Teach Your Children – Parshat Ha’azinu 5773

One of my favorite pastimes is hearing stories about families and their ancestry.  When I was very young, I learned that we have the family tree on my maternal grandmother’s side dating back to 1492 and the Spanish Inquisition, when the name was changed to Auslander.  With that kind of history, there’s plenty to tell about my great-great-grandparents and how my family came to America.  I also take pride in knowing that my husband’s family owned the first kosher bakery in Dallas.  For me, knowing where I’ve come from helps me find my place in our world today.
I am not alone in my love of genealogy.  These days it seems that one of the most popular trends is tracing your genealogy back as far as you can go.  You have probably seen the genealogy.com ads that encourage you to find out where your grandparents or great-grandparents came from, what their occupation was, and where and when they entered the United States.  One of the most well attended sessions at LearningFest for the past two years has been the session that Meyer Denn leads on researching your genealogy.  It’s human nature to want to know where we’ve come from.
The Torah reminds us that family history is an important piece in completing the puzzle of our lives.  So many times the Torah teaches us that we do something because “you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”  While I wasn’t actually there, I’m sure my family knew what it was like to be strangers when they were ousted from Spain, a part of history which certainly helped determine that I would be here today to talk about it.  And I am most definitely fortunate to have had the opportunity to ask my grandparents about this history personally.
This week we read parshat Ha’azinu, Moshe’s final poem to the Israelite people.  In it, he reminds the people of God’s grace, compassion and loving leadership, while at the same time criticizing the Israelites for their lack of faith and understanding.  In this poem we read “Remember the days of old, Consider the years of ages past; Ask your father, he will inform you, Your elders, they will tell you.” As Moshe is moving towards his final farewell to the people, he implores them to ask their elders to clarify laws and to share their stories.
We often think of this mitzvah at Pesach when the story of the Israelites in Egypt is fresh in our mind, but Moshe and God in our parshah tell us that once a year is simply not enough.  In order for our people – and our families – to continue to move forward, we must teach the past.  We have an obligation to educate our children in Jewish history, traditions and observance so that they will share our love and passion.  In a world where we have access to so many stories and so much information, we depend on the past to enlighten their future.
THIS TOO IS TORAH: Graham Nash, who wrote the song “Teach Your Children,” was partly inspired by Jewish photographer Diane Arbus, who captured the iconic image “Child with Toy Hand Grenade in Central Park.”

Carpe Diem – Parshat Vayelech 5773

YOLO.  It took some context clues and hearing it a few times to figure out what these four letters stand for.  At the end of last year, I asked the students to share with me their favorite quotes, movies, books and songs.  At least half of the students cited this acronym as their favorite quote.  The frequent texter that I am, I’m familiar with LOL, TTFN, FWIW, but this one I had never seen.  In a great moment of enlightenment this summer, I figured it out.  “You only live once.”  It became famous as “YOLO” after the singer Drake (Jewish, BTW) wrote it into his song “The Motto” this past year.  While it seems teenagers are using this phrase to excuse or justify risky or inappropriate behavior, this phrase also highlights the importance of this time of year.
We are at Shabbat Shuva, the Shabbat between Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur, two of the “big days” in the Jewish year.  This time is set up as a time of reflection and repentance, often calling us to take into account the year that was and make changes for the year to come.  In doing so, we are able to see what we’ve done, where we might like to improve, and make the best of the time ahead.  Why?  YOLO.
It comes as no coincidence then that we also read about Moshe as he enters his final days as both the leader of the Israelite nation and as a living, breathing person.  Parshat Vayelech, which we read this Shabbat, describes the steps taken by Moshe as he finishes preparing the Israelites for the future.  Moshe knows that he has lived a full life, and sees these final moments as time to teach his Torah, teach the lessons and values that he could not have lived without.  Moshe reminds Joshua and the Israelites of the need to come together at least once a year and listen to the words of the Torah.  Moshe insists that it not just be the adults, but the children too who will have the experience of learning to live by the code of community.
In Moshe’s final days, his focus is on the life that he has lived and the lives that future Israelites will live.  He wants to ensure that he sends the message of living the Mitzvot with love and the idea of “YOLO” into the future for all who are a part of this community.
What does YOLO mean for us as we continue through this, one of our holiest times of the year?  You only live once, so we must make sure that we live our lives in a way that continues to build community, not destroy it, just as Moshe taught.  You only live once, so our lives should be filled with meaning and purpose, with bringing joy into the world.  You only live once, so instead of carrying on destructive behavior or a grudge from the last year, live life with passion, with reflection, and by holding onto only what really matters.
We welcomed in 5773 this week and know that this year holds with it the potential for greatness. Make this year the year that you consciously make an effort to live life to the fullest with your family, friends and community.  Don’t waste it . . . YOLO.
THIS TOO IS TORAH:  Drake may be the most recent famous Jew to support living in the moment, but it was Hillel who first suggested we seize the day. Im lo achshav, ay-matai. If not now, when?

