Shelach / שלך

Parshat Shelach is "schelached-full" of important stories and halachot, but the famous story of the spies calls out for our attention. Especially at this time, when anyone who follows the news at all is inundated with dire predictions and absolutist pronunciations the story of the מרגלים seems extra relevant.

שְׁלַח לְךָ אֲנָשִׁים וְיָתֻרוּ אֶת אֶרֶץ כְּנַעַן אֲשֶׁר אֲנִי נֹתֵן לִבְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל...

"Send out for yourself men who will scout the Land of Canaan, which I am giving to the children of Israel…"(Numbers 13:2)

The key word is this phrase is the second - שלך לך , send to you, or to yourself. This second word gives us the clue that this is not a simply journey. Moses needs to undergo a spiritual test here, like Abraham when God commanded him to לך לך, go "to yourself" way back in the book of Bereshit.

Rashi points out to that God commands the spies as a reaction to Moses telling him about how the people approached him (Deut 1:22)

וַתִּקְרְבוּן אֵלַי כֻּלְּכֶם וַתֹּאמְרוּ נִשְׁלְחָה אֲנָשִׁים לְפָנֵינוּ וְיַחְפְּרוּ לָנוּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ

"And all of you approached me and said, 'Let us send men ahead of us so that they will search out the land for us.' "

Another way to interpret שלך לך, also found in the Rashi, is to say that this whole mission is basically Moses' prerogative. God would not have commanded this on his own accord. Basically - 'ok, do this, but do it in the way that you think is best, if you really need to do it at all.'

This is an unusual commandment - usually there is not much room for flexibility in what God commands. It also helps us to understand why Moses seems to think the mission is doomed from the start.

Before the spies leave, Moses pulls aside the hero Hoshea son of Nun, for a quick conference. He gives him a new name - יהושע - meaning God will save You. Rashi takes this to mean 'may God save you from the council of the spies.'

A truly interesting moment. Moses in effect chooses to send his best men out on a mission that God seems to be ambivalent about, and also warns/blesses his favorite of the spies not to heed the council of the others. If the other guys council will be so bad, why send them at all?

To me, this seems like a propaganda mission. Moses is all to aware of the bickering and negativeness of B'nai Israel, and he is worried that all may not be totally smooth sailing on the way to / once they enter the land. His "mixed multitude" tends to find the negative in everything, and is quick to find fault, especially with Moses and Aaron, but also God, so he is hoping that hearing tales of the bountiful harvests and weak inhabitants will give the people hope and maybe a vision of the future.

Moses does have a good handle on the fears / hopes of the people, so he must have been trusting his own judgement as a leader, a commendably trait, even if the results do not turn out as planned. And, as we know, the reports of most of the spies are very negative.

This reminds me of a story.

My first experience living in Israel was a six-month volunteering trip where we lived in Nes Ziona and taught English to youngsters. One of the first activities of the trip was a lecture from one of the leaders of the provider company. He talked about Jewish history, why we are here, etc., but finished with an antidote that made a big impression and has stayed with me ever since.

He said something like 'You can have two kinds of trips here in Israel, it's totally up to you. Despite our best efforts, there WILL BE enough problems, delays, uncomfortable conditions, etc., for you to be totally preoccupied with them. You could easily sit and home, complain, and get very little out of your six months. Or, you can focus on the positives and have the time of your life - it's your call.'

What really struck me about this mini-speech was his certainty that problems would arise. It wasn't that they might - they definitely will! This is such a powerful idea, because it sucks the wind out of the problems. If you're 100% sure that there will be hiccups along the way, you are not surprised when they arise and can deal with them appopriately. They become just small obstacles in the way of getting what we want, not impassable roadblocks.

Sure enough, most of my colleagues sat at home, complained about food/weather/Israeli culture/the program/lack of quality TV/whatever, and were miserable. I, on the other hand, got out in to the country, met tons of people, learned some Hebrew, and had a life changing experience that led me to make Aliyah. I truly believe that Amnon's speech set the tone, and I was able to take everything in stride.

Unfortunately, the spies didn't hear this lecture - and were totally overwhelmed by the negatives. They said

בָּאנוּ אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר שְׁלַחְתָּנוּ, וְגַם זָבַת חָלָב וּדְבַשׁ הִוא וְזֶה פִּרְיָהּ:

"We came to the land to which you sent us, and it is flowing with milk and honey, and this is its fruit.

אֶפֶס כִּי עַז הָעָם הַיֹּשֵׁב בָּאָרֶץ וְהֶעָרִים בְּצֻרוֹת גְּדֹלֹת מְאֹד וְגַם יְלִדֵי הָעֲנָק רָאִינוּ שָׁם:

However, the people who inhabit the land are mighty, and the cities are extremely huge and fortified, and there we saw even the offspring of the giant.

(Numbers 27:28)

The English translation doesn't do the stinging quality of the report justice. They describe the land as flowing with milk and honey, and then say אפס,, zero, meaning that all this is for naught, because of the mighty inhabitants, fortifications, etc.

Zero!! This is truly the sin of the spies. It's not a problem to use your senses and understand a challenge, but to totally lose hope and say all is for nothing, especially when you know God is literally leading your way, is truly unforgivable. By using that word, אפס, they are basically saying that all the people's hardships along the way, not to mention God's salvation in Egypt, is for naught.

Our choice of words can have such a powerful effect. Especially if we need to give a less than favorable report, they way that we present it makes all the difference in the world.

To my great sorrow, we live in an increasingly polarized age. The advent of the 24 hour news cycle and social media have an effect of encouraging radical, controversial views, and making idealogical divides harder to bridge. Add to this the fact that our world wide economy is troubled, the international community is paralyzed, and violent conflicts are popping up left and right, and you have a recipe for despair and uninhibited negative speech.

