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.

Tazria/Metzora תצורע/מצורע

We read a double Torah portion this week, תזריע ומצורע , on one of the more nauseating topics in the Chumash - skin infections, their diagnosis and treatments.

Personally, I am glad that we read both of these portions this week - like a spoonful of gross-tasting medicine, it's better to take it down in one gulp and get it out of the way quickly!

Of course, like all the other parshiot in the Torah, deep meanings are found once we scratch below the surface (if you can forgive the turn of phrase!).

The basic procedure for skin infection is as a follows: A man notices he has a problem. He comes to the priest for a diagnosis. The priest has three options:

1. If the infection is not serious, he can declare the individual ritually pure and everything continues as normal.
2. If he is not sure whether or not the infection is serious enough to denote uncleanliness, he quarantines the infected individual, waits seven days and checks again.
3. He can declare the person unclean, .מצורע a In this case the stricken person must dwell outside the camp, remain unshaven, cover his entire body and call out "Unclean Unclean" wherever he goes.

Based on this very short synopsis, one could conclude the priests are basically performing the function of a doctor. Perhaps they are checking to make sure the infection is not contagious and will not spread to the other members of the camp.

Our sages makes this very clear that this is NOT the case. We are not dealing here with physical illnesses, we are taught that the מצורע is suffering from a spiritual ailment with heavenly origin.

Just what is this spiritual illness? By cross referencing the word צריע, our sages come up with a somewhat surprising answer.

From במדבר, the book of Numbers Chapter 11, Verse 35, we read of Miriam (and Aaron) speaking out against Moses because he married a Cushite woman. Afterwards, God is angry and punishes Miriam.

וְהֶעָנָן סָר מֵעַל הָאֹהֶל וְהִנֵּה מִרְיָם מְצֹרַעַת כַּשָּׁלֶג וַיִּפֶן אַהֲרֹן אֶל מִרְיָם וְהִנֵּה מְצֹרָעַת:

The cloud departed from above the Tent, and behold, Miriam was afflicted with tzara'ath, [as white] as snow. Then Aaron turned to Miriam and behold, she was afflicted with tzara'ath.

From this verse, we learn that Tazria is a punishment for Lashon Ha'ra - evil speech.

An interesting side note: In modern Hebrew, to call someone a black person "cushi" is extremely disrespectful. Not as bad as the English "n-word," but still not very nice at all.

Histrocially speaking however, the Cushites, probably a dark skinned tribe from Kush, aka Nubia near Ethiopia, were considered in a positive light. In Gematria כשית is equal to פַתמַרְאֶה , - beautiful in appearance. Furthermore, Rashi points out the doubling up of the phrase כשית לקח teaches us that Zipporah was both beautiful and pleasant, apparently two qualities that he did not think usually went together….

Anyhow, a midrash from Sifrei Numbers further explains the incident with Miriam::

Miriam speaks out against Moses because she knew that he had neglected his conjugal obligations. She saw that Zipporah, his wife, took no care regarding her personal appearance. Miriam said to her, "What is the matter with you that you neglect your appearance?" She replied, "Your brother does not mind." Thus Miriam knew, and she told it to her brother (Aaron), and they both spoke against Moses.

In some ways, we can understand Miriam's actions. Apart from any personal feelings she may have had about the matter, she was concerned that her brother Moses, being the leader of Am Yisrael, needs to set a good example for the people to follow. If Moses is not fulfilling his legal obligation of sleeping with his wife, this could lead to a insurrection among the people,

However justified her concerns, Miriam's actions are clearly problematic. She takes what she "learns" from Zipporah and goes to Aaron, not directly to Moses - we call this gossip.

Secondly, the information that she passes along is dubious at best. Three choice words from the above midrash tell the whole story - 'thus Miriam KNEW.'

Suspected? Perhaps. Inferred? Possibly. But KNEW? Miriam took one comment and had enough confidence to say with 100% surety the details of the very intimiate situation between Zipporah and Moses ?

I think this happens all the time in modern society - we see someone who is different than us and make a snap judgement about this person, quite frequently to the negative. More than that, we don't take the time to actually get to know the person, we are content to sit in judgement on something that we really know nothing about.

This is bad enough, but using words to pass this judgement on to others compounds the problem exponentially. In the words of our rabbis"A loose tongue is like an arrow. Once it is shot, there is no holding it back."

Rabbi Bradley Artson of the Ziegler School points out that 'the Midrash notes that five times, the word "Torah," teaching, is used to refer to 'tzara'at.' From this superfluous repetition, the sages derive that "one who utters evil reports is considered in violation of the entire five books of the Torah."

In our world, Lashon Ha'Ra has become extremely commonplace. We see it all the time in public discourse, entertainment, and hopefully not too often, in our personal lives.

Rabbi Adam Frank gave over a very nice teaching on this subject a while back. I'll paraphrase: If we see one of our Jewish friends about to take a bite out a pork sandwich, we are quite likely to confront the person. However, when we hear Lashon Ha'ra from a friend, do we stop them?