The Facts of Life – Parshat Nitzavim 5772

“I hate you sometimes!”  Harsh words for a parent to hear, but certainly not unique to any particular family.  It could be an argument about anything, but clearly the child is unhappy with a decision that was made for her.  Despite what children may think, the decisions parents make aren’t simply to make children’s lives miserable.  Parents make decisions for their children just as their parents made decisions for them.  When you’re a baby, it might be something as mundane as what outfit you’ll be wearing or as significant as whether you’ll be a vegetarian or not.  As children grow, parents face decisions like what schools to attend and what values are important.  Parents decide whether or not to raise their children in a kosher home or keep Shabbat.  Parents make choices, and children learn to live with them, at least while they’re children. 

But it’s not just parents who make decisions for others. The fact is, some decisions affect only us and some affect those who come after us.  Parshat Nitzavim, our parsha this week, teaches us this lesson quite clearly.  It begins with God telling the Israelites about the covenant they are making with Him and how binding it is.  In chapter 29, verses 13-14 we read “And not with you alone will I make this covenant and this oath; but with him who stands here with us this day before the Lord our God, and also with him who is not here with us this day.”  This is the moment where God makes it clear that the covenant goes beyond those souls who were physically at Sinai.
Specifically, who are “those who are not here with us today?”  Many people read these words as those who physically or even mentally were not present at Sinai.  Others interpret this as the souls of every Jew who will ever live, meaning that all Jews souls were present at a Sinai moment.  However you look at it, this text is speaking about uniting us in covenant and oath with God and generations past and future. 
This covenant was an agreement to keep the mitzvot of the Torah, to follow the laws and remember our pact and connection to Torah.  We might ask, like a child who disagrees with a parent’s decision, “What right did our ancestors have to impose the obligations of the covenant on us?  Why do we have to feel bound by their actions?”  The answer is that those obligations were designed to make their lives and ours holier.  We shouldn’t be upset by the path our families have chosen to take if it brings us to goodness, health and happiness, rather we should be able to accept it. 
Too often we fantasize about what might have been had we been born otherwise, or what could have been if we had made a different decision.  This keeps us from living in the present.  We cannot change the past, nor can we predict the future.  We stand here today a product of our parents’ and grandparents’ decisions, and we move forward linked in covenant to continue to create holy communities based on love, respect and responsibility.
This Too is Torah:  Have you ever created a time capsule?  These collections of items are one way we can communicate to future generations. Many of them are buried below ground, while a few of them have been launched into space.  As a family think about what would go in your time capsule?  What do you think is most important to communicate to the future?

Inch by Inch – Parshat Ki Tavo 5772

Since Duncan and I have now lived in Dallas for just over two years, I’ve grown accustomed to Dallas life.  Most of the transition was easy to accept; our Jewish community is thriving, Tex-Mex food is delicious, and a two-mile round trip commute is fantastic.  The biggest difference coming from Los Angeles to Dallas is the idea of land ownership.  Owning a piece of land in LA is a dream, in Dallas it’s a reality.
Now that we are able to own a home, our dream is of starting a garden with our favorite vegetables.  At the moment, we’re proud of ourselves if we remember to water our backyard once a month.  But owning land is about more than having a house.  When you own land, it’s yours to take care of, whether it’s the land your house is on, the community garden you might be working in, or simply enjoying the gift of our earth.  We have a responsibility to the future generations to take care of it.
Parshat Ki Tavo, this week’s Torah portion, teaches the laws of bringing offerings to God, specifications for fruits and animals, blessings and curses that come into the land, and the mitzvahof giving tochechah, rebuke.   But before all of these laws, it teaches us the lesson of land ownership and responsibility.  In the first verse of the Parshah it states:  “And it shall be, when you come in to the land which the Lord your God gives you for an inheritance, and possess it, and live in it;” teaching us what our duty to the land is for our entire lives. 
First, the text teaches that the land is an inheritance, meaning that it comes to us from earlier generations and goes from us to the next generation.  While the text is speaking directly about the land of Israel, let’s broaden the conversation to our earth.  This means we should leave our land better than when we found it, creating a space that is inhabitable and enjoyable to the next generation. 
Next, the text tells us to possess the land.  Possession means making something your own.  Dogs mark their territory to show others that this space is taken.  Humans acquire lots, maintain lawns, and build structures.  Perhaps the Torah is also reminding us that we must take ownership over what happens to the land.  We must treat it with love and respect as we do our other possessions. 
Finally the text tells us to live in the land.  To live in the land means to enjoy it, to use it and to make the best of it.  Backyard gardens and community gardens are a growing trend (pun intended) because of benefits like cost savings and knowing where your food comes from.  People are focusing more on the distance between farm to table and whether the energy gained from the crop is greater than the energy used to grow it.  More than sustainability, there’s also the joy of cultivating something from seed to flower.
Judaism is all about inheritance in every sense.  We inherit the Torah from our parents and grandparents just as the Israelites did when they first received it.  We inherit traditions, from the smell of latkes frying to those favorite seats in the sanctuary.  And we inherit possessions, whether it’s money, land, or Zadie’s old Haggadah that still has his notes and dog-eared pages.  Just as the earth’s rich, vibrant land must be cherished and protected, Judaism’s rich, vibrant tradition must be passed on to survive.  The question is will you leave our land and our religion better than how you found it?
THIS TOO IS TORAH: I recently read The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan, which details the ins and outs of our current food system.  As I read the verse from this week’s parshah, Pollan’s words came to mind.  He posits that the dilemma we’re facing is one that we’ve made for ourselves by industrializing a food system to offer the same foods year-round and ultimately reducing sustainability.  He doesn’t offer easy answers to solving these problems, but he does remind us that we have a responsibility to do our part to sustain our earth, to take care of our land while it is in our possession so that it can be inherited and lived on by many generations in the future.

