Don’t Just Sit There, Do Something – Parshat Beshalach 5773

I can tell when students aren’t really in the mood to tackle the learning at hand.  Distractions and tangents happen on occasion, and the students know I have a soft spot for encouraging and answering their questions about Judaism and religion.  The “why” questions are the exception and often my biggest challenge.  The problem comes when we have specific material to cover, and when one “why” question is asked, I can be sure ten more are on the way.  It’s inevitable that “why” questions lead to more questions, not to satisfactory answers.  If I’m feeling particularly creative, I’ll find a way to tie the answer to a why question back to what we’re learning, even if indirectly.  Ultimately, I want the students to understand that asking will only get them so far; eventually they need to take on the responsibility of doing.
This week’s parshahparshat Beshalach, begins the Israelites’ journey from the land of Egypt to their own land and their destiny.  We find a tired and hungry people, wanting to take more than they should when God provides manna, and a thirsty people when the water does not meet their standards.  Exodus is a roller-coaster of emotions; the Israelites are excited one minute and disappointed the next.  They long for their time in Egypt where slavery was harsh, but simple and predictable. 
On the third day of their journey, after the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea, the Israelites are thirsty, having had no fresh water since they left.  When they finally find a place with water, they are bitterly disappointed to find that the place is called “marah” (bitter) and that the water lived up to the name.  Frustrated, the Israelite people demand Moshe to find them water.  And Moshe, equally frustrated, calls out to God. 
The text explains that God tells Moshe to throw a piece of wood into the water, and it will be sweet.  However, a midrash explains the interaction differently.  The midrash envisions Moses asking God, “Why did You create brackish water in Your world, a liquid that serves no purpose?” God replies, “Instead of asking philosophical questions, do something to make the bitter waters sweet.”  Do something.  Take action to solve the problem.
The principles of activism have always played a large role in what makes us human, and we live in an age where the message of acting for a cause is prevalent.  We’ve seen it in the campaign to “Get out the vote,” the Occupy movement, and elsewhere.  We take a stand for our beliefs by writing letters to our representatives, boycotting or supporting certain businesses, and raising money for organizations.  Asking why is the first step, but we don’t just ask why.  We’ve learned we have to take action to solve the problem.
In parshat Beshalach, Moshe demonstrates the power of action.  The waters could not become sweet on their own; they needed a catalyst for change.  So too, we learn that our questions help us identify the space for change, but only our actions can take what’s bitter and make it sweet.
THIS TOO IS TORAH: “There are those who look at things the way they are, and ask why… I dream of things that never were, and ask why not?”  Do you ask why things are the way they are? Or, like Robert Kennedy, do you dream big and ask why not? Is there merit to both?

Child’s Play – Parshat Bo 5773

People often look at me like I’m nuts when I tell them that I love the week I spend traveling through Texas on a bus with 20-30 6th graders.  As most adults can attest, traveling with children for any distance can be a trying experience.  “Are we there yet?” “I need to go to the bathroom.” “Are we there yet?”  And on a bus there are the every-five-minute reminders to sit down, turn around, stop yelling, and stay two per row.  On the other hand, traveling with children can also give you a unique perspective on the world you’re traveling.
The Israelites are a traveling people beginning with our parshah this week, Bo.  In parshat Bo, the Israelites are steps away from leaving Egypt.  Pharaoh refuses again to allow the Israelites to leave, and each of the three refusals brings with it the three final plagues.  The narrative continues with the procedures for leaving Egypt by putting the lamb’s blood on the doorpost, packing up, and then celebrating Passover in future generations.  As Pharaoh is deciding whether to let the Israelites go or not, he asks many questions.  “What will you be doing in the wilderness?  How will you live?”  And, in chapter 10, verse 8, Pharaoh asks, “Who are the ones to go?” Moshe responds “We will all go, young and old: we will go with our sons and daughters, our flocks and our herds…”
Pharaoh’s response does not disappoint: “The Lord be with you the same as I mean to let your children go with you! Clearly, you are bent on mischief.”  You can almost hear the laughter that must have accompanied this line.  Moshe seemed crazy, wanting to go out into the barren desert without the stability of city life, for an unknown period of time with all of those children. 
Modern Torah commentators also questioned this inclusion of children.  The verse would have been clear had it just stated that everyone was going to go; why did Moshe need to add “young and old”?  One commentator shared that it’s “because no celebration is complete without children.”  This road-trip was not your average trip; it was a journey, a celebration of freedom.  While the journey might have involved more mischief, pit stops, or questions, it was meant to celebrate the future, the future embodied in the children.
Too often we become like Pharaoh and immediately see the negative of a situation, and that blinds us to the beauty of what we are about to experience.  Children view the world through unbiased and clear lenses.  Even though participation might result in a few extra questions to answer, or even a headache at the end of the trip, nothing can compare to seeing the joy, wonder, and awe on a child’s face when experiencing something new for the first time. 
THIS TOO IS TORAH: Many of our holiday traditions have become specifically children oriented: dreidel, the four questions, the afikomen, the flags on Simchat Torah. As parents (or older siblings of younger children) what differences do you notice between the way young children celebrate and understand holidays and the way adults do?