According to the Jewish Law, lashon ha'ra is a way worse violation than eating pork - yet we are more likely to let it slide by. This week's parsha comes to teach us that our priorities have gotten mixed up somewhere.

Unfortunately, us humans are constantly inclined to gossip. We can see this in the way that the most recent par'shi'ot are laid out:

Last week, we read of the death on Nadav and Avihu, when they brought "foreign" i.e. un-commanded sacrifices before the Lord.

The way that they died, and the whole event in general, was very strange and almost completely unprecedented. Thus, probably quite a tempting topic to gossip about - the topic of this week's parsha.

Next week, we read about Yom Kippur - where we ask for forgiveness.

In seems like this cycle - everyday life leading to gossip, and then needing to ask for forgiveness from others and from God was evident even back in the day.

However, just because human beings have certain tendencies and desires does not mean that we let ourselves off the hook. Quite the contrary - Judaism inspires us to raise ourselves up to a higher level and overcome these lower, animal instincts.

I want to bless everyone today to become increasingly aware of our own language and use our newly refound Passover freedom to become the kind of people we truly want to be.

Shemini / שמיני

Shemini

This week's Parshat HaShuvua, Shemini, occurs the week of Pesach. Amidst all the holiday preparations, and last-minute Hametz binges, it would be almost excusable to overlook this portion and focus on the big event at the end of the week.

However, I believe this Parsha comes to teach us exactly the opposite - don't get so lost in the big events of life and forgot to focus on what is really important - the way we live our lives on a day-to-day basis and the influence we have on those around us.

Before Lana and I were married this past summer, we received a lot of this sort of advice - especially from Jewish people. "Never forget that the ceremony is great and fun, but real life begins the day after." It sounded good at the time, but I am now beginning to understand just how right they were.

The name of this portion is שמיני - meaning Eighth. In this case, the eighth day, after the seven days that Aaron and his sons spent locked in the Temple preparing to take on God's commandments concerning the sacrifices and other ceremonies, and to greet God's presence, the Shechinah, which they hope will descend to the people.

The number seven is considered very special in Jewish tradition. A few well-known examples - seven days of God's creation and thus the week, seven candles in the Menorah of the Temple, and most relevant for us right now, seven days of Passover and Sukkot.

Starting this Friday, we will eat only unleavened bread, perhaps take time off work and concentrate on the seminal event in our people's history - the exodus from Egypt. So what happens on יום השמיני, the eight day? We get to eat pizza, life goes back to normal and that's the end of the story?

Our Parsha doesn't think this is the case. Chapter 9, Verse 2:

וַיֹּאמֶר אֶל אַהֲרֹן קַח לְךָ עֵגֶל בֶּן בָּקָר לְחַטָּאת וְאַיִל לְעֹלָה תְּמִימִם וְהַקְרֵב לִפְנֵי יְ־הֹוָ־ה:

And he (Moses) said to Aaron, "Take for yourself a bull calf as a sin offering, and a ram as a burnt offering, [both] unblemished, and bring [them] near before the Lord.

This is a huge moment - Aaron and his sons have been intensively training for seven days and they are finally let out. Moses tells Aaron to take a male calf and sacrifice it to atone for his sins. If it wasn't already clear, the fact that a calf is chosen tell us that Aaron needs to abone for one particular sin - the building of the Golden Calf in the desert such a short time ago.

Not only this - Aaron is also instructed to take, on behalf of the people, a goat as a sin offering as well a calf and a lamb for a burnt offering. Finally, he needs to make a מנחה, a meal offering.

Serious stuff. You would think that this unusually high amount of sacrificing would get started immediately, however Rashi points out something very interesting in Verse 17.

וַיַּקְרֵב אֶת הַמִּנְחָה וַיְמַלֵּא כַפּוֹ מִמֶּנָּה וַיַּקְטֵר עַל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ מִלְּבַד עֹלַת הַבֹּקֶר:

And he brought forward the meal offering, filled his palm with it, and caused it to [go up in] smoke on the altar, in addition to the morning burnt offering.

Rashi explains the phrase "in addition to the morning burnt offering" to mean: All these sacrifices Aaron offered up only after he had offered up the morning continual burnt offering.

In other words, the every day offerings need to be offered first, before the special offerings. We give precedence to our every day commandments and roles - they are not to be eclipsed by special occasions - even if we are atoning for perhaps the biggest sin in Jewish history and literally expecting the Schinah to descend!

There is a beautiful lesson here. In order to truly live up to our end of the Covenant, we need to live conscious Jewish lives every single minute of every single day, not just when there are special ceremonies and tasks to fulfill.

One way that we express צלם אלוקים, manifestation of God's image, is to try and make every moment the most conscious and meaningful as possible, and to elevate our daily life into something special and holy. Not an easy task!