At times like these, we all need to remember the power of a well placed positive word and balanced language. Our perceptions and speech truly turn into reality, so let's remember to take the bad with the good, always accentuate the positives. There are almost always more positives in any given situaion than we realize.

I want to bless everyone here today to be inspired by the words of our ancestor Caleb, son of Ye'fu'neh, - "We can surely go up and take possession of it, for we can indeed overcome it."

Bahaalotecha / בְּהַעֲלֹתְךָ

Today I want to focus on one of my favorite Biblical characters, Jethro, who has a small but significant part in this week's portion, Beha'a'lo'techa.

A bit of history: We first meet Jethro, a priest of the Midian people, after Moses escapes from Egypt because he murdered an Egyptian guard who was hitting a Jew. During his wonderings, Moses helps Jethro's daughters out of a sticky situation and waters their flock. When Jethro hears their report of an Egyptian man who helped them out, Jethro basically says "how could you let such a mensch go! Get him over here and let's have a meal together." He may well have had marriage plans from the get-go!

Moses ends up marrying one of his daughters, Zipporah, and Yitro's descendants even warrant a portion of land in Eretz Yisrael - the city of Jericho (Judges 1:16).

Yitro is also said to have made a key contribution to the Jewish lexicon. When Yitro met Moses in the desert after the Exodus, and Moses told him that transpired, both for the good and the bad, Jethro basically responded "Baruch HaShem!" In fact, he was the first to use the word "baruch," meaning blessed or praised, in this most traditional sense.
(Exodus 18:10)

Yitro's most famous Biblical escapade, and the one that earned him his own parsha in the Torah, is when he serves as a kind of judicial consultant and teacher to Moses. Moses is exhausted and stressed out from sitting in judgement of the people all day, so Jethro advises Moses to delegate responsibility in the legal system, allowing local chieftains to rule on routine cases, with more challenging cases getting appealed up the line. Only the most challenging cases find their way to Moses.

We find echoes of this legal system all the way from the Sanhedrin to the United States Judiciary today. Not bad for a former priest of a foreign people who may or may not have ever converted to Judaism! The Talmud debates this question at length, without a definitive answer.

All this brings us to this week's portion: B'nai Israel has been arranged in their traveling formations, inaugurated the Mishkan and are journeying/laying camp in accordance with the coming and goings of the divine cloud that rests above the Mishkan. When the cloud is there, the people stay in camp, and when the cloud "goes up," they break camp and follow Moses. All in all, the movements are coordinated, orderly, and divinely inspired.

One day, Yitro tells Moses:

לֹא אֵלֵךְ כִּי אִם אֶל אַרְצִי וְאֶל מוֹלַדְתִּי אֵלֵךְ:

He said to him, I won't go [to the Promised Land], for I will go to my land and my birthplace. (Numbers 10:30)

As a side note, the argument I referred to earlier over Jethro's conversion is based on his verse - whether or not Jethro is going back to convert his countrymen, or simply to return home.

Anyhow, Moses is extremely distressed by Jethro's request, and counters with a beautiful, though somewhat puzzling reply:

וַיֹּאמֶר, אַל נָא תַּעֲזֹב אֹתָנוּ, כִּי עַל כֵּן יָדַעְתָּ חֲנֹתֵנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר, וְהָיִיתָ לָּנוּ לְעֵינָיִם:

He said, Please don't leave us, for because you are familiar with our encampments in the desert and you will be our guide. (Numbers 10:31)

There are three parts to this statement - don't leave us, you are familiar with our encampments, and you are/will be our guide.

נא תעזוב, don't leave us, is pretty clear. The rest of the verse is trickier.

According to Rashi, 'you are familiar with our encampments' has two possible meanings. The first one is literal, that Jethro is very helpful with finding suitable camping places, because he is more at home in the desert than the Israelites. This explanation is a bit weak to me, because it is none other than God who is deciding when and where B'nai Israel makes camp, so why would Moses need a mortal guide?

That being said, there is a certain parallel to early Zionist history here. When the Halutzim, pioneers, returned to the land, they needed guides that would help them learn the ways the land - it's wadis and oasises, as well as it's food sources. There are numerous stories of these desert Jews who learned Arabic and interacted closely with the Arab population. Besides, someone had to teach these boys from the shtetl how to make real coffee!

Seriously though, Rashi's other explanation, inspired by the Targum, provides serious food for thought. This is that Yitro had seen the miracles in the desert first hand, so now he was one of God's people as well.

If the vision in the "Aleinu" prayer is to come to pass, when all people will know the one true God, Yitro can serve as a model for us to reach out to other faith communities in the world. Have they also not been a witness/partner in God's miracles? Not only do we witness God's miracles every day, but we share an obsession with reading about these very same miracles in our shared history.

Can Yitro serve as religious figure that actually unites people of different religions, as opposed to dividing them?

In fact, Jethro is seen as a prophet is both Islam and the Druze religion.

To Muslims, he is known as Shu'ayb, and is one of only five Arabian prophets mentioned in the Koran. He was known as an "eloquent preacher amongst the prophets" for his rhetorical abilities. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jethro_%28Bible%29) This is strikingly similar to the Jewish story about the man who offered the first formal blessing.

Very little is known of the Druze faith to outsiders, but they apparently believe that Saladin was promised victory over the Crusaders only if he would visit Jethro's tomb, known as Nebi Shu'eib. Overlooking the Kineret, Druze gather there until this day to discuss communal affairs (http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Society_&_Culture/druze.html)

Anyhow, back to our verse, which finishes והיית לנו לעינים. Rashi interprets this to be in the future tense, meaning something like "If anything should be hidden from our eyes, you shall enlighten us."

This reading expands on the idea of inter-religious harmony detailed above, but goes a step further. True, Moses says, we follow a particular way of life which you may not follow, however you are still a great teacher and a religious man that we can learn from.

