The 50 Year Itch – Parshat Behar Behukotai 5772

It seems like the campaigning starts earlier and earlier with every election. As soon as a politician is voted into office, the reelection campaign starts. This may be a sign of our 24/7 media access, an obsession with the power struggle, or simply the evolution of politics.  Although the era of the constant campaign doesn’t seem to help the ever more partisan landscape, it’s also reassuring to be reminded that no one person will have all the authority indefinitely.
For all its blemishes, the real beauty of a democratic society is that our country never really belongs to one person, and it’s never managed by the same person for more than eight years. It’s our built-in level that helps to restore balance.
This week we read a double portion, Behar-Behukotai, which focuses primarily on the laws of agriculture and land.  What makes this section of text unique is that it takes the notion of land ownership and farming and uses that to create a society in which no one group holds complete power forever.  We read about the 50-year land ownership cycle in which we are required to allow the land to rest every 7th year.  In the 50th year of the cycle, all land returns to its original owner.  Imagine a farmer who comes across bad times because of a draught or poor crop.  In order to sustain his family, he might sell off parts of his farm acre by acre.  After 10 years, he might have nothing left, and he might be evicted or have to find another way to make a living.  According to our Torah laws, in the 50th year, this farmer would receive back all his land and become his own landlord again. 
This law seeks to ensure that the circumstances of today do not completely limit your potential in future years.  They level the playing field and account for both good and bad times.  These laws also remind us that we are not the ultimate owners of our land, property, or destiny.  Rather, God is the ultimate creator.  The restoration of land to its original owner and the opportunity to start over serves to awaken our spiritual sense of unity in our community.  Ultimately, we may help someone out by purchasing their land to help them make ends meet, and we may still have to work harder to get where we want, but this week the Torah reminds us that our lot in life is up to us to figure out. 
What is the leveler in your life?  What gets you back on track?  Is it time with your family?   Prayer?  A good night’s sleep?  Find these moments and take advantage of them.  Hard times will come your way, that’s a given, but it’s up to you how you handle them.  You can let an unfortunate situation consume you or you can remember that life is a cycle, and pretty soon it will be time to elect a new attitude.
ללמוד  To Learn: ללמד To Teach: לשמור  To Keep  לעשות  To Do:  Take a rest.  Allow yourself one day out of every 7 to relax.  If we only rest once every seven years like the land, we will be over worked and unable to truly enjoy all that God has created for us.  By taking on this day of rest you will be better able to engage in the world around you.

Poker Face – Parshat Emor 5772

As a new rabbi, I am always looking for areas where I can improve my performance.  I often reflect, thinking about what I might do differently the next time I teach a lesson, give a d’var Torah, or offer advice.  One thing I’ve been working on is my poker face.  You might wonder why a rabbi would need a poker face. You see, I wear my heart on my sleeve, and my emotions often give me away.  But in rabbinical school, we were instructed to keep our emotions in check.  Who wants to see the rabbi cry at the wedding she’s officiating?  The problem is that for someone who tears up at Folgers commercials, keeping a straight face isn’t always easy.  When I am in a fantastic mood, my face lights up, and when I’m worried, it doesn’t take a mind reader to see it in my eyes.  So the question is where is the middle ground and what does the Torah have to say about public displays?
This week we read parshat Emor, which reminds us about the laws for purification of the priests, the holidays we are to celebrate throughout the year, and the ways in which we are to treat one another and animals.   The majority of these rituals are meant to be done in public, with the entire community a part of them.  To this day, we do not say the Barchu or mourner’s kaddish while praying alone because there is a certain power in experiencing these moments with a community.
Chapter 22, verses 31-32 teaches “Therefore shall you keep my commandments, and do them; I am the Lord. Neither shall you profane my holy name; but I will be hallowed among the people of Israel; I am the Lord who hallows you.”  These verses come at the end of a long section about how we should treat one another and live our lives.  Late 19th and early 20th century commentator David Tzvi Hoffman suggests that the public performance of a mitzvah not only benefits the one who performs it, but also affects those who see it.  Our actions model for others what appropriate behavior is and have the power to send positive or negative feelings towards others.
The sages teach in the Talmud that there is no greater achievement for a Jew than acting in a way that causes others to praise and respect the God of Israel and the ways of Torah.  Think about this the next time you hear someone saying mourner’s kaddish.  Consider the anger, the sadness, the loss that this person is feeling and the faith it takes to stand up and praise God.  When my father died four weeks to the day after my grandfather, saying kaddish was terribly painful.  At one moment I was a part of the congregation, and the next, their voices were all silent while I said those words to honor my father.  While my pain couldn’t be hidden, I also know that being a part of the community helped me to heal, and perhaps that public act helped in some way to strengthen someone else’s faith.
Sometimes a poker face is appropriate, and as a rabbi it can come in handy.  But remember that faith isn’t about hiding your emotions or pushing them away.  Faith is the recognition that there is holiness in every emotion and in every moment.
ללמוד  To Learn: ללמד  To Teach: לשמור  To Keep:  לעשות  To Do:  Parshat Emor details the laws of our holidays and the behaviors of our leaders.  The mitzvot about our Holidays lays out for us the value of time, the small moments and actions that when noticed can change the course of our days and years.  As we continue to count the Omer, these 7 weeks between Pesach and Shavuot, become aware of the value of each day.  Are you counting up to something, like we do for the Omer? Or are you counting down, away from the starting point?  Do you count the day when you’re finished with it, or when it just begins? 
Check out this wonderful website with a unique take on our parshah:http://midrashmanicures.com/