In my mind, the timing of this week's parsha couldn't be better. It's a busy time - Jews all over the world are making shopping lists, cleaning their houses, selling their Hametz, etc. Obviously, this is wonderful - the Seder tradition is one the most powerful and compelling ceremonies that we have, and is great for bringing Jews together.

However, beyond not eating Hametz and remembering the incredible story, there is a deeper meaning to Passover that sometimes gets lost in all the 'hubbub.' In Hebrew, the word for Egypt is מצרים, coming from the word צר, meaning narrow. In this light, יציאת מצרים , literally meaning "Exodus from Egypt," is really a metaphor for "exiting from our narrow concepts of ourselves".

When we were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt, we saw life in a very narrow way - work, food, survival. After we left, we had freedom and limitless possibilities. Of course, our experience at Sinai served to put a cap on this freedom, and some of our actions suggest that total freedom may not be such a good thing after all.

The point is that we no longer saw the world in a narrow way - there was more to life than survival. We needed to choose HOW TO LIVE and how to fulfill our unique potential as humans.

To truly fulfill the meaning of the holiday, we should see ourselves in a different light afterwards - more grounded in out history, more connected with others and with God, who knows? The point is we need to change - simply eating matzah, however hard it is on the digestive tract, is not enough.

The point of Pesach is transformation. Like we learn from Parshat Shemini, it is the Eighth Day, the day AFTER, that is really the most important.

I wish everyone a Chag Sameach and Kashur, but more than that, a blessing of a transformative Pesach experience that helps to change our lives for the better.

Tzav / צו

צו

Just like with ויקרא last week, the opening verb of this week's portion cries out for our attention.

צַו אֶת אַהֲרֹן וְאֶת בָּנָיו לֵאמֹר זֹאת תּוֹרַת הָעֹלָה

Command Aaron and his sons, saying, This is the law of the burnt offering.

Tzav - command. If this was God speaking to Moses, we would barely notice. God commands Moses to do lots of things. In our portion however, Moses is doing the commanding - of his brother Aaron.

This is a pretty strong contradiction to our traditional way of understanding the relationship between God and People. Our Mitzvot, meaning commandments, not good deeds like I was taught in Hebrew school, come from God and God alone.

According to our covenant with God, it is our task to uphold them. When our sages talk about the "עול מלחות שמיים" - "yolk of the kingdom of heaven," they intentionally use the phrase yolk to signify us not being in control and our state of "commandedness" by God.

In the verse above, we apparently have a commandment from a man to another man. Does this mean that humans can have the same degree of authority over one another as God has over us? I don't think so - not a Jewish concept.

Of course, our trusty friend Rashi has an explanation: "The expression צַו always denotes urging [to promptly and meticulously fulfill a particular commandment] for the present and also for future generations. Rabbi Simeon taught: Scripture especially needs to urge [people to fulfill commandments,] where monetary loss is involved.

Rashi is saying two things here. First off, he thinks of צו less in the literal sense, and more as a דגש, an added emphasis. There is evidence for this from Numbers Chapter 34 Verse 1 and 2:

וַיְדַבֵּר יְהוָה, אֶל-מֹשֶׁה לֵּאמֹר.  ב צַו אֶת-בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל, וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם, כִּי-אַתֶּם בָּאִים, אֶל-הָאָרֶץ כְּנָעַן:  זֹאת הָאָרֶץ, אֲשֶׁר תִּפֹּל לָכֶם בְּנַחֲלָה, אֶרֶץ כְּנַעַן, לִגְבֻלֹתֶיהָ

The Lord spoke to Moses saying: Command the children of Israel and say to them, When you arrive in the land of Canaan, this is the land which shall fall to you as an inheritance, the land of Canaan according to its borders.

This is not a commandment at all. It is simply an important point that God wants Moses to make very clear to the people.

Rashi's second point, illustrated by Rabbi Simeon's quote, talks about the need to urge people especially strongly to do Mitzvot where monetary loss, or other uncomfortable sensations or events, are involved. Rashi is hinting that the upcoming mitzvah, which Moses is to command Aaron and his sons to do, might not be so pleasant. Sure enough - it's not. Vayikra Chapter 6, Verse 3:

.וְלָבַשׁ הַכֹּהֵן מִדּוֹ בַד וּמִכְנְסֵי בַד יִלְבַּשׁ עַל בְּשָׂרוֹ וְהֵרִים אֶת הַדֶּשֶׁן אֲשֶׁר תֹּאכַל הָאֵשׁ אֶת הָעֹלָה עַל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ וְשָׂמוֹ אֵצֶל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ:

"And the kohen shall put his linen tunic, and linen trousers on his flesh. And he shall lift out the ashes into which the fire has consumed the burnt offering upon the altar, and put them down next to the altar."

As someone who has cleaned out many a barbecue after roasting a turkey for Pesach and Thanksgiving, I assure you it is not a pretty picture. The ash can get mixed up with all sorts of grease and who-knows-what. No wonder the priest is commanded to change his clothes afterwards!