The belief that revelation is a zero-sum game, that my group has it all and yours has none, leads to a dangerous kind of fundamentalism, self-imposed segregation and violence that we see more and more of everyday, in all corners of the world. The interaction between Moses and Yitro show that there is another way - mutual respect and admiration can win the day.

This does not neccesarily mean that we are all one big happy family - Yitro returns home in the end. His true place is among his own people, in his homeland, and not living as a Jew.

If we can only look at it the right way, perhaps the very same religious understandings that so often drive us apart can provide exactly the kind of elevated consciousness that will one day bring peace to this troubled land.

Bamidbar / במדבר

This week's parsha, Bamidbar, kicks off a new book of the Torah - איזה כיף!

As always, the Hebrew name of the first parsha is the same as the name of the book, so Bamidbar is the also the name of the book.

In English it's called the Book of Numbers. In my opinion, this is one of the rare cases where the English name is more fitting than the Hebrew name. One of the main features of ספר במדבר are the censuses that God commands to be carried out. More on this later.

Not to be outdone, the Book of Numbers also has an additional Hebrew name, חומש פקודים, or the book of counting. This is the best name yet, because the Hebrew root פ.ק.ד denotes not just generalized counting, but can also mean taking authority of something, like commander - מפקד.. Other forms of the verb can mean appoint, or even agent or clerk. All of these terms are very applicable to this week's parsha, and the book in general.

The book starts off with God speaking to Moses, telling him to take a census of the people.

שְׂאוּ אֶת רֹאשׁ כָּל עֲדַת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל לְמִשְׁפְּחֹתָם לְבֵית אֲבֹתָם בְּמִסְפַּר שֵׁמוֹת כָּל זָכָר לְגֻלְגְּלֹתָם:

"Take the sum of all the congregation of the children of Israel, by families following their fathers' houses; a head count of every male according to the number of their names."
(Numbers 1:2)

At first, this seems like an odd request - why would God need to know how many Israelites there were at the time? For a God who can part the sea and bring down manna from the heavens, a simple head count shouldn't be too much of a challenge.

As always, Rashi helps us out: [he counted them] Because they were dear to Him, He counted them often. When they left Egypt, He counted them (Exod. 12:37); when [many] fell because [of the sin] of the golden calf, He counted them to know the number of the survivors (Exod. 32:28); when He came to cause His Divine Presence to rest among them, He counted them. On the first of Nissan, the Mishkan was erected, and on the first of Iyar, He counted them."

This is a nice image - God is like the record collector in the movie High Fidelity, endlessly sorting and resorting his records in different ways, and constantly making different "top 10" lists. A nice sentiment, but let's look deeper.

The Hebrew word choice is revealing here. As happens so frequently when translating Biblical Hebrew, translators try to make sense of the text, and don't just translate word for word. While this may get the main point across, the subtlety of meaning and beauty of the language is completely lost.

The Hebrew reads שאו את ראש כל עדת ישראל - literally "lift up the heads" of the Community of Israel. So how does taking a census "lift up the heads of Israel?"

I thought of three main ways:

First off, censuses focus on individuals, not groups. God does not want an estimation of how many Israelites there are, God wants to know exactly (well, at least how many male head of households there are….).

This is a huge contrast to life in Egypt. where we were not individuals at all. Our identity was only group based. If one of us was injured during a day of work, another was immediately switched into his place - one cog in the wheel is the same as any other.

When a group wants to degrade another group, they can do it by dehumanization, which is another way of saying "to take away uniqueness." This is why the Nazis gave us numbers, identical clothes, and crew cuts. Emotionally speaking it's a lot easier to do harm to a group than it is to an individual, with name, a history, a personality.

Judaism takes the opposite approach. Each person, made in the image of God is precious, and indeed, saving one life is like saving the world.

So the first way that the census raises up our heads is to take note of our individualism, our uniqueness.

The second way of "raising the heads" is inspired by the venerable Psalm 121:

שיר למעלות , אשא עיני אל ההרים, מאין לבוא עזרי?

"A song to the ascents. I raise my eyes to the mountains, from where will my help come?"

עזרי מעם ה', עושה שמים וארץ

"My help comes from God, maker of heaven and earth"

The psalmist is reminding us of the ultimate source of hope in tough times, God. This must have been a very stark reality for the Israelites, who saw first hand how God gave them the strength to defeat the armies of Amalek. When Moses's staff was lowered, Amalek gained the upper hand. Only by Moses fulfilling God's will were the totally un-battle-hardened Israelites able to triumph.

Just a few parshiot back, we witnessed the Divine presence entering the Mishkan, so God's presence was truly felt all around us, in a very physical sense. By lifting the eyes of each individual up the heavens, we are reminded of our absolute need of the holy presence.

Our parsha also details the formation in which the B'nai Israel traveled. The Mishkan was in the center, guarded closely by the Levis and surrounded on all four sides by the tribes, in an organized fashion. Each Israelite played in keeping safe our only sense of survival in the harsh wilderness!

The final "lifting of heads" is inspired by the 3rd part of the Priestly Blessing:

יִשָּׂא ה' פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ וְיָשֵׂם לְךָ שָׁלוֹם:

"May the God lift up His face unto you and give you peace"

Not only do we lift up our heads towards God, but God lifts up his "face" towards us. Without us as partners of the Covenant, God's marvelous creation is unfulfilled. Sure, the animals and plants perform God's will, but they have no choice.

Humans are the only beings that can choose - in this sense we can overpower God, because our free will is absolute, at least in my opinion.

We are God's great hope. This is why God tried again after the generation of the flood, and wasn't content to let humans go the way of the dinosaurs. We are an essential part of God's creation, so after we raise our heads to God, God raises God's "head" towards us.

