrying our prayers up to heaven and preparing them to be presented before God. Filmmaker Wim Wenders imagined angels reading over our shoulders in libraries.

On the chance that the Chassidic masters were right, let’s pray for the wisdom to know an angel when we see one.

Toldot 5769

“And the children struggled together within her…” (Beresheit 25:22)

The twins Jacob and Esau are not merely struggling together. The verb the Torah uses here, va’yitrotzatzu, suggests they are struggling against one another. The root of the verb is resh-tzade, meaning “run”. The tzade is repeated, rendering the root resh-tzade-tzade. In ancient Hebrew, duplication of the second letter of a two-letter root suggests intensification. In this case, the verb is not only intensified, it is transformed from the intransitive “run” to the transitive “trample, crush, as underfoot.” The verb is presented in the hitpalel, or reflexive, form. This suggests that whatever the twins were doing, they were doing it to each other. A more literal translation of the verse gives “And the children crushed each other within her…”

Elsewhere in Tanakh, resh-tzade-tzade also suggests crushing, either real or metaphoric.

“…[A]nd you will be only cheated and downtrodden (ratzootz) all the days.” (Devarim 28:33)

“They broke and crushed (rotz’tzu) the children of Israel…” (Shoftim 10:8)

“You have relied on the support of this splintered (ratzootz) cane…” (M’lachim II 18:21)

“You crushed (ritzatzta) the head of Leviathan…” (Tehillim 74:14)

The Torah’s choice of a reflexive verb based on resh-tzade-tzade (crush) suggests that Jacob and Esau not only trampled each other with their feet inside of Rebecca, but that in so doing they also inflicted injuries on each other. In fact, their original injuries prefigure the injuries they will inflict on one another in life. Jacob humiliates Esau through the purchase of the latter’s birthright for a mess of pottage (25: 29-34.) Esau, via an angel, cripples Jacob during the wrestling match at the Wadi Jabbok (32:25-30.)

Jacob’s and Esau’s injuries never heal, and yet the two become brothers again. At the beginning of Chapter 33 they meet after years apart and weep in each other’s arms. At the end of Chapter 35, Jacob and Esau bury their father Isaac together.

The Jacob-Esau narratives teach that Teshuvah (return, or in this case reconciliation) is attainable even after a lifetime of epic fighting, injuring, and separation. How much more so is Teshuvah available to us after the relatively minor injuries we inflict on one another!

Chaya Sarah 5769

Our conception of romantic love leading to marriage has its roots in the modern era. Beginning at the end of the eighteenth century, people throughout the western world sought to free themselves from the ties of family, religion and institutions of society that they believed stifled individuality and freedom of choice. People were innately good, taught Jean Jacques Rousseau, and if left alone would make the right choices. We are now reaching the last stage of this era, and it is quite apparent that human relationships are far more complicated than the thinkers of the enlightenment and their followers imagined. Left to their own devices, people in a very materialistic society enter into relationships for the most superficial reasons based on deeply flawed judgment. The couplings and de-couplings of Hollywood personalities and people in public life have now penetrated every level of our society. Marriage in our time has been compared to someone approaching a ticket agent for an overseas flight. As the individual receives the tickets he or she inquires: "Are the flights safe?" To which the agent replies: "Every now and then a plane arrives safely at its destination."

Jewish tradition, going back to our Torah portion, considered lineage and heritage critical in determining marriage relationships. Seeking a wife for Isaac, Abraham instructs his servant Eliezer to go back to Abraham's kinfolk in "the land of my birth." Eliezer, profoundly aware of Abraham's spiritual values based on hesed, loving-kindness, prays to God for a sign of this value in the girls who have come to draw water from the well where he has stopped. Rebecca, who comes from a family related to Abraham's clan, fulfills the servant's criteria of a woman who has heart. It is not that beauty in a woman is discounted. Rebecca, we are told, "was very beautiful." But her beauty was internal as well as external.

The circumstances under which Isaac and Rebecca meet are also instructive. Isaac went out to walk in the field toward evening. As Rashi points out, this was a walking meditation and prayer. Two people, with the proper lineage and heritage, with heart and a spiritual outlook on life, meet. The union had all the ingredients of blessing, and it was blessed. The Torah tells us: "Isaac brought her (Rebecca) into his mother Sarah's tent." Rashi, questioning every superfluous word of Scripture, notes that it would have been enough to say "mother's tent," why "mother Sarah's tent?" Because, says Rashi quoting the Midrash, Rebecca became like Isaac's mother Sarah. Psychologists point out that men unconsciously often choose wives who in one way or another resemble their mother. While Sarah was living, a light burned in the tent from one Sabbath to the next; there was always a blessing in the dough (i.e., the bread and the meals were delicious) and a cloud, representing the divine spirit, was always hanging over the tent. When Sarah died all these disappeared, but when Rebecca came they reappeared.