Additionally, this mitzvah is to be performed every morning, first thing in the morning. Perhaps God is worried most of the Cohenim will want to sleep in a little bit and let the other guy to this gooey work, so God makes sure the commandment is emphasized.

Turns out, the priests were way more than eager to take out the ashes in the morning. Rabbi Avi Weinstein shares a story from the Gamarra. I'll summarize:

'Originally whosoever desired to remove [the ashes from] the altar did so. If they were many, they would run and mount the ramp [of the altar] and he that came first within four cubits obtained the privilege.

It once happened that two [priests] were even as they ran to mount the ramp. One of them pushed his fellow who fell and broke his leg. When the court saw that they incurred danger, they ordained that the ashes of the altar be cleared only by a lottery.'

Apparently, the extra emphasis worked! What previously seemed like a disgusting and menial task turned into a great competition among the Cohenim!

The lottery is an interesting solution - now the Cohenim are probably waking up extra early and chomping at the bit to be the "lucky one" chosen to clean out the ashes..

This reminds me of a similar method we used at summer camp. Especially before the kids arrive and after they leave, there is a ton on manual labor to do. Organizing the kitchen and the cutlery, putting up giant platform tents, cleaning the bathrooms, etc. One of the most demanding tasks involved moving the heavy metal frames for the bunk beds, which were frequently rusted, all the way across the campus from the storage shed.

However, instead of complaining about our luck, and how we are getting paid about 25 cents an hour, we calculated, we actually had a great time doing it. How? In place of focusing on all the work yet to be done, we would say, out loud, "Awesome - we get to move another set of beds! What? The bed is rusted and needs to be dissembled and cleaned - what a stroke of luck!"

I know it sounds silly- but it worked. At first it seemed like a game, but after a while we really started to enjoy ourselves. As they say, EGE - enthusiasm generates enthusiasm.

Similarly, I once heard a great teaching about washing dishes. Unfortunately I don't remember who it was from - perhaps our very own Rabbi Frank.

Anyhow, I can look at washing dishes in one of two ways: As a obnoxious task that I have to do after every meal, or an opportunity to provide a safe eating environment for my family so they can absorb nutrition, grow, and succeed in life.

Worst case scenario is that we find ourselves debating whether or not this is merely a silly mind game while we are cleaning, and soon enough the work is done before we know it.

Our mental attitudes towards tasks play a huge part in the outcome of our endeavors.

All of us, myself included, can definitely learn to focus more on the positive and broadcast that energy to those around us. One might even say that to do otherwise is a disservice to those around us, because negative energy is even more contagious than it's opposite.

Even if we aren't really feeling the positive energy at the moment we can really on a classic technique - "fake it till you make it."

I want to bless everyone here today to see something, or someone, in a new light and bring positive energy to the world in a place where it wasn't before. We can all use it!

Vayikra / ויקרא

Vayikra

With this week's portion, and the beginning of a new book of the Bible, we enter into the densely detailed and slightly nauseating world of animal sacrifices.

As people in the 21st century, imagining the setting of a grand house of worship where we bring animals to be burned on an altar is not exactly an easy jump to make. This world seems so foreign and remote it is challenging to relate to in any meaningful way.

One way to get a grip on this issue is to focus on little details in the text that say a lot. For example, the very first phrase of our portion, and the book is Leviticus, is eye catching:

וַיִּקְרָא אֶל מֹשֶׁה וַיְדַבֵּר יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֵלָיו מֵאֹהֶל מוֹעֵד לֵאמֹר:

And He called to Moses, and the Lord spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting, saying...

We are used to different words to describe God speaking to Moses -
וידבר (spoke)
ויואמר (said)
ויצו. (commanded)

ויקרא , called, is less formal than the above. Perhaps now that God has revealed part of God's self to Moses on the mountain, God feels closer to Moses, and can relate to him in a different way.

This is also the same word that we find during the Kedushah section of the Amidah, referring to the Angles and how they called to each other, "וקרא זה אל זה ואמר"

It is as if G-d is letting Moses in on an intimate secret, after the bombastic announcement at Mt. Sinai. There is definitely an added degree of trust here - God is telling Moses what makes God happy in the physical, sensual world.

We read over and over again that the sacrifices provide a רֵיחַ נִיחוֹחַ, a pleasing fragrance to God.

In a way, this is similar to how we tell things to our loved ones that we would never tell to strangers. God lets God's guard down a little with more informal phrasing.

In fact, a very important aspect of the sacrifices is to increase the intimacy of our relationship to God, strange as that may seem. The Hebrew word for sacrifice, קררבן, comes from קרב or closeness.

This brings us to the second verse of the portion:

דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם, אָדָם כִּי יַקְרִיב מִכֶּם קָרְבָּן לַי־הֹוָ־ה, מִן הַבְּהֵמָה מִן הַבָּקָר וּמִן הַצֹּאן, תַּקְרִיבוּ אֶת קָרְבַּנְכֶם:

The English is a bit clunky here: "A man who shall bring near of you an offering to G‑d, from the beast, from the cattle and from the sheep, you shall bring close your offering . 

