For Making Me, Me

Our Torah portion this week, Toldot, is one of the most relatable for me, having taught Hebrew school for years of my life. It has even more meaning now as a parent. Children have the unique ability to push caregivers’ (and teachers’) buttons, especially in that wide age range between 2 and 18. I’ll admit that there were some moments in those early classroom days when I wondered why I ever thought I wanted to be a teacher. And I’m sure fellow parents can identify with the parenting moments that seem like test after test of our patience. It’s in these moments when I’m grateful to have a prayer I use for a reset. 

In Parshat Toldot Rebekah finds herself finally pregnant after wanting a child. It turns out she’s pregnant with twins who, even before they are fully formed human beings, test her nerves. She asks the question, as they quarrel inside her, “If this is so, why do I exist?” The answer is “Because they each have a purpose in our world.”

I take this response deeply to heart. Each human being has a purpose for which they were created. We learned a few chapters earlier in the story of creation that we humans were fashioned in God’s image, which means that each of us has a divine spark and purpose. The words used are “betzelem elohim,” fashioned in God’s image. 

In our morning prayers, we read the blessing “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haOlam she’asani b’tzalmo.” Blessed are You, Adonai our God, ruler of the universe, who made me in God’s image.

Many read this blessing as gratitude to God for creating us in the first place. I read this as an opportunity to remember that I was created in God’s image, but so was every other human. It is only when we see the humanity in all human beings that we’re able to open our hearts and minds to meaningful relationships. Even with the ones who push our buttons. 

The Blessing of Life

Some moments in life leave us speechless, often because there’s an intense emotion (or emotions) attached. The birth of a child, the death of a loved one, or a wonder of nature, just to name a few. It’s in these moments when I’m grateful to be Jewish because we have words and even full blessings that give us somewhere to turn when there’s nothing to say.

One of these blessings is the one we recite when receiving bad news, usually at the moment we learn of a death. This blessing is rooted in the Torah portion this week, Parshat Chayei Sarah. In this section of the Torah, both Sarah and Abraham die. When Sarah dies we see Abraham momentarily pause and then get straight to work with finding a burial spot for her, creating a family plot, and looking toward the future. Then at Abraham’s death, Isaac has married Rebekkah and it becomes clear that Abraham and Sarah’s faith will continue on.

In moments like this, we’re asked as Jews, before we move into action, to pause. We recite the phrase “Baruch dayan ha’emet.” “Blessed is the true judge.” This instruction comes from the Mishna, the corpus of Jewish text that was created based on Torah law once the Temple no longer stood in Jerusalem. The Mishna is inviting us to recognize that challenges, pain, suffering – these are also a part of life. When we say “Blessed is the true judge” in moments of hardship, we’re not blessing the suffering itself; we’re affirming our faith in God’s wisdom and justice, even when we cannot understand it.

Bless Those in Need of Healing

I’ve written before about my time in rabbinical school when I did a summer unit of Clinical Pastoral Education. Over that summer I worked 40-hour weeks in a level one trauma hospital. Each day I would do rounds of my assigned units and offer to pray for each patient. From what I observed, my colleagues of other faiths were easily able to access extemporaneous prayer, partly because they weren’t relying on a specific prayer for healing as we have in Judaism. However, I was regularly drawn to the words of our prayer for healing, the Misheberach L’cholim. These Hebrew words literally translate to: “To the one who blesses the sick.” 

It’s in this week’s parshah when the first blessing of the ill is offered, and we actually see several variations. This blessing in Parshat Vayera doesn’t look quite like it does today. In the Torah, the messengers of God come to visit Abraham as he’s healing from his circumcision. They model what it looks like to visit the sick. Following this experience we see Abraham bargain with God on behalf of the people of Sodom and Gemorrah; begging for an injunction to save their lives is also a prayer for healing. The text ends with Hagar begging for sustenance, its own form of healing, as she and Ishmael are banished from Abraham’s house, and then finally Abraham’s proclamation of presence at the binding of Isaac. 

Together these segments of text teach us that part of our work in community is to be in the blessing process with each other. We can show up so those in need of healing are not alone. We can pray, and we can also offer resources. We can send meals or participate in a Meal Train. Each of these acts and more are a part of the blessing of healing the sick. 

For more:

The Story Behind Debbie Friedman’s Beloved ‘Mi Sheberach’ Melody

Jewish Prayer for the Sick: Mi Sheberach

For Safe Travels

I can’t quite remember when, but sometime around 30 years ago my father made me a small business card with the traveler’s prayer on it. It was on laminated yellow cardstock and has resided in my wallet ever since, growing tattered over the years. At some point, it fell apart and Duncan, knowing how much it meant to me, made a new set for me. My attachment to this distressed and faded yellow card was as much about the fact that my father gave it to me as it was about the narrative of protection on our journeys.