In placing the census here, the Torah's timing is impeccable. After the details of the priestly code, and all the worry about purity and impurity, God once again reminds us of his love for us, that he will be there for us, and that he needs us, no matter where we are in life. More than this, God's love is not just for B'nai Israel as a whole, but for every single member of the tribe.

I want to bless everyone here today to walk the streets with the feeling that God's loves you - because God does.

Bechukotai / בחקותי

Especially this week, less industrious Jews in Israel have some luck. We only need to study one parsha, Behukotai, while our brethen in the Diaspora need also study Behar. Jews abroad will be listening to almost 3 complete chapters on Chumash this Shabbat, while we get only two.

How could such a situation arise? I had the opportunity to listen to a shiur on this topic by the incomparable Rabbi Joel Roth, and I'd like to take take a few minutes to pass some of this knowledge along, albeit in an abbreviated form, as well as add a few thoughts of my own.

I have spoken briefly before about doubled Torah portions, why sometimes we need to read two parshiot in a week in order to read the entire Five Books of Moses in a given calendar year. I said that the number of parshiot, 54, is more than the number of Shabbats in a non leap year - 51 or 52.

We also need to consider the fact that we don't read the normal weekly portion on holidays, or Hol HaMoed, the intermediate days of the holiday, meaning that we "miss out" on additional weekly readings, further pressuring us to double up and be more efficient. As you can see, the question is not IF we need to double up readings, it's more a question of when.

Furthermore, holidays are celebrated differently here in Israel then they are elsewhere. As we know, diaspora Jews get two seders on the first two nights, and celebrate for a total of 8 days, while in Israel we get a mere 7 day of matzah festival. This is a main reason why the Torah readings get un-coordinated - what if Shabbat falls on the 8th day of Pesach in the diaspora? Jews there need to read the special "Hol HaMoed" reading, while in Israel it's a normal Shabbat so we read as usual.

Of course, the situation is not static from year to year, and changes depending on how the holidays fall. I won't even get into the subject of a leap year, in which case everything is thrown off.

Clearly, determining the yearly cycle of Torah readings is not for the faint of heart!

So how do we know which parshiot to double, and when? Luckily, our tradition has been looking at this question for many centuries, and gives us guidance.

Our sages were concerned that the weekly portions containing curses, namely Behukotai and Ki Tavo, might fall on the holidays of Rosh HaShana and Shavuot. In the words of the Tosefot (Masechet Magilla, 31 page 2):

"אנו קורין במדבר סיני קודם עצרת כדי שלא להסמיך בקללות שבבחוקותי"

"We read Parshat BaHar before Shavuot, in order to not associate it with the curses of Buhokotai,

This makes sense - we may be less excited about receiving the Torah if we hear about the possible downsides!

The Rambam also adds two other rules. First, we must read ואתחנן after Tisha Ba'av, giving us Shabbat Nachamu, the Shabbat of Consolation, after reliving some of the worst events in our people's history. His other rule is wonderfully practical - צו needs to read before Passover, because it contains the laws for cleaning one's house of Hametz. You gotta' love the Rambam - always the pragmatist.

Once we have this framework, our task becomes simpler - we just have to line up the parshiot it their correct places, like a 54-piece holy jigsaw puzzle. The big questions is which parshiot to double.

Rabbi Roth proposes two criteria: We first double parshiot that have similar content, like Acharei Mot - Kedushim (rules of priestly conduct in the temple), Tazria/Metzora (skin infections), etc. His second rule, which he says is up for argument, but I am apt to take his word for it - is that we wait until the last possible minute to double up, if no other similar content can be found. This explains a pairing like Matot -Masai, because they ensure that we will read the curses in their correct place, two weeks before Rosh HaShana.

Because we wait until the last possible minute to double up, there can be up to 18 weeks where the Diaspora and Israel are reading different parshiot - a nightmare for Bar-Mitzvah students who could practice their portion for a year, come to Israel, and realize they are a week behind!

I'm not sure about the deeper theological meanings for all of this, but it is really amazing to think of all the work that goes into something which seems on the outset to be so simple.

We end the book of Leviticus with a reminder to walk בחוקותי - in the way of God - which also sounds simple. Just follow the directions right?

This week's parsha pivots on one verse. We have been reading about all the blessings we will receive for the correct behavior, but then we get to Chapter 26 Verse 14:

וְאִם לֹא תִשְׁמְעוּ לִי וְלֹא תַעֲשׂוּ אֵת כָּל הַמִּצְוֹת הָאֵלֶּה:

"But if you do not listen to Me and do not perform all these commandments…"

We all know where this is going - and it's not pretty. However, I think the above verse provides us with a great introduction in what God really wants from us, and just like the Torah reading calendar, it's not as simple as it looks.

I break the above verse into two criteria for receiving God's blessing - לשמוע to hear, and לעשות, to do,

As we finish up the Book of Leviticus, one of the main lessons seems to be attention to detail - when doing holy work the priests were expected to be incredibly exacting in their actions, clothing, even thoughts. Our tradition in general puts a premium on precision, reading the correct portion, saying the correct blessing, etc. We have over 613 specific actions we are commanded to take - this clearly takes care of the לעשות - "doing" part.

But what about the other part, לשמוע , hearing God? To Rashi, this means Torah study - to "hear" the sages. However, no offense to Rashi, or Torah study, but I think to hear God is more than this. We also need to use our God-given judgement, our conscience, to do the right thing in any given moment - we can't find the answer to all of life's problems in books.

Call it what you want - right brain / left brain, physical / spiritual, Hasidism vs. Litvakism, it's all different ways to describe the above dichotomy.

To truly walk in the way of God, we must use all of our resources and human potential, not just follows law, no matter how learned we may be, and not just use our moral sense, no matter how highly developed it may be.

I wish all of you here today the blessing of renewal, of finding something new and holy to get excited about, and the opportunity to learn from others about how to develop parts of us that need it.