According to Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the verse does not say, “a man of you who shall bring near an offering,” but “a man who shall bring near of you an offering”—the offering brought is “of you.”

The offering that we are bringing is not some fancy trinket purchased on the way to the temple - rather it is a piece of our farm or our home - our livelihood.

There is great flexibility in what is allowed to be sacrificed. For an עולה offering, which is completely burnt on the alter and not consumed by man, one can bring a cow, sheep, goat or even a pair birds (turtle doves or young pigeons). For the minchah sacrifice, made up of something like high quality matzah meal, סולת, we can bring it in the form of a challah or wafers, or in a frying pan or a deep pot.

This goes along with the idea of creating closeness. God does not want a goat farmer to all of a sudden have to purchase a cow so he can sacrifice it. The sacrifice of something that is close to us, that we encounter in our daily lives, is much more meaningful than simply following a procedure that is the same for everyone.

In other words, there is great flexibility, within the system, for serving God in one's own way. This is an important teaching that we can bring with us today. We are all individuals, created by God with individual attributes, skills, personalities, hangups, etc.

We should embrace own individuality and use that as a vehicle for increasing God's presence in the world.

As we see from the sacrifices, God wants us to bring the most intimate and unique parts of ourselves to come closer to him.

Furthermore, we do not sacrifice anything with leaven or honey, symbolizing luxury and pleasure. These are surface elements - God wants the real thing that can only come from deep down inside all of us.

Because we are all created in God's image, yet totally unique, the way that I come closer to God categorically CAN NOT be exactly the same as the person next to me, even if we say exactly the same words during tefillah.

There are some in the Jewish world who believe that they have a monopoly on Jewish practice and halachah. To be a "Real Jew" one needs to follow exactly the practices that they have established. I am proud to be a part of the Conservative/Masorti Jewish Community, which is pluralistic and accepts the idea that different interpretations of Halacha are not necessarily contradictions, and that we should embrace this variety in our view of Judaism.

I want to bless everyone here today with the inspiration to find a new, unique and personal way to bring more holiness into this world and the perseverance to make it happen.

Vayakhel / Pekudei ויקהל / פקודי

Vayakhel / Pekudei

This week's parsha is most unusual. First off, we read two portions, וַיַּקְהֵל and פְקוּדֵי at the same time.

Why double up? The simple reason is that there are more Torah portions, 54, then Shabbats in a year, 51 or 52. Depending on the each year's configuration, there are also some Shabbatot that fall on Yom Tov, where we read special parshiot and not the usual weekly portion.

For example, Shabbat must fall at least once during Hol HaMoed Pesach and Sukkot, so right away we "lose" two weeks or regular Torah readings.

Some of the "doubled" parshiot have similar subject matter, and this week's parshiot are no exception. After the first three verses of Vay'ke'hel, all the focus is on Am Yisrael building the Mishkan, the traveling tabernacle. This brings us to another unusual aspect of this week's portions.

We have already read this stuff in Parshat Terumah, where God gives the instruction for building the Mishkan.

Why do we read this information twice? Isn't every word in the Torah supposed to be meaningful and unique?

Let's take a look at the distribution of themes in the Five Books of Moses.

Thirteen full chapters of the book Exodus are devoted to describing the creation of the Mishkan and the priestly garments. Contrast this with the one chapter describing the creation of the universe, and the three chapters describing the revelation at Mount Sinai. In fact, more time is spent on the details of the traveling temple than on the Exodus from Egypt, only eleven chapters!

What gives? I thought that what makes the Jewish G-d so special is a lack of physical being. We are commanded over and over again to avoid creating physical objects to worship. עבודת זרה, idol worship, is one the most serious sins in the Tanach. Yet here we are lavishing detail upon detail of a physical structure?

In trying to understand this puzzling phenomenon, I was helped immensely by the teachings of Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, (z"l), also known as the Lubavitcher Rebbe

Of course, "the Rebbe" was one of the more controversial Jewish leaders of his time, mainly because some of his followers think that he is/was the Messiah. If we can ignore the more fantastical and outlandish beliefs associated with certain fans of Rabbi Schneerson, and perhaps some of our own biases about the Chabad movement, we can learn a lot from this deeply profound and knowledgeable man, who gave so much of his life to helping others and building a stronger Jewish world.

According to Rabbi Schneerson, the Hassidic response to the ultimate question 'Why are we here?' can be summer up simply- "to make a home for God in the material world."

What exactly does this mean? - after all, are we not taught that God is everywhere, in everything

True, we cannot bring God into the world where God is already present. The difference is a matter of awareness - God's house is not always a home. A home is a place where you feel comfortable, accepted, one of the "chèvre." As living beings, when we walk around forgetting about our holy neshamas, and those of other people, God does not feel at home, even though God is present.