Rabbi Joseph Schultz

Vayeira 5769

Angelology – Part I

The Hebrew word for angel, malach, is derived from the root lamed-aleph-chaf, meaning “send.” The two derivatives of this root in ancient Hebrew are malach (angel) and malachah (creative work.) In Tanakh, when God wants to transmit an idea to someone, He sends a malach. When He wants to transmit an idea into concrete form, He “sends” His idea into three-dimensions as malachah (Beresheit 2:2)

Angels in Tanakh obey the following rules:

1. An angel’s message changes the course of history.
2. An angel’s message compels Biblical characters to do things they wouldn’t otherwise do.
3. An angel delivers one message, and then disappears.

In parashat Vayeira, three angels appear together before Abraham (18:2), deliver their messages, and disappear one by one, but not before changing the course of the narrative.

The first angel appears to tell Abraham and Sarah that they will produce a child (18:10). Sarah clearly didn’t know this would happen, otherwise, why would she laugh at the suggestion (18:12)? This angel’s mission was to get the very old Abraham and Sarah to engage in marital relations, so that having a baby would be possible. If there were no baby Isaac, the Torah would grind to a screeching halt at the end of Chapter 20. After delivering this message, angel #1 disappears. At the beginning of Chapter 19, only two angels come to Sodom in the evening (19:1)

The second angel destroys Sodom and Gomorrah. This angel doesn’t deliver a message to anyone in particular. However, one could consider the destruction of the cities of the plain as a message to the survivors who witness the event, including Lot. The ‘message’ is a demonstration to Israel and the world that God will not tolerate total immorality and depravity.

The destruction occurs somewhere in the middle of Chapter 19, verse 18:

And Lot said unto them (aleihem, plural), Oh not so, my Lord (adonai, singular)

Lot prepares to speak to two angels, but one disappears before Lot can form the words. The change from plural to singular in mid-verse suggests that the destroying angel has done his deed and disappeared.

The remaining angel rescues Lot. Despite a stern warning (19:15), Lot is reluctant to leave Sodom (19:16). He must be told to leave the city lest he remain there and die. But Lot cannot die, because he must become the progenitor of the Moabites and the Ammonites (20:37-38.) Ruth the Moabite will become the progenetrix of the Davidic line (Megillat Ruth). If Lot does not escape, there will be no King David, and no messianic legacy. Verses 21-22 of Chapter 19 give the angel’s last words to Lot. After this we hear no more from him because he has disappeared.

The Torah claims that God intercedes in human affairs, frequently by means of angels. Angels usually appear in human form, superficially indistinguishable from ordinary people. If the Torah does state explicitly that a messenger is a malach, how does one identify him as such? By means of his modus operandi: If the messenger adheres to our set of rules, he is probably a malach hashem, a messenger of God.

Question for further study (with apologies to Nechama Leibowitz):

Two more angels appear in parashat Vayeira. Where do they appear? Do they obey the rules set out above? If so, how so? If not, why not? Post your answers in the comment section

Lech Lecha 5769

Lech Lecha covers a wide range of events and emotions - from extreme seriousness - to go forth into the unknown - to extreme happiness- being told that one will have a child; and from war to domestic concerns - and from these events we learn the character of Avraham.

First is the complete trust in God which allows him to pack up his family and possesions at the age of 75 and venture into unknown territory.  A very difficult and courageous act - but Avraham had actually been a wanderer from his childhood - he had always strayed away from the thinking of his time, which  was idol worshipping, and had tried to lead people to the understanding that there is only one God.  The opening sentence of Lech Lecha tells him to go into himself - to become himself completely - by leaving his land, his relations, and the house of his father, and to go to the land where he will truly fulfill himself.  It is no wonder that this difficult task is followed by sentences which contain the word "blessing" 5 times.  A way of reassuring him on his journey.

Then we see Avraham in his capacity as head of his family, taking on the responsibility of caring for his nephew, who is fatherless.  He does this even though has a very dfferent philosophy of life.

Very worldly.  When there is a famine and Avraham and his entourage travel to Egypt, we see a human being who knows the real dangers which exist there - the corruption and immorality - and in order to save his life, puts the honor of Sarah in danger.  Human frailty is also part of his picture.

Very respectful.  When he returns from with great wealth he stays at the same place he had stayed earlier when he did not have much means, so as not to make the owner feel insulted. 