Behar / בהר

Be'har בהר

This week's Parsha is a dramatic departure from almost everything we have read in the book of Leviticus up until this point. In our previous eight portions, topics included sacrifices, skin diseases, rules for priests and sexual prohibitions.

Now, all of a sudden we get hit with something surprising and exciting - making Aliyah! (Lev 25:2)

דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם כִּי תָבֹאוּ אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אֲנִי נֹתֵן לָכֶם וְשָׁבְתָה הָאָרֶץ שַׁבָּת לַי־הֹוָ־ה:

"Speak to the children of Israel and you shall say to them: When you come to the land that I am giving you, the land shall rest a Sabbath to the Lord."

What?!? I thought we were given this land as an inheritance, now there are even rules for when we can harvest "our" land? B'nai Yisrael is just beginning to realize there is something very special about this land, apart from the flowing milk and honey. It is spelled out most clearly a few verses later (Lev 25:23)

וְהָאָרֶץ לֹא תִמָּכֵר לִצְמִתֻת כִּי לִי הָאָרֶץ כִּי גֵרִים וְתוֹשָׁבִים אַתֶּם עִמָּדִי:

"The land shall not be sold permanently, for the land belongs to Me, for you are strangers and [temporary] residents with Me."

This must have come as quite a shock to a people fervently waiting to inherit their promised property. It turns out that the "property" isn't really theirs at all!

As we read on, we learn the rules of the seventh year, where the land must lie uncultivated. This is perhaps a bit worrying, especially for a people all too used to food scarcity, but the next verse has it beat: (Lev 25:10)

וְקִדַּשְׁתֶּם אֵת שְׁנַת הַחֲמִשִּׁים שָׁנָה וּקְרָאתֶם דְּרוֹר בָּאָרֶץ לְכָל יֹשְׁבֶיהָ יוֹבֵל הִוא תִּהְיֶה לָכֶם וְשַׁבְתֶּם אִישׁ אֶל אֲחֻזָּתוֹ וְאִישׁ אֶל מִשְׁפַּחְתּוֹ תָּשֻׁבוּ:

"And you shall sanctify the fiftieth year, and proclaim freedom [for slaves] throughout the land for all who live on it. It shall be a Jubilee for you, and you shall return, each man to his property, and you shall return, each man to his family."

The שנת יובל, or Jubilee Year, is a truly revolutionary concept. Every 50 years, all slaves are to be freed and all land sales are declared null and void. That is to say, all land is returned to those who inhabitated it originally, when B'nai Yisrael conquered the land and the plots were divided according to the Torah.

The Jubilee year serves as a restart button - all the economic progress that a person has made is almost completely erased. More than this, it reminds us that we are not really owners, in a permanent sense, of anything in this world, let alone property in Eretz Yisrael.

These days, the Jubilee Year is not binding, due to a few technicalities including the high amount of Jews living in the diaspora, the fact that we are not in control of the entire promised land, the destruction of the Temple and the dissolution of the Sanhedrin, who were charging with keeping track of the counting.

That being said, the lesson of the Jubilee Year is very current. Most of us spend inordinate amounts of our precious time and energy in order to accumulate material wealth, possessions and status in society. We feel that when we work hard, we can use the money that we earned to buy something, which will be ours for the rest of our lives, or at least until we want an upgrade.

This is the American Dream, and a universal vision of success - work hard, find a spouse, and eventually buy a nice house with a picket fence in the suburbs for your family to grow up in.

In many ways, these goals are truly noble and can bring immense satisfaction. לבנות בית בישראל, to build a home in Israel, is in itself a holy act and a big mitzvah. However, the Torah comes to remind us that we are here for a higher purpose, larger than ourselves. Today I am speaking about the specific Jewish role, but I believe there is a important, God-given role for all peoples to play. But this is a topic for another day.

Anyhow, God didn't bring us out of Egypt simply so we could dwell in an over-priced-white-picket-fenced-apartment in Jerusalem. We were brought here, and given the Torah, in order to build a model society. More than that, we are here to elevate ourselves and those around us to a higher level - even to bring the Messiah.

The Messiah - a difficult, and perhaps even uncomfortable subject for many of us. What exactly does it mean? What role can we possibly play in an event of such cosmic signifigance? Can I really believe in such a far-fetched idea?

Very clearly, I am not going to pretend the I have even the faintest clue as to the answers. However, I was once told a story by Rabbi James Maisels that gives a bit of insight into this great mystery. I'll try to reproduce it here.

There was once a great house of study in the old country. This yeshiva was located in a small town, and all the best students from the surrounding villages came to study there. The best teachers around taught there. The learning was passionate, deep, and spiritual. The students were engaged, excited, and always stayed after classes to learn more.

However, as the years dragged on, the atmosphere in the Bet Midrash began to lose some of it's electricity and passion. It wasn't that the teachers had dropped in quality - they hadn't. It wasn't that the students lost their energy - they hadn't. The building itself was in fine shape. Nonetheless, something was missing.

This truly vexed the Rosh Yeshiva, a most learned and compassionate man. One day, he called a meeting of all the students and teachers to talk see what could be done. They talked all day and all night, but no one could put a finger on what was the matter. Just as the morning sun was rising, one of the older teachers suddenly had an idea. He told the Rosh Yeshiva "you must visit the Rebbe of the forest - he will be able to help."

The teacher was referring to an ancient man who lived in the nearby forest outside of town. He lived alone, and hadn't been seen for many years. Even though he wasn't sure the Rebbe was even still alive, the Rosh Yeshiva took the suggestion and set out that very day, a Friday.

He walked and walked and walked, until eventually he came to an broken down old hut. He was afraid to go any further, but the Rebbe of the forest burst out of the door and greeted him excitedly. "It is so wonderful that you came to spend a Shabbat with me! Come on in!" He gave the Rosh Yeshiva a huge hug and bundled him inside the door.