When we are selfish, thinking only of our own needs and wants, we forget that we were created for a higher purpose. When we recognize this, and connect with our own divinity, God feels at home.

Humans also have the power to transform physical objects from ordinary matter into a instrument for God. This is truly what is happening in building the Mishkan.

Schneershon himself says it best:

When we take a piece of leather and make a pair of tefillin out of it, when we take a dollar bill and give it to charity, when we employ our minds to study a chapter of Torah -- we are effecting such a transformation. In its initial state, the piece of leather proclaimed, "I exist"; now it says, "I exist to serve my Creator." A dollar in pocket says, "Greed is good"; in the charity box it says, "The purpose of life is not to receive, but to give." The human brain says, "Enrich thyself"; the brain studying Torah says, "Know thy G-d."

When God commands the Israelites to build God a temple, in the middle of the desert no less, I believe God is trying to teach us a difficult lesson. Material objects are not ends in themselves. In order to be holy people, we need to put these objects to holy use. Gold, Silver and Copper and fine linen are great in and of themselves - but God wants us to keep of all these objects in their proper perspective.

This is not an easy lesson - think of the Golden Calf. Am Yisrael was feeling abandoned by Moses and the direct connection to God that he represented. They wanted to use their material possessions that they had recently acquired in Egypt to create a new object to focus their spiritual energy on. So close - yet so far away.

True, the Israelites were using their material possessions for a higher purpose, but the possessions themselves had become the objects of worship. We are free to USE material objects as tools to help us get closer to God, but must never mistake the object for God itself.

In our modern world, our new Golden Calf is undoubtably money. People will do almost anything to get a little bit more than the next guy/gal. How many times have we read about the abuse of human beings, and even entire cultures, for a bit of material wealth? Our drive to make use of the Earth's resources to fuel our engines is threatening to destroy the very planet that we live on. How many people spend their entire lives in pursuit of more and more cash, forgetting about those around them, let alone God?

How de we as Jews relate to money? It's simple - Jewish tradition has lots and lots of rules about money, and Jews have been traditionally good at making lots and lots of it!

Seriously though, Judaism is not a religion of austerity and denial - we feel lucky when we can feed our love ones and even indulge in a bit of the pleasures of the material world (as long as we say a bracha over it). During Rosh Chodesh, we even pray for פרנשה טוהב" a good living.

At the same time that we realize the importance of money in allowing us to live successful, happy lives, we must also realize that money, just like the precious metals of the Israelites, is a tool to be used for the greater good, starting with our family and moving outwards toward the entire community of the world.

Perhaps the Torah emphasizes the exacting details of building the Temple precisely because it knew the great length to which Modern people would go to make money, and how lost we would become in the search for it.

I bless everyone hear today for success in the economic sphere, but even more importantly, the wisdom to use it in the best way possible.

Ki Ti'se כי תשא

It is said that the Jewish people are a people of memory. We cherish good memories, but even more so, almost fanatically remember bad events in our history.

We see these bad memories reflected in our customs, even at the happiest of times. We break a glass at the end of a wedding, and when building a new house, leave one small section incomplete.

This week's parsha, Ki Titze, exemplifies this tradition, as we recall the story of the Golden Calf - not one of our brighter moments. It is especially painful because this wound was totally self-inflicted, and occurred with such terrible timing. How could we lose faith in Moses and God so quickly after experiencing divine revelation?

Upon further investigation, the Golden Calf incident turns out to be just another example of seemingly bad event creating amazingly positive results further down the road.

First off, the Golden Calf incident provides Moses with an unprecedented opportunity to shine. True, in Egypt brought down the 10 plagues (with Aaron's help), engineered his people's escape and even split the Sea of Reeds. However, in all these cases, he was following God's direct orders, and not acting on his own accord.

In this week's Parsha, Moses takes it to a new level - starting with arguing with God and winning. God is threatening to destroy the entire Jewish people and make Moses that head of a new nation, but Moses isn't having any of it. He appeals to God's moral/parental sense - 'how could you do this to your people that you so recently brought out of Egypt', God's reputation - 'the Egyptians will say that you are cruel and evil,' and finally to the memory of God's covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

God is convinced and spares Jewish people. You could even say that Moses bests Abraham here, because God destroyed Sodom and Gemorrah despite Abraham's pleas.

Next up, Moses needs to make a strong statement to the people condemning their idolatrous behavior. So he takes matters into his own hands, and WITHOUT GOD's PERMISSION, breaks the tablets that God himself had written!

If this isn't chutzpah, I'm not sure what is. Moses is truly tempting fate - he knows that God is not in the best mood, to say the least, and now he goes and breaks his tablets?!? It's too bad we don't have leaders these days willing to take a tough stance with so much confidence.

Of course, it turns out that breaking the tablets worked out very well - we eventually received another set and there rest is history. Rashi even says that God gives his retro active approval to Moses's actions.