Extremely focused.  Although he wants to be with him, when he sees that does not share his values, he respectfully requests that they part ways.  He knows the work that he must do and will not stray from it.

Much travel is undertaken by Avraham.  He is told by God several times to walk across the land,and to get to know it, and thus to make it his own.  This knowledge comes in very handy when he sets out to rescue from the kings who have captured him. He is very knowledgeable about war tactics.  In order to rescue his nephew, he gathers his people (318 souls) and travels to the north - to Dan and Damascus - and divides them into smaller groups and makes a surprise attack in the night, and is successful.

He has the appropriate fear that all true warriors have - that war may sometimes be necessary but is horrible, and after his combat with the kings, Avraham is afraid - perhaps he killed good persons; even if not good, it is terrible to kill at all - perhaps they will seek revenge; or perhaps with this victory he has used up all his rewards - so God tells him: fear not, I will be your shield, and your rewards will be great(15:1), and weds Hagar only at the insistence of Sarah. And although his faith in God is strong - he is still able to chuckle when God tells him that he will have a son - him being 100 and Sarah 90!

These are only a bit of the portrait.  It's for you to read this parsha and the next one closely to complete the portrait!

Hopefully some of the wonderful qualities will be present in our new leaders.

Francine Aron

Noach 5769

There is a Simpsons episode in which Bart is playing with a pop up book of Bible stories for children. He's reached the story of the flood and as he pulls the tab of the book causing a wave of water to hit the ark, Bart yells out "...Oh, Noah, Noah! Save us! Save us!" and in Noah's voice Bart laughs and says "NO!"

As humorous as this vignette is, I think that it aptly illustrates traditional Jewish ambivalence about Noach. At the close of last week's parasha, HaShem was ready to destroy humanity as well as all of the animals due to man's dedication to evil except that Noach "found favor in G-d's eye".

Rashi, the prolific French Medievel commentator, notes that our sages disagreed as to Noach's merit. Some felt that it was only in comparison to his debased generation that Noach was of note. Others thought that had he lived in a more worthy era that Noach would have been even more righteous. Rashi also draws a distinction between Noach described as walking with G-d, whereas Avraham Avinu walked before G-d.

Perhaps the most distinctive difference between Avraham and Noach is the latter's lack of concern for the community. There isn't the slightest hint in the text of Noach trying to help anyone else. Rashi does note that in Midrash Hane'elam, Zohar Chadash 28a, the text says that rain came before the flood, the rain being one last opportunity for teshuva for humanity. I would say that this midrash is another expression of our tradition's discomfort with Noach's lack of effort at helping anyone outside of his own family.

If Noach represents complete lack of concern for the community - or at least turning one's back to community and isolating oneself from it, the parasha also presents the reduction to absurdity in the other direction: the Towel of Babel. In this story the community is united in an almost ridiculous attempt at building a tower to the heavens (a carbon monofilament of buckyballs is still some time away). Instead of using their unity for good, humankind forms a community in apparent rebellion against G-d. All of this thematically lays the groundwork for the end of this week's parasha: the introduction of Avram, the person who will recognize the oneness of G-d and build a community around this recognition. Our tradition is based on the formation of community that acts in the purpose of doing good. This represents a synthesis of righteousness (like Noach) coupled with the power of a community in action (as in the Tower of Babel).

This week we have an excellent opportunity to engage in community building. The Ashrei project's action week is One aspect of this week's activities is something that is particularly dear to me: KI's daily minyan. Our community comes together in the Rabb chapel for minyan (Sundays at 8 AM in the chapel and 7 PM at 100 Centre Street.) When you come to minyan you have an opportunity to connect with the community, engage in Jewish learning, comfort a mourner by your very presence, and daven in our emotionally warm chapel.

Adam Solomon

Beresheit 5769

Divine Speech

Beresheit

 

Va’yomer Elokim y’he ohr va’y’he ohr (1:3)

And God said: Let there be light! And there was light

 

Speech is problematic.  We use speech to telegraph ideas from our minds into the minds of others. We have no means apart from material speech to transfer immaterial ideas. The problem with material speech is that it often corresponds poorly (or not at all) to immaterial ideas that we mean them to convey. This holds for all speech, including Divine speech. The solitary exception to this rule is God’s first speech that created light.

Y’he ohr materializes immediately as y’he ohr, separated only by a conjunctive vav.  Identical words render both Divine utterance and the resulting creation. We might infer from this that created light corresponded precisely to God’s idea of light.