That night, the pair prayed, sang, danced, and feasted on the chicken that the Forest Rebbe had prepared, having the feeling that a guest was coming to visit. The Rosh Yeshiva was having a great time, but his joy was not quite full. The question that he had come to ask lingered in the back of his head. Of course, the Forest Rebbe noted this, and as the night was coming to a close, asked the Rosh Yeshiva what was on his mind.

The Rosh Yeshiva, whose name was Shlomo, told his tale of woe, and how he had come for advice. The Forest Rebbe sat back in his simple wooden chair, listening attentively. After Shlomo finished, a great silence filled the room. "A most troubling problem indeed," said the Forest Rebbe. "I don't know what to tell you. Perhaps something will come to me later. Come, drink another glass of wine."

The next morning, the pair prayed the deepest morning prayers of Shlomo's life. Afterwards, they went for a long, beautifully peaceful walk in the woods. The Forest Rebbe told stories, and they sang and laughed. At an appropriate time, Shlomo asked if the Rebbe had thought of any solutions. "Nope," said the Rabbi. "Come, let's sing another song."

Finally the duo returned to the hut, ate lunch, drank wine, sang, studied, and danced some more. The afternoon passed very rapidly, and soon it was time for a final bite to eat and Havdalah. The Forest Rebbe lit the candle under the pale light of the moon. Shlomo was sad to see to see this wonderful Shabbat come to a close.

Shlomo gathered his possessions and said "Rebbe, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity. This Shabbat was truly magical, and you are an amazing teacher. However, before I go, I need to ask you one more time if you have thought of any suggestions for our yeshiva."

The Forest Rebbe paused. "Unfortunately, nothing has come to me." Shlomo's eyes fell to the ground. "However," continued the Rebbe, "I had a strange dream last night. I dreamt that someone in your yeshiva is the Messiah." With that, he wished Shlomo 'shavua tov' and sent him on his way.

All the way home, Shlomo turned this over and over in his mind. Who in the Yeshiva could possibly be the Messiah?

He thought of one exceptionally bright young man, Herschel. He always knew the right answer and asked the most insightful questions. 'Maybe it's Herschel,' thought Sholomo.

He then thought of Moshe, another student. Moshe was very quiet, and kept to himself. He tended to the vegetable garden and when he did speak, he only had nice things to say. 'Maybe it's Moshe,' thought Shlomo.

He then thought of an older teacher, Yosef. Yosef was a very learned man, but extremely humble, and always looked out for the younger students, making sure they felt comfortable and tutoring them long into the night. 'Maybe it's Yosef,' thought Shlomo.

He then had another thought. "Could it be? No way. Well, just maybe. Who knows?" He was thinking of himself.

Finally, he made it back to the Yeshiva. Everyone greeted him excitedly, chomping at the bit to hear the words of the legendary Forest Rebbe. Shlomo told them the story, that the Rabbi hadn't been able to come up with anything, but at the very end of the Shabbat, had told of his dream that someone in the Yeshiva was the messiah.

From that day on, the spirit of the Yeshiva returned, rose to new heights, and never again weakened in all its many years.

Emor אמור

אמור

This week's parsha, Emor, is filled with laws concerning the conduct of priests, (Cohenim). Since the Cohenim are bringing the sacrifices, and מקרבים, coming close to God, a stricter code of conduct is expected of them. Furthermore, the Cohen HaGadol, or High Priest, has even more restrictions.

וַיֹּאמֶר יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֶל מֹשֶׁה אֱמֹר אֶל הַכֹּהֲנִים בְּנֵי אַהֲרֹן וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם לְנֶפֶשׁ לֹא יִטַּמָּא בְּעַמָּיו:

"And the Lord said to Moses: Speak to the kohanim, the sons of Aaron, and say to them: Let none [of you] defile himself for a dead person among his people." (Lev 21:1)

כִּי אִם לִשְׁאֵרוֹ הַקָּרֹב אֵלָיו לְאִמּוֹ וּלְאָבִיו וְלִבְנוֹ וּלְבִתּוֹ וּלְאָחִיו:

"Except for his relative who is close to him, his mother, his father, his son, his daughter and his brother." (Lev 21:2)

Defiling in this context is understood to mean burying the dead. The law regarding the High Priest is different:

וְהַכֹּהֵן הַגָּדוֹל מֵאֶחָיו אֲשֶׁר יוּצַק עַל רֹאשׁוֹ שֶׁמֶן הַמִּשְׁחָה וּמִלֵּא אֶת יָדוֹ לִלְבֹּשׁ אֶת הַבְּגָדִים אֶת רֹאשׁוֹ לֹא יִפְרָע וּבְגָדָיו לֹא יִפְרֹם:

"And the kohen who is elevated above his brothers, upon whose head the anointment oil has been poured or who has been inaugurated to wear the garments, he shall not leave his hair unshorn or rend his garments." (Lev 21:10)

וְעַל כָּל נַפְשֹׁת מֵת לֹא יָבֹא לְאָבִיו וּלְאִמּוֹ לֹא יִטַּמָּא:

"And he shall not come upon any dead bodies; he shall not defile himself for his father or his mother."

This is a really harsh verse - the High Priest is so elevated that he cannot mourn the loss of his own mother and father, or even enter into the house where their bodies lie.

Furthermore, we find out later that part of his job is to comfort others in their time of need.

The Mishna has an interesting argument about this verse (Masechet Sanhedrin, Perek 2): Rabbi Meir interprets the above verse to mean:

מת לו מת - אינו יוצא אחר המתתה אלא, הן נכסין והוא נגלה, הו נגליו והוא נכסה, ויוצא עמהן על פתח העיר.