Chapter 34, Verse 1

. וַיֹּאמֶר יְ־הֹוָ־ה אֶל מֹשֶׁה פְּסָל לְךָ שְׁנֵי לֻחֹת אֲבָנִים כָּרִאשֹׁנִים וְכָתַבְתִּי עַל הַלֻּחֹת אֶת הַדְּבָרִים אֲשֶׁר הָיוּ עַל הַלֻּחֹת הָרִאשֹׁנִים אֲשֶׁר שִׁבַּרְתָּ:

And the Lord said to Moses: "Hew for yourself two stone tablets like the first ones. And I will inscribe upon the tablets the words that were on the first tablets, which you broke.  

Rashi concentrates on the last two words of this passage. In Hebrew - אשר שברת. . He says the word אשר is not necessary, and could have been written as ש שברת. . So what is the meaning of אשר in this sentence? Rashi says it should be read as אישור permission - God's permission to Moses.

Personally, I think this explanation is a stretch, because אשר is a very common word that frequently serves as a substitute for "that" in the exact same way as the above example- are we to find "permission" in every occurrence? Nonetheless, it is a very elegant observation.

More than that, our sages say that the second set of commandments actually contained something the first set did not - the Oral Law - Mishnah, Talmud and Aggadah. Because the people were ready to truly repent and come back to God, we received the ultimate expression on God's love, an eternal partnership in which we are constantly engaged in dialogue with the almighty - a Torah that we can take a part of.

The story of the Golden calf also teaches us another lesson - one that is more challenging, especially these days.

After destroying the Golden Calf, Moses calls out, saying, "Whoever is for the Lord, [let him come] to me!" And all the sons of Levi gathered around him.

וַיַּעֲמֹד מֹשֶׁה בְּשַׁעַר הַמַּחֲנֶה וַיֹּאמֶר מִי לַי־הֹוָ־ה אֵלָי וַיֵּאָסְפוּ אֵלָיו כָּל בְּנֵי לֵוִי:

He then instructed the Levis to take up their swords and kill the leaders of the rebellion. Again, Moses takes this action without consulting God. 3,000 people are killed.

This is eerily reminiscent of another incident in our people's history - albeit some 3,000 years later. In June 1948, the British Mandate was coming to an end. There was great excitement about the cruel British rule finally ending, but perhaps an even greater fear of the Arabs who could now attack with impunity. The nascent Jewish State, always outnumbered, faced an acute shortage of weapons. Against this worrisome backdrop , the "official" political leadership of the Jewish settlement, headed by David Ben-Gurion, was locked in a power and influence struggle with Menachem Begin's underground army, known as the Irgun.

The Altalena affair to this day generates an enormous amount of controversy, and it's possible to see it different ways. The bare bones facts are these - the Begin's Irgun had negotiated a large and sorely-needed arms shipment from France, that was set to arrive on a ship known as the Altalena.

There was disagreement on what would happen when the arms reached the shore. Begin claimed he would give them to Ben Gurion's Israel Defense Forces, but only after he outfitted his own troops, which were technically a part of the IDF. Additionally, there was concern that certain Irgun members were in fact planning a coup. In any case, they were not following IDF orders and wanted to unload the weapons their way.

Ben Gurion faced a devastating decision. He needed the guns, but no one could predict what would happen when the guns were taken off the ship- there was a very real possibility of civil war or a coup attempt breaking out if the Irgun were able to shift the balance of power with these arms.

After a series of warnings to not dock in the Irgun controlled Tel Aviv port, the IDF was ordered to fire on the Altalena. The ship was hit and sank. Six Irgun members were killed on the ship, and another 10 the beach. Begin barely escaped with his life.

The fallout of this incident was intense and bitter, but there was no mutiny in the ranks. This was at least partially due to Begin's legendary and unbreakable sense of patriotism and unity within the Jewish people. He later claimed "My greatest accomplishment was not retaliating and causing civil war."

Just like Moses in the desert, Ben Gurion was faced with a situation where he thought the only solution was violence. In both cases, the Jewish people ended up surviving intact, not withholding the loss of life.

These two events reinforce a difficult but crucial lesson - sometimes the situation is so dire that violence is the only possible response. Judaism is certainly not a pacifist religion.

Of course, this is a very slippery and dangerous slope. In addition to the many heroic and courageous examples of this kind of behavior, history is strewn with the stories of those who try to take God's will into their own hands and commit terrible atrocities. It is not always easy to draw the line - but we cannot ignore the fact that violence is sometimes necessary.

We are extremely lucky today live in a Jewish State with a strong army that is backed by a superpower. Precisely because of this, we must be extra careful when even calling for the use of violence in the media, let alone actually using it.

These days a lot of rhetoric is being thrown around - let us pray that our current conflicts can be resolved peacefully. May ours be the days when bloodshed cease.

via - aish.com

Te'tza'veh תצוה

This weeks parsha, תצוה details the instructions God gives to Moses about creating the priestly garments. Just like last week's parsha, the materials used are top of the line, and the instructions are very specific.