Free to be Me – Parshat Vaera 5773

There are many fallacies about the life of an educator, but perhaps the biggest one is that we get the summers off, essentially ten months of working and two months of not working.  At the end of every school year, someone asks me what I’m doing with my two months of summer away from school,  and then I get a surprised look when I explain that I spend most of that time getting ready for the next school year.  While we do have vacations, shorter hours, and more flexibility, the time spent not teaching is really meant to do all of the other work that sets up the next year’s classes for success.  The “freedom” of summer comes with responsibility.  The same is true with growing up.  I remember wanting to be in charge of my own life:  bedtime, clothes, food, and all that came with moving out of my parents’ house.  But, as I found out when I became an adult, that freedom came with the obligation to pay bills, grocery shop, and clean for myself.  We sometimes feel bound by our current situation, only to realize that the freedom we desire brings with it restrictions of its own that just might not have been visible to us before.
This week we read parshat Vaera, the second portion of the book of Shemot (Exodus).  The Israelites are deep into their slavery in Egypt, working for Pharaoh, having decrees levied on them daily about how much work they must do, how to family plan, and the like.  Moses has become the leader of the Israelites and is now pressed by God to stand up to Pharaoh, the one in whose house he was raised, and ask for freedom for himself and the Israelite nation.  God partners with Moshe and Aaron to send the first seven plagues and toy with Pharaoh’s heart.  This parshah has Pharaoh dangling the carrot of freedom before the Israelites, only to snatch it away as they attempt to grasp it. 
As the story unfolds, it is striking the way in which Moshe asks for freedom.  In chapter 7, verse 16, Moshe is to go to Pharaoh and ask if the Israelites can leave.  The words he is to use are “Let My people go that they may worship Me.”  We often only hear the first section of this phrase, “Let My people go,” which is simple and straightforward, but the Torah text, here and throughout theparshah, connects freedom with an action.  God connects freedom with worship, and ultimately, the responsibility of Torah.  Pharaoh later agrees to allow the Israelites to go so they can sacrifice to and worship God. 
In our parshah we learn that freedom is not the release from all obligations; rather, freedom is the ability to act for something.  The Israelites’ freedom was more than release from bondage; it provided the opportunity to serve God in the ways they were commanded.  So too, our freedom today does not allow us to sit back and do nothing, but to stand up and act.  Freedom demands that we take advantage of our opportunities.
While it may have sounded nice to the teenage me to have complete freedom over my life, I know now that freedom from my teenage years means the necessity of bill paying.  While it would be nice to have an entire summer of doing nothing, I know that the time is better spent preparing for the coming year and focusing my attention on some of the personal things I may have neglected during the year. 
As we begin 2013, let’s remember to embrace the responsibility of Torah, which is not only the core of what we read in Shemot, but our entire heritage.
THIS TOO IS TORAH: John F. Kennedy once said that Israel “honors the sword of freedom.” What are some ways in which you honor your freedom both Jewishly and secularly?