When a close relative of the High Priest dies, he doesn't go out with the mourners to follow the burial procession. Instead, he is hidden when they are exposed, and he is exposed when they are hidden. He goes with them until the entrance to the city.

In other words, he views the procession stealthily, by hiding around corners, etc., so no one sees him.

Rabbi Yehudah, who is known for very literal interpretation, disagrees. He opens his argument by quoting scripture - (Lev 21:12)

ומין המקדש לא יוצא

"He will not leave the sanctuary."

That is to say that the Priest stays in the Temple, and doesn't participate at all in the funeral.

Instead of direct participation, Rabbi Yehudah goes on to explain that the High Priest will be comforted by the community when someone close to him dies - אנו כפרתך

As usual, the Mishna doesn't tell us who is right, we only get these opposing views.

Both Rabbis want to respect both the letter of the law and it's spirit, as well as giving the much-afflicted High Priest a chance to mourn. Moreover, they are concerned with both the sanctity and dignity of the priest.

Regarding the priests ritual sanctity, touching, or even being in close proximity to a corpse will lead to the Cohen haGadol being in a impure state, which will temporarily prevent him from performing the sacrificial rights on behalf of the people. Bringing any kind of impurity into the temple is a grievous sin, so we must be extra vigilant in this regard.

The priests dignity would be affected because in ancient days, mourning was a very public practice. The prescribed rites, including making bald patches on the head, shaving the edges of the beard, or cutting one's flesh, could bring down the Cohen in the eyes of the people.

We are concerned about this even today. Certain acts by public leaders can be seen as "beneath their dignity," even if they would be totally ok for a normal person to do. For instance, French President Nicolas Sarkozy was berated in France for going out jogging in public, and President Obama has been recently ridiculed for appearing on a late night talk show. This idea is reasonable - we expect a higher standard of behavior from our leaders, the question is where to draw the line.

Getting back to the Mishnah, both Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Yehudah understand these concerns, but their argument encapsulates a very basic and important difference in the way to interpreret Halacha.

Rabbi Yehudah's solution, that the Cohen doesn't leave the sanctuary at all for mourning, strikes me as very classical. He keeps the letter of the law exactly as it is written, and adds some additional words that help "soften the blow" a little bit.

This reminds me of the old controversy surrounding the morning blessing "Thank God for not making me a woman." Obviously, many women, and some men as well, objected to this obvious sexism. As a result, many prayer books added an additional blessing for women only, to say "Thank God for making me according to his will."

To me, this is an ultimately unsatisfying solution, because it still leaves the original offensive blessing intact, and the new blessing is in itself still demeaning. However, many folks clearly couldn't bring themselves to change the original blessing, even though these words are not commanded in the Torah.

As we know, more liberal movements took a totally different tact, and changed the original blessing to "Thank God for making me in his image."

On the other hand, Rabbi Meir's opinion strikes me as inspired. He takes very seriously the emotional needs of the grieving priest, and wants to do everything in his power to allow him some catharsis.

After all, the priest will not become impure simply but witnessing the procession, so ritual concerns are not an issue. By stealthily watching the proceedings, he is not not brought down in the eyes of his people, but is still able to express some emotion, albeit privately.

I like Rabbi Meir's opinion so much because of the emphasis on empathy and helping the afflicted person - true Jewish values.

Since the destruction of the second temple, we have been a people without a priestly hierarchy. This fulfills the prophecy from scripture.

וְאַתֶּם תִּהְיוּ לִי מַמְלֶכֶת כֹּהֲנִים וְגוֹי קָדוֹשׁ

"And you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation." (Exodus 19:6)

In a certain sense, we are all priests today, in that we are each responsible for our own relationship to God - no one will להקריב, bring us closer. With this democratization comes risks and responsibilty. How are decisions made, who has the authority?

Today, it is OUR responsibility to see that decisions in our society, whether they be Halachic, political, legal, etc., are made with the most compassion and empathy possible.

I want to bless everyone here today with the power to take a stand for your beliefs and bring a little a bit more love into this world - we all can use it!

Acharei Mot / Kedoshim אחרי מות / קדושים

אחרי מות / קדושים

For the second week in a row, we read a double portion - Acharei Mot and Kedoshim. These two parshiot are filled with laws - the Yom Kippur ritual, sexual regulations, ethical obligations, agricultural laws, and more.

There is a lot to talk about, but given current events, one law in particular stands out as worthy of attention.

וְאֶת-זָכָר--לֹא תִשְׁכַּב, מִשְׁכְּבֵי אִשָּׁה:  תּוֹעֵבָה, הִוא.

"Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind; it is abomination." (Leviticus 17:22)

Taken on face value, it seems pretty clear. Male homosexuality is outlawed in the Torah.

If we look through the Five Books of Moses, the word תועבה , usually translated as abomination, appears in a few different contexts - including an idol made of silver and gold (Deut 7:26), the way that Egyptians viewed dining with Israelites (Genesis 43:42), and non-Kosher animals (Deut 13:3).

The thread that seems to connect all of the above is a mixing of things that the Bible thinks need to be kept apart - the work of humans hands vs. divine creation (idol worship), slaves vs. masters (in the case of Egyptian eating habits), kosher vs. non-kosher animals, and hetero vs. homosexuality.

In case we are not clear on the point, a verse from our second portion spells it out even clearer:

וְאִישׁ, אֲשֶׁר יִשְׁכַּב אֶת-זָכָר מִשְׁכְּבֵי אִשָּׁה--תּוֹעֵבָה עָשׂוּ, שְׁנֵיהֶם; מוֹת יוּמָתוּ, דְּמֵיהֶם בָּם

"And if a man lie with mankind, as with womankind, both of them have committed abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them."
Deut 20:13

Based on this "pshat" (simple, literal) level of interpretation, we can begin to understand some of the hostility religious fundamentalists of all kinds feel towards homosexuality. Of course, the Jewish understanding is quite a bit more nuanced. One of the defining features of Judaism is incredibly in-depth text study that looks beyond the obvious meaning and finds something else - think of Leviticus 24:19-20.