This week we read Parshat Lech Lecha, where God famously beckons Abraham to travel from the only place he’s known as home to a new place that Abraham has never seen before. I can only imagine how terrifying this might have been, and yet Abraham agrees to the journey. Why? Because God promises that he will be a blessing.  

Whether it’s a short trip from your home to camp in the summer, or venturing out to explore the world, the traveler’s prayer can connect us to our hearts, and the grounding of home.  

If you’d like to print your very own copy of the traveler’s prayer, PJ Library offers a cut-and-fold version in English that’s easy to take along: https://pjlibrary.org/beyond-books/pjblog/december-2018/printable-travel-blessing

יְהִי רָצוֹן מִלְּפָנֶיךָ ה’ אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ וֵא-לֹהֵי אֲבוֹתֵינוּ, שֶׁתּוֹלִיכֵנוּ לְשָׁלוֹם וְתַצְעִידֵנוּ לְשָׁלוֹם. וְתִסְמְכֵנוּ לְשָׁלוֹם. וְתַדְרִיכֵנוּ לְשָׁלוֹם. וְתַגִּיעֵנוּ לִמְחוֹז חֶפְצֵנוּ לְחַיִּים וּלְשִֹמְחָה וּלְשָׁלוֹם וְתַצִּילֵנוּ מִכַּף כָּל אוֹיֵב וְאוֹרֵב וְלִסְטִים וְחַיּוֹת רָעוֹת בַּדֶּרֶךְ וּמִכָּל מִינֵי פֻּרְעָנִיּוֹת הַמִּתְרַגְּשׁוֹת לָבוֹא לָעוֹלָם וְתִשְׁלַח בְּרָכָה בְּכָל מַעֲשֵֹה יָדֵינוּ, וְתִתְּנֵנוּ לְחֵן וּלְחֶסֶד וּלְרַחֲמִים בְעֵינֶיךָ וּבְעֵינֵי כָל רוֹאֵינוּ וְתִשְׁמַע קוֹל תַּחֲנוּנֵינוּ. כִּי אֵ-ל שׁוֹמֵעַ תְּפִלָּה וְתַחֲנוּן אָתָּה: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’, שׁוֹמֵעַ תְּפִלָּה.

Recurring Covenant

Parshat Noach, our Torah portion this week, is famous for the two central accounts that take place: first, the flood of the earth to drown out those who were not righteous, second the Tower of Bavel and the subsequent spreading out of the nations and languages. These two narratives are bridged together by the expectations for humankind to behave in an honorable and righteous manner and the covenant established between God and the generations to come, symbolized by the rainbow. 

In our parshah, chapter 9 verses 12-16, the rainbow officially takes new meaning. The text states: “God further said, “This is the sign that I set for the covenant between Me and you, and every living creature with you, for all ages to come. I have set My bow in the clouds, and it shall serve as a sign of the covenant between Me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth, and the bow appears in the clouds, I will remember My covenant between Me and you and every living creature among all flesh, so that the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all humankind. When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures, all flesh that is on earth. That,” God said to Noah, “shall be the sign of the covenant that I have established between Me and all flesh that is on earth.” 

Rambam, the great medieval commentator Rabbi Moses ben Maimon, teaches that the rainbow is a sign of God’s covenant not to destroy the world again, a sign of peace. This sign is the only phenomenon that had already existed in the world that becomes invested with a new symbolic significance. The rainbow, in Hebrew keshet, represents all of the different shades and colors of our world bound together in a single instance. It stands as a reminder that while each of us has our differences, those differences should never push us apart. And just as importantly, it sets an example of how we should keep our promises to each other, as God did to us. 

When we see a rainbow, we are obligated to say the following brachah:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה אֱ לֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, זוֹכֵר הַבְּרִית, וְנֶאֱמָן בִּבְרִיתוֹ, וְקַיָּם בְּמַאֲמָרוֹ.

Blessed are you, Adonai our God, ruler of the world, who remembers the covenant and is faithful to it and stands by his word. 

Even today, every rainbow we see is a reminder of God’s relationship with humankind. More than that, when we take the time to take in the rainbow, to pause and remember that the covenant God made comes with expectations of humanity to treat one another with kavod, respect, we renew our covenant with God and create a kehillah kedosha, a holy community.