From this point on, Divine speech never again produces identical creations. For example, here are God’s next three creative speeches:

1.                           vv. 6-7, God says “Y’he rakia (let there be a firmament)…  Va’ya’as Elokim et ha’rakia (and God made the firmament)”

2.                           v. 9, God says “v’tay-reh ha-yabashah (let the dry land appear)… va’y’he chain (and it was so)”

3.                           vv. 11-12, God says “tadshey ha-aretz desheh (let the earth sprout sprouts)… v’totzay ha-aretz desheh (and the earth brought forth sprouts)”

There is no more identity between speech and creation. In fact much of subsequent creation occurs by means of God’s making distinctions between things (havdalah) rather than by de novo creation (bara). By the sixth “day”, God appears to recognize that His words give rise to something other than His ideas for creation. With His final creative utterance, God creates Adam betzalmaynu kidmootaynu (…Adam, in our image, after our likeness). In similar fashion, everything we create, including our children, come out differently than we imagine, often in surprising ways.

Why didn’t creation correspond more precisely to Divine imagination? The answer must be located in language. God brought everything into being with His word (Baruch she’amar v’hayah ha’olam, from the shacharit liturgy). Words cannot produce identity with ideas. Therefore creation differs from God’s conception. As noted above, the creation of light is the exception to the rule. Light came into being identical to the words used to conceptualize it.

What was the first creation, light? According to Samson Rafael Hirsch, aleph-vav-resh (light) is related to the word ayin-vav-resh. This root means “to be awake, to become or to be receptive to external impressions (hence it also means ‘skin’, the organ of feeling)”. Light is an “awakening element that awakens all forces to development”.

God’s first speech created the process that awakens and illuminates the material universe. Awareness/light is a pure, unadulterated product of a Divine idea.  It was given to us in a form exactly as conceived by the mind of God. As no subsequent creation achieved as pure a translation from idea into speech, we are required to use our own powers of reason to study and understand everything else God created.

Jonah's Rage 5769

Having been expelled from the belly of the fish, Jonah answers Hashem’s second call and delivers his word to Nineveh: “Forty days more and Nineveh is overturned!) The entire city immediately repents with fasting, sackcloth and ashes.  Hashem sees and relents from punishment. And this is how Jonah responds:

 

Va’ yay-rah el Yona ra-ah gedolah va’yichar lo (Yonah 4:1)

 

And it seemed to Jonah most unseemly, and he was enraged.

 

We might have expected Jonah to sing praise as he does at the end of chapter 2: “…that which I vowed I will fulfill for Hashem’s salvation (2:10).” But here there is only recrimination. Verse 4:1 gives us two different expressions of unhappiness.

 

In the first, both noun and verb, va’yay-rah and ra-ah, derive from the root  resh-ayin-ayin, meaning “be evil, bad” (BDB).  The phrase suggests that Jonah is greatly displeased about something.  The second, va’yichar, derives from the root chet-resh-hay, meaning “burn, be kindled, of anger.” Jonah burns with rage.

 

It makes no sense to suggest that Jonah is both greatly displeased and enraged about the same thing. More likely, he is displeased about one thing and enraged at something else.

 

A clue to the source of Jonah’s displeasure might be found in Nechemia 2:10, the only other place in Tanach where the expression va’yay-rah ra-ah gedolah appears. There, the expression describes the opinion of Israel’s enemies toward Israel and one of her prophets. Perhaps in Sefer Yonah, the same expression describes the prophet Jonah’s opinion of Israel’s enemy, Nineveh. Jonah may be displeased at the unfavorable comparison of Israel to Nineveh. Israel sins, seldom repents, and often is punished. Nineveh sins, repents, and is forgiven.

 

What about va’yichar lo, Jonah’s rage? It is useful to begin with Jonah’s own explanation:

 

And he prayed to Hashem, saying please Hashem, was this not my declaration when I was yet on my soil? This is why I hurried to flee to Tarshish: because I know that You are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and full of loving kindness and relent from harm (4:2).

 

What does Jonah mean by “when I was yet on my soil”? Elsewhere in Tanach, we find one mention of Jonah in Israel (M’lachim II 14:24-25)

 

[King Jeroboam ben Johash] did what was evil in the eyes of Hashem: he did not turn away from all the sins of Jeroboam ben Nebat that he caused Israel to sin. He restored the boundary of Israel… like the word of Hashem, god of Israel, which He had spoken by the hand of His servant Jonah ben Amittai the prophet…

 

We don’t hear the nature of Jonah’s earlier prophecy. We know only that Israel sinned and yet her boundary was graciously restored. It appears that Jonah prophesied to a sinful Israel, but Hashem relented from harming her. Jonah’s prophesy, whatever it was, did not come true.