וְאִישׁ, כִּי-יִתֵּן מוּם בַּעֲמִיתוֹ--כַּאֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה, כֵּן יֵעָשֶׂה לּוֹ. שֶׁבֶר, תַּחַת שֶׁבֶר, עַיִן תַּחַת עַיִן, שֵׁן תַּחַת שֵׁן--כַּאֲשֶׁר יִתֵּן מוּם בָּאָדָם, כֵּן יִנָּתֶן בּוֹ

  "Anyone who maims another shall suffer the same injury in return: fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth; the injury inflicted is the injury to be suffered."

Again - simple meaning is obvious, if I chop off your hand, you do the same to me. However, our tradition doesn't interpret this literally - our sages tell us that the injured needs to repay (in money) the cost of the injured hand. The implications of this change in reading is hard to overemphasize, it's the difference between midieval barbarianism and the modern system of justice.

Getting back to our original topic, sexuality is an incredibly charged topic in our sources. Besides the Biblical prohibitions, the Rabbis placed a great deal of importance on these issues. On the holiest day of the year, Yom Kippur, we read exactly this portion - the atonement ritual in the morning and the sexual prohibitions in the afternoon. Repentance and sexuality and tied have been tied together deeply in our history - think of the cult of Baal, David and Baathseeba, etc.

Our parsha, Acharei Mot starts by talking about the death of Aaron's sons at the hand of God.

. וַיְדַבֵּר יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֶל מֹשֶׁה אַחֲרֵי מוֹת שְׁנֵי בְּנֵי אַהֲרֹן בְּקָרְבָתָם לִפְנֵי יְ־הֹוָ־ה וַיָּמֻתוּ:

And the Lord spoke to Moses after the death of Aaron's two sons, when they drew near before the Lord, and they died.

Note the language - they came close, לקרב, to God, and that is what they died.

In the introduction to the laws governing sexuality, we read

אִישׁ אִישׁ אֶל-כָּל-שְׁאֵר בְּשָׂרוֹ, לֹא תִקְרְבוּ לְגַלּוֹת עֶרְוָה:  אֲנִי, יְה-ה.

  None of you come close to any that is near of kin to him, to uncover their nakedness. I am the LORD.

"To come close" - the same language. The sexual act is perhaps the most intimate, and close, two human beings can become. Seeing that humans are created בצלם אלוקים, in the image of God, we are also coming close to God when we are intimate in this way. As we learn from Nadav and Avihu (Aaron's sons) we need to be very careful when we come close to God!

All of this leads us to the big news out of Machon Schechter, the Conservative Movement's Rabbinic Seminary in Israel, that they have reversed a long standing policy that kept homosexual men and woman from being ordained as rabbis through the school. This is a tidal wave in the Movement, and the fallout is just beginning.

To understand how big a shift Schechter made, we need to know where they were coming from. Here are two samples from Schechter's old Gender Policy, written by former Dr Einat Ramon, former Dean of the Schechter Rabbinical Saeminary.

"If we define “homosexual relations” so narrowly, thus allowing same-gender marriage, then morally we are bound to apply the DNR in all cases of sexual Halakhic, prohibitions (e.g., incest), as long as such relations are between two consenting adults."

She goes further: "Moreover, this breaking with Halakha for the benefit of homosexuals is unjustified and discriminatory towards the other groups for whom we do not break with Halakha, who commit less serious transgressions than forbidden sexual relations, such as profaning Shabbat in public, not eating kosher, and others."

Basically, Rabbi Ramon is saying that if we accept homosexuals as full members of the community, we are breaking Halacha and our whole approach to Jewish law goes out the window.

She is not alone in this belief. Of course, the Conservative Movement has years ago officially accepted a teshuvah written by Rabbis Dorff, Nevins and Reisner that basically gives homosexuals the same rights of anyone else in the Jewish community, including being ordained as Rabbis, although the teshuvah stops short of actually accepting the sexual act itself.

Accordingly, the American Conservative Seminaries, have long accepted homosexuals, but Schecheter was a hold out. The issue became especially trying when the American schools would send their students for the mandatory one-year of study in Israel. Schecheter was unable to tell their American counterparts that they would allow certain students to study there and others not, so all the Americans were admitted, however gay Israeli students were still barred. It got so bad that Ziegler School refused to send anyone to Schechter, so now their students study at the Conservative Yeshiva next door.

Now, all of that has changed - homosexuals will be officially accepted as students into the Rabbinic Seminary. Personally, I am very proud of this accomplishment, and I know that many good people have worked very hard and sacrificed much to reach this day.

Putting aside personal opinions however, we can be inspired as Conservative/Masorti Jews by the ultimate solution that Machon Schechter came up with, even if we are not necessarily enamored by the process. Under the new policy, each graduating student Rabbi will be able to select, from a pre-approved list, which Rabbis will give him/her the final examination and סמיכח, ordination.

There are many learned, dedicated, well-meaning folks at the Institute that don't Halachically agree with this policy and the direction that it takes the school in, but because of the way the policy is crafted, they will not be ostracized or forced to personally do anything they don't agree with.

Obviously the solution is not perfect, and not everyone will be happy. But, as a movement that prides itself on a pluraslitc, inclusive approach to Halachah, we should be proud and excited that the Israeli Rabbinical Seminary has found a way to uphold what many regard as an ethical obligation, all the while respecting the dissenting voices and staying within the bounds of Halachah.

In this world of polarized opinions and a overarching meta-narrative that views compromises as surrenders, may we also be blessed to remember how to disagree peaceably and still remain united - "אלה ואלה דברי אלוקים חיים" This and that are both the living words of God.