Reading over the portion, we get a pretty clear picture of the vestments. There is the אפוד - More or less a very fine smock, made of the finest Linen, and woven from gold, blue, purple, and scarlet. On the Ayfod's shoulder straps, we attach two stones - each stone engraved with the names of six of the tribes of Israel.

Over the אפוד hangs the חושן, a breastplate, made of gold. On the breastplate are 12 holes, which are filled with stones, arranged in four rows, three stones to a row. The twelve stones also correspond to the twelve tribes.

The חושן is attached to the אפוד via a blue cord, and anchored by golden rings to the shoulder straps of the אפוד.

Until now, everything is pretty clear. Here comes the curve ball:

Exodus, Chapter 27:30

וְנָתַתָּ אֶל חֹשֶׁן הַמִּשְׁפָּט אֶת הָאוּרִים וְאֶת הַתֻּמִּים וְהָיוּ עַל לֵב אַהֲרֹן בְּבֹאוֹ לִפְנֵי יְ־הֹוָ־ה וְנָשָׂא אַהֲרֹן אֶת מִשְׁפַּט בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל עַל לִבּוֹ לִפְנֵי יְ־הֹוָ־ה תָּמִיד:

You shall place the Urim and the Tummim into the choshen of judgment, so that they will be over Aaron's heart when he comes before the Lord, and Aaron will carry the judgment of the children of Israel over his heart before the Lord at all times.

Got it? All we have to do is add the Urim and Tumim and we can move on…

So just what are the Urim and Tumim? Don't expect an explanation in the next verse, which begins to describe the priestly robes. In fact, this is the only mention of the Urim and Tumim in the entire parsha, an abrupt change from the detailed descriptions of the other equipment.

The Urim and Tumim are very mysterious. Clearly, they have something to do with judgement, but no one seems to know for sure what they were. Of course, there are some very interesting ideas.

Rashi says that on the Urim and Tumim was written the full name of HaShem - and they would light up, מאיר, or מרתמם, perfect, the verdict that was given by the high priest.

Rashi brings a proof text from the book of Numbers. God tells Moses to present Joshua to the people, and bring him before the Priest Eleazar. Moses is to "bestow some of his magic upon him, so that all the congregation of the children of Israel will take heed.

Number 27:21: "He shall stand before Eleazar the kohen and seek [counsel from] him through the judgment of the Urim before the Lord."

From this verse, we learn the the Urim is a tool for the judgement of God to come forth. This is further backed up by a story from the book of Samuel.

The prophet Samuel, who had anointed Saul King of Israel, had died. The Philistine Army was massing and seemed ready to attack.

1st Samuel, 6:5: And Saul saw the camp of the Philistines. And he feared, and his heart trembled greatly. And Saul inquired of the Lord, and the Lord did not answer; neither by dreams, nor by the Urim, nor by the prophets.

We are quite familiar with two of the above ways for God to speak with humans - dreams (the "man" wrestling with Jacob and bestowing him the name Israel is a prime example) and prophets - Isaih, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, etc. This business about the Urim and Tumim, a very rare physical manifestation of God's presence, is truly a cause for curiosity.

The above biblical verses help us to understand the role that these mysterious objects played, but not their physical form or how exactly they were used. We are even in the dark about the meaning of the words themselves.

Rashi and other scholars think of אורים as as coming from אור, lights. תומים seems to be from the root ת.מ.מ meaning innocent or perfect - like תם, the simple child, or כבשים תממים, lambs without blemish that are used in the sacrifice.

Because of this, Urim and Tummim are translated as lights and perfections. This is the translation that Yale University must have been thinking of when they chose their logo - a picture of an open book with the Hebrew words אורים ותומים and the Latin phrase "Lux Et Veritas" - "Light and Truth."

Another question is why are the names plural? According to one source, this is a case of pluralis intensivus - words that are really singular but are pluralized to enhance their majesty. This makes sense if we are thinking of the items as a reflections of God's power - on Earth we see God as providing many different lights, not just one.

There is however, another possible translation, which may make more sense. אררים is a rare biblical Hebrew word that means "curses," and is very similar to אורים. Perhaps we are talking about a tool that tells the difference between guilty (cursed) or innocent?

In any case, it is safe to say that the Urim and Tummim are one of the parts of the Torah that we don't understand fully - just like we don't fully understand many of the events in our lives.

I know in my life, and probably in many of yours, things have happened that I immediately chalked up as terrible disappointments, but with the benefit of hindsight, turned out to be incredibly beneficial in ways that I never could have imagined. This phenomenon is familiar to us through many expressions - "everything happens for a reason," "when God closes a door he opens up a window," etc.

Just like previous events in our lives are over and we cannot do anything to change them, the Urim and Tumim are part of our Torah, even thought we may not understand exactly why/who/where/what, etc. All we can control is how we react to them - after all, who couldn't use a little perfection and light in their back pocket?