 

When Hashem calls Jonah to prophesy to Nineveh (1:1), he runs in the opposite direction. Jonah fears a repetition of his first prophetic experience, which would provoke the nations to call him a false prophet (Rashi).

 

What explains Jonah’s rage at Nineveh (4:1)? When Hashem compels Jonah to deliver a prophesy that he knows will not come true, Jonah feels as though he is being picked up and tossed overboard all over again. It is the repetition of this trauma (and perhaps the earlier trauma alluded to in M’lachim) that triggers Jonah’s rage. After the sheltering kikayon is consumed by the worm, Jonah, consumed by his own rage, prays for death.

 

Sefer Yonah is famous as an object lesson in Teshuvah and Divine mercy. But for me it stands as the first and truest portrait of human rage from ancient antiquity until Freud.

Ki Tavo 5768

Parshat Ki Tavoh teaches us some practical principles of life and gives us much food for thought. 

 

First, there is the principle of gratitude.  We are to bring first fruits of the land of Israel to God because it is God who gave us this land as an inheritance and as a place to live.  And it is required that we describe what we are doing and why we are doing it.  This too is extremely important: we must be fully aware of our actions and of the consequences of our actions.

As an aside, and in tune with agriculture, the beautiful description of Eretz Yisroel as a land of milk and honey is repeated 3 times (26: 9,15; 27:3.)

 

Another principle of life:  Determine the rules of the place in which you find yourself.  The rules of living in Eretz Yisroel are the laws of the Torah.  Therefore we are commanded to write the laws very legibly. The commentators say “legibly” means “in many languages, so that everyone can understand.”

 

Next there is another important rule of life:  A Declaration.

We have seen this already when we have to declare why we are bringing the first fruits.  Now we are told that when we enter Eretz Yisroel we are declared a nation. (27:9 this day you have become a nation)  We can learn from this that we should announce and declare important events in our life; that we should consider our lives worthy of announcing and declaring and rejoicing.

 

We then have the separate enumeration of the curses which will result if we do the wrong thing.  Although the curses are enumerated, they were preceded by a blessing, which was the opposite of the curse.  And each item had to receive Amen from the entire nation, thus making sure that the item had been heard.  It is interesting that the Torah wants the Leviim to speak loudly (you would think public speakers would know this, but as usual, the Torah assumes nothing!) The speaker’s duty, as we were told earlier (27:8), is to write the Torah clearly.  Thus we not only get laws from the Torah – we also get job descriptions – all quite helpful in our everyday lives.

 

Next we have the blessings which will come to us if we obey the laws – one of the nicest being:  Blessed are you when you come, and blessed are you when you leave.  One explanation is that just as you entered the world without blemish, so it will be a blessing if you can leave the earth unblemished (Rabbi Yohanan in Talmud Bava Metzia).  But there is another very lovely explanation by Astruc in Midresheth Torah: that this shows God’s mercy, that we are blessed when we enter the land, and we are also blessed when we are forced to leave the land.  God will not forsake us even in exile (Leviticus 26:44 “…even though Israel may forsake me; yet when Israel will be in exile I will not forsake them, because I am their God”).

 

And finally– “the heart to know”.  Now, only as we enter Eretz Yisroel do we attain “the heart to know” all that has been given to us by God.  It’s interesting to note that the same words “on this day” is used in sentence 9 of Chapter 27 when Moses tells the people “on this day you have become a nation” and in sentence 3 of  Chapter 29 “on this day” (“God has given you a heart to know, and eyes to see, and ears to hear”), from which we might learn that only when we enter the land of Israel and become a nation, can we  really begin to understand the unbelievable marvels that God has done for us.  Also very beautiful is the idea that we only know, when we know with the heart.

Ki Teitzei 5768

From the front pages of the New York Times, the Forward, and other papers, we are learning about Jewish companies, doing business in and for the Jewish community, that treat employees poorly. Rabbi Hamilton has raised questions about the general trustworthiness of companies, owners, and supervisors who behave this way to guarantee that they are operating according to the principles and values of Jewish law. This is a particularly poignant issue because of what we learn in this week’s parashah.

The following comment by Rabbi Laurie Coskey, comes from Mekor Chaim, a series of messages on the parashah by members of the United Jewish Communities’ Rabbinic Cabinet, in 2004, with slight emendations and additions by Danny Margolis.

Parashat Ki Tetzey demands that we examine all aspects of our lives and the governance of our personal, social and business ethics.  In America today, there is no more important ethical concern than how we treat our low wage workers, "the laborers" as they are referred to in our Torah text.   