A Deal’s a Deal – Parshat Ki Tetzei 5772

“I promised myself I wouldn’t …”  It’s a phrase many of us have probably uttered more than once.  It is usually followed by a “but” and an excuse.  We make promises to ourselves and to others all the time.  During the first week of January, gyms are packed with those eager to fulfill their resolutions to work out more in the coming year, only to hit the wall mid-March and drop it all together.  At the beginning of a new school year, a child might make a promise to stay organized or work very hard, but by November life has caught up to her.  The locker is a disaster and homework is a struggle to get turned in. 
Promises are easy to make and hard to keep.  Not keeping them can result in anger at others, anger at ourselves, and worst of all, a loss of trust in others which can ruin important relationships.
We are nearing the beginning of a brand new Jewish year.  We have the opportunity to look at a future full of promise and possibility and decide what we’d like our year to look like.  But, if we make a promise we cannot keep, we might find ourselves disappointed, resentful, and feeling like a failure.  In just under a month, we will stand together at Yom Kippur and ask God to forgive those actions we shouldn’t have done, but if God is always forgiving us, do our promises hold any real meaning?
This week we read parshat Ki Tetzei, which discusses a variety of laws, including going to war, picking favorite children, how to treat captives and women, what to do with baby birds in a nest, and many more mitzvot.  In fact this parshah has more mitzvot in its words than any other singleparshah.  As these laws are given to us to help build a society, we are confronted about making promises.  In chapter 23, verses 22-24 we learn “When you make a vow to the Lord your God, do not put off fulfilling it, for the Lord your God will require it of you, and you will have incurred guilt; whereas you incur no guilt if you refrain from vowing. You must fulfill what has crossed your lips and perform what you have voluntarily vowed to the Lord your God, having made the promise with your mouth.”
Making a vow, according to our text, is voluntary.  No one is forcing you to promise God that you’ll go to shul more if God does “x” for you.  Likewise, no one is forcing you to make a promise to go to the gym at the beginning of the year.  We are reminded that our words are permanent; once they leave our mouths, they can never be taken back.  We have the choice to offer promises, and the responsibility to be realistic about what we can reasonably accomplish.  Because a vow is voluntary, once it’s said, it must be done.
The Torah goes on to teach that as long as a person keeps his vows, he will remain in God’s favor.  The same holds true for human beings.  So often our relationships are damaged because of broken promises and unmet expectations.  Bottom line: don’t say it if you don’t mean it.  And if you mean it, reap the satisfying rewards.  What a fulfilling feeling it is to actually use that gym membership, to stay on top of school projects, and to say, “I promised myself I wouldn’t … and I didn’t.”
THIS TOO IS TORAH: Too often, people view a separation between their religious life and their work life.  The Torah is the most basic guide to best business practices and human rights.  Remember that your children are watching you to gain clues on how to behave, think, believe.  Discuss with your children your beliefs, ask them about their own.  Spend one night every two weeks talking to each other about what is happening in the world and what it teaches us about how we should act.  I bet that within 5 minutes of reading the Torah portion of each week you will find at least 2 ways it relates to your professional life.  What a gift to share with your children.