These men and women – and, unfortunately, children-- are often invisible to us.  They work as home health care workers caring for our infirmed.  They work as maids and janitors in our hotels and offices, they work in the fields, in the cities, and in food processing plants, earning minimum wages or just above.  They are reported to be mistreated, and frequently penalized for accidents and absences; and they may not have vacation or sick days, health or dental insurance benefits. 

It is here in our parashah that we find the basis for much of the halakhah and Jewish perspective on the rights of the laborer. We are instructed in Deuteronomy 24:14-15:  "You shall not abuse a needy and destitute laborer, whether a fellow countryman or a stranger in one of the communities of your land.  You must pay him his wages on the same day, before the sun sets, for he is needy and urgently depends on it; else he will cry to the Lord against you and you shall incur guilt."  This law was created by our ancestors thousands of years ago to protect a worker's dignity and physical needs.  The Talmud in Bava Metzia takes it a step further, "He who withholds an employee's wages is as though he deprived him of his life." 

Throughout our Torah are many very specific instructions on the proper and just treatment of workers.  They are often framed by a reminder that because we were workers/slaves in the land of Egypt, we must therefore show both justice and compassion for those who labor on our behalf. We must remember that though we began as ‘avadim –workers – in Egypt, how easy it was for the “boss”, who didn’t remember Joseph, nor the values of  Tzedek- fairness and equity- that Joseph promulgated for everyone in Egypt , to subvert those basic principles and transform us into slaves. When Jews forget or ignore our basic mitzvot and values, we suffer, and the world is diminished as well.

We have a contribution to make to America as Jews: to share the wisdom of our system of values, including the protections afforded by our Torah and our Rabbinic tradition to those who earn their daily bread by the sweat of their brows. 

The prophetic mandates of all religions demand that we concern ourselves with the poor, particularly the working poor.  It is within our reach to help these food processors, janitors, housekeepers, dishwashers, nursing home attendants, security guards, child care workers, landscapers and many other laborers, take a step out of poverty simply by giving them their due -- just wages and benefits for the efforts of their own hands. This begins with our own employees at KI (who, so far as I know, are treated well, including our subcontractors), and extends to our influence in the larger community.

Rabbi Laurie Coskey is the spiritual leader of Chavurah Kol Haneshama in San Diego, CA

Nitzavim 5768

At the beginning of the parasha, Moses tells the assembled, “And I am not making this covenant and this oath with you alone, but with the one who is here standing with us today in front of the Lord our God, and with the one who isn’t here with us today.”

So the question arises, is it fair that a covenant can bind future generations that had no part in accepting it? In addressing this fundamental question, Nehama Leibowitz, in her commentary, cites Abravanel’s answer. A man’s heirs, Abravanel reminds us, are responsible for his debts even though they weren’t around when the debt was incurred. The debt, of course, is from Israel to God for God having, 1. Freed Israel from Egyptian bondage; 2. Given to Israel the Torah (the means toward spiritual perfection) and 3.Provided as a loan to Israel the land they were to inherit. Abravanel concludes, “Since the foundation of the covenant and this eternal subjection to the Almighty derived from the departure from Egypt, this historic fact was continually referred to by the Almighty and on the lips of His prophets, and all the feasts of the Lord were ‘a memorial of the going out of Egypt’; for this indicated their eternal bondage.”

Leibowitz argues with Abravanel’s metaphor. “A child,” she writes, “can always forego his inheritance and consequently rid himself of any obligations and debts involved. On the other hand, the binding nature of the Sinaitic revelation on the Jewish people is absolute and cannot be foregone.” And it is true, I find it compelling to stress that we cannot shake off the debt since neither can we shake off our inheritance. Today’s generation of Jews would still be slaves if Israel had not been redeemed; we all benefit from the Torah in that it has had a huge impact on the world we live in; and currently Jews occupy the land of Israel.

Harold Kushner, in the Etz Hayim commentary, follows a similar line of reasoning: “Many aspects of our lives were determined by decisions of our parents and ancestors, including when and where we would be born, what skills and physical qualities we would possess, and where and how we would be educated.” In other words, we each, Jew and non-Jew, inherit the covenants of our forebears because they are built into us and cannot be discarded.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, rather than choosing the metaphor of indebtedness, finds a partial parallel to the Sinaitic covenant in the United States Constitution. It is interesting to contemplate that parallel in this context (a different one than the one in which he suggests it). As Americans, we’ve inherited the Constitution even though we had no part in it. And we’ve inherited the consequences of America’s acts as it has been guided by that document over the course of 230 years, even if we didn’t agree with them. And as Americans we’re bound to live up to the Constitution’s ideals, as best we can understand them.

 Sam Tarlin

Re'eh 5768

Re'eh: Mann Ist Was Mann Est: One Is What One Eats.

This old German folk saying is relevant not only for our physical health and our body's condition but also for our spiritual health and our soul's condition. The German proverb is taken seriously by many of the world's religions that seek to elevate the physical act of eating that humans have in common with animals to a spirtual discipline characterized by dietary laws. This is the common denominator for Hindus, Buddhists and Taoists in the Far East, for Jews Christians and Muslims in the West and even for Native Americans and Australian and African aborigines. But the objectives of each religion are different as are their dietary laws that express the unique culture of each tradition.

For Jews the objective is the hallowing of life expressed in the reverence for life as indicated by the verse in our Torah portion: "But make sure that you do not partake of the blood; for the blood is the life and you must not consume the life with the flesh (Deut.12:23). From the Jewish perspective, as explained by Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, the first Chief Rabbi of the Land of Israel and the greatest Kabbalist of the 20th century, vegetarianism is the human ideal. The first humans in Eden were vegetarians and the Jewish messianic vision pictures all of humanity and even the animal kingdom as vegans in the Messianic Age (Isaiah 11).
According to this interpretation, the eating of meat was a concession made owing to the decline in human spirituality and moral consciousness after the Flood in the time of Noah (Genesis 9: 2-4). This is the general principle according to Rav Kook. But is there any significance in the detailed laws in which animals, birds and insects are classified as kosher or non-kosher?

First, as the ETZ HAYIM Torah commentary (page 637) points out on the dietary laws discussed in the Sidrah Sh'mini (Leviticus 11:1-47), considerations of health do not play a role nor does concern for meat spoiling in the desert heat. Does one really need a law prohibiting eating spoiled meat? The central issue as stated in Leviticus 11:44 is holiness. The root meaning of holiness is to
"set apart," and the Jewish dietary laws do have the intended purpose of setting apart Israel from the nations, Jews from non-Jews. They are a badge of Jewish identity. Holiness also implies unity, integrity, as well as perfection of the individual and the species. As biblical scholars and anthropologists have pointed out, holiness in this sense applied to the dietary laws means that kosher animals conform fully to their class. Non-kosher animals are imperfect members of their class or their class itself confuses the scheme of creation and the order of the world. The pig does not conform to the perfect model of the domesticated meat-animal in a rural socie ty because it is not ruminant (does not chew its cud) though it has cloven hoofs. The Torah law code sought to
separate not only animals that were generic opposites but even those that appeared dangerously close to each other. Thus the prohibition in our Torah portion of boiling a kid in its mother's milk (Deut. 14:21). The Hebrew mind had a horror of the hybrid whether it was an animal bird or insect that seemed to straddle two groups or even a fabric woven of linen and wool (Deut. 22:11).
This lack of separation symbolized the return to chaos that existed before God's separations in Genesis 1 that are the hallmark of creation.

To sum up, the dietary laws symbolize for Jews and non-Jews that as God brought order out of chaos, so must Jews, by using as food creatures that fit safely into clear categories of classification. Similarly, by avoiding as food the indeterminate and amorphous species that evoke echoes of primordial chaos, the Jews symbolically demonstrate their obligation and determination to uphold the clarity and order of creation. The Jewish dietary laws consider as non-kosher the meat of predatory animals or birds because as God is a living God and God's commandments confer life on those who observe them, so must Jews forfeit as food creatures that are primarily predators.

Rabbi Joseph Schultz

Eikev 5768

Anyone who has ever been to Israel or even seen photos of the country would agree that Israel is a land of beauty.  I have experienced this beauty during trips to Jerusalem, the Negev desert, and the Mediterranean Sea.  This week’s Torah portion, Eikev, provides a poetic description of the beauty of Israel: "For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land with streams and springs and fountains issuing from plain and hill; a land of wheat and barley, of [grape] vines, figs and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and [date] honey; a land where you may eat food without stint, and where you will lack nothing" (Deuteronomy 8:7–10).  What I find remarkable about this description is the accuracy of the text in both biblical and current times.  Even though these words were written thousands of years ago, they are still relevant today.

 

In this parsha the Israelites find themselves listening to Moses on the cusp of entering the Land.  Naturally, they are eager to get into Canaan, for they have been in the wilderness for quite some time.  Just when the Israelites feel that they are close to the land, Moses reminds them of their experiences during the journey. For example, he remembers the positive experience of the Exodus from Egypt and the negative experience of the Golden Calf.  The Israelites find themselves in a period of anticipation and reflection, just as one might prepare for or reflect on a trip to Israel.  Moses’ reflection of the journey helps the Israelites appreciate their covenant with God and the promise of Canaan.

 

This is one of many instances in the Torah when Moses and God work together to show God’s power.  In this week’s portion, we see this model when the Israelites receive manna to eat, “in order to teach you that human beings do not live on bread alone, but that they may live on anything that God decrees” (Deuteronomy 8:3).  Parshat Eikev is a reminder of our relationship with God and our responsibility to perform Mitzvot, as well as our role in ensuring that we will be provided with everything we need in our lives.

 

The Israelites are challenged to reflect on their experiences in the wilderness and to keep Mitzvot before entering the Promised Land.  Similarly, visitors to Israel often feel these emotions.  As you prepare for your next trip, be it to Israel or elsewhere, let these words of Torah help you reflect on your relationship with God so that you may grow and move forward from one journey to the next.

 

I wish you a wonderful Shabbat,

 

Philip Sherman

Devarim 5768

Eileh ha-DEVARIM asher diber Moshe el-kol-Yisroel

These are the WORDS which Moshe spoke to all Israel…

 

Polonius: …What do you read, my lord?

Hamlet: Words, words, words (Act II, sc ii)

 

Devarim is a book of words. More precisely, Devarim is a book of words about other words, i.e., words written in the previous four books of the Torah (with a few notable additions and amendments.) For this reason, an old name for Devarim is Mishneh Torah, literally ‘a second Torah’, or ‘a repetition of the Torah.’

 

Why a repetition? Israel didn’t get the message the first time? Are there problems with devarim that are solved by repetition? What are devarim anyway?

 

The underlying meaning of the root dalet-bet-resh (d-b-r) is uncertain, but probably means “go away” (Brown-Driver-Briggs). Gesenius suggests d-b-r means “range in order”. A composite definition renders d-b-r as “go away in a particular direction.”

 

Graphically, d-b-r may be represented as follows:

 

Fig. 1 (origin) à (end point)

 

The arrow represents the root d-b-r itself. The arrow takes off from an origin, or starting point. The starting point may be God, a person’s mouth, a corral, or a hive, as we will see shortly. The end point may be our ears, a patch of grass, or even the oblivion of death.

 

The arrow itself, the root d-b-r, branches in four directions in biblical Hebrew. Here are three of them:

 

1. To go away into oblivion, to perish: This branch gives dever, pestilence, as in the fifth plague on Egypt (Shemot 9:1-7.)
2. To lead away, to guide: This gives midbar and dover, the wilderness into which a shepherd leads cattle to graze; devorah, a swarm of bees that fly in a (bee) line; and dovrot, rafts that float away (Mlachim 5:23).
3. To speak, to go away from the mouth in a sequence of words, as in l’dabber.

 

Branch number three gives us the title of our book. Devarim are words, things, and matters about which one speaks. They possess no intrinsic meaning, but they carry meaning as a boxcar carries cargo. Mathematicians may recognize devarim as vectors, constructs that possess only direction and magnitude. I prefer the biologists’ definition of vector, i.e. a creature that carries a disease-causing agent on its back. For example, the deer tick itself doesn’t carry Lyme disease: the tick is a vector that carries the germ that causes Lyme disease! L’havdil, devarim are vectors that transport meaning.

 

A useful analogy is the relationship of lock to key. A key may fit into many locks, but only certain pairs will fit correctly. Devarim may be thought of as keys that may fit into several locks, or meanings, but only certain key-lock pairs will convey meaning. A shared feature of devarim and keys is that both allow the existence of a master key: one key opens all members of a lock set; one devar unlocks a group of meanings.

 

We find the master key to understanding d-b-r in the fourth branch of meaning:

 

4. Devir (dalet-vet-yud-resh) is a synonym for Kodesh Kodashim, the holy of holies, or the innermost chamber of the Beit HaMikdash. The closest relation to devir is an Arabic word meaning “hindmost portion”. Unlike the first three branches, devir refers to the origin of the vector, rather than to the end point.

 

The vector’s origin is essential to understanding the meaning of d-b-r. Thus dever, pestilence, is judgment sent out by God. You send out your cattle from your corral/home to graze in the midbar. Devorah fly away from their hive/home led by their queen. And devarim are exquisitely sensitive to their speaker, or Speaker. The root d-b-r invites us to trace the arrow backwards to the origin where fuller understanding may be found.

 

Sefer Devarim is an invitation to trace words of Torah back to the Origin, where you may locate their essential meanings.

 

Ki mi-Tzion teitze torah, oo-DEVAR Hashem mYrushalim

For Torah goes forth from Zion, and the WORD of God from Jerusalem

 RPL