A Fine Line – Parshat Acharei Mot-Kedoshim 5772

As any parent or pet owner can attest, objects of temptation must be kept out of reach and probably out of sight as well.  When there is something we want and know we can’t have, there is often a greater sense of temptation to see how close we can get without getting caught or hurt.  A child might enjoy looking at the flame of a candle, but a few inches can mean the difference between enjoyment and a burned hand.  A child and a dog might have fun playing together, but one too many pulls on the dog’s tail can easily result in a scratch or bite. The question is do our relationships have similar boundaries and what are they?
This week we read a double parshah, Acharei Mot-Kedoshim.  Parshat Acharei Mot deals with what happens after Aaron’s sons have offered up strange fire to God and with forbidden relationships between human beings.  The structure of this section of text pushes us to look at our relationships with both God and others and see the boundaries and intimacies of each relationship.  Parshat Kedoshim deals with what is known as the “Holiness Code” that helps us to understand how we can walk in God’s ways and create a community of relationship and understanding.
Chapter 16, verse 1 of Vayikra states “And God spoke to Moshe, after the death of Aaron’s two sons, who came too close to the presence of God, and died.”  We learn earlier in the text that there are boundaries to how close the general public, and even the priests, are allowed to come to God.  There are boundaries and borders around Mount Sinai when God dwells there, and even Moshe never sees God face to face.  Nadav and Avihu, two of Aaron’s sons, are intrigued by the presence of God, and when it came time to make offerings, they overstepped the boundaries and were burned, literally. 
This text begs us to ask, what does it mean to be too close to God?  We know that we are not supposed to make idols or use God’s name in undesirable ways.  We’ve learned that we are created in God’s image, betzelem Elohim, which suggests that in certain ways, God is actually inside each of us.  Perhaps when we look at this story of Nadav and Avihu, it is a reminder that we can’t push boundaries or limits too far.  As we strive towards connection with the Divine, with our heritage, spirituality and religion, we must also remember that pushing too hard or too fast might lead to a spiritual death instead of spiritual growth.  Just as building our relationships with others takes time, energy and effort, so too building our relationship with God requires patience, humility and introspection. 
As we read the words of our Torah this week, let us continue to build our relationships with the Divine and with one another, but let us understand the small and steady steps necessary to ensure positive future growth.
ללמוד  To Learn: ללמד  To Teach: לשמור  To Keep:  לעשות  To Do:  Chapter 19 of sefer Vayikra, the book of Leviticus details the laws of how we are to deal with one another.  Read through thesemitzvot and challenge yourself and/or your family to pick one to focus on for the coming week.  See how this changes the way you view others, yourself and the world around you.

Body of Work – Tazria Metzor 5772

As a little girl, all I wanted was to have my ears pierced.  My father did not want his little girl to go about putting holes in her body.  He was determined that I would not get my ears pierced until I was 16, although why 16 was the age I’ll never know.  My dad would tell me that I was perfect just the way I was, or “if God wanted you to have pierced ears, you would have been born that way.”  All I knew was that I wanted pierced ears, and the glory of choosing my earrings to go with my outfit.  Ultimately, we compromised on the age, but my father’s point was that my body was pure and just the way that God had created me to be.
It is easy in today’s world to pick ourselves apart, to find elements of our physical being that we do not like, or that we wish could be different.  You can’t go a day without hearing about a new “cleanse” to rid your body of toxins.  We can wear contacts to change our eye color, heels to change our height; but our physical being remains a gift from God.  The Torah teaches that both our buildings and our bodies have the ability to be purified and should be kept sacred as places for God.  As we read Tazria-Metzora, the double Torah portions for this week, we are reminded of this fact. 
The text of these parshiyot tell us of the laws for the purification of both our homes and our bodies after disease or death has occurred.  The laws remind us that our bodies and our places of resident need to be treated with respect.  We also have the obligation to help one another to maintain healthy living and to support one another when we find ourselves when we find impurities.  While human nature tends to lean towards picking ourselves apart based on what we wish we could change, the Torah reminds us that what is seen as an “impurity” by our eyes is seen as a “tabernacle,” a holy space by God. 
The medieval commentator Abarvanel picks up on chapter 15, verse 31, which states “Thus shall you separate the people of Israel from their uncleanness; that they die not in their uncleanness, when they defile my Tabernacle that is among them.” First and foremost, the words “my Tabernacle” can also refer to the human body.  Additionally, Abarvanel understands this verse as a sign that even when the Israelites are impure, even when we find ourselves feeling “less than,” we know that God’s presence is found among us. 
This way of thinking forces us to see ourselves as created in God’s image and helps us to see that our bodies are indeed on loan to us from God.  While it is cliché to say “your body is a temple,” it is in fact true that the divine spark that dwells within each of us requires that we look at ourselves with forgiving eyes.  May we help one another to find the spark of the divine within us and see the beauty of our individuality. 
ללמוד  To Learnללמד  To Teach: לשמור  To Keep:  לעשות  To Do: These parshiyot link the feeling of being outcast because of illness or difference with the punishment for gossiping.  Both being ill and gossiping can alienate you from others.  In Perkei Avot 2:5, Hillel teaches: Do not separate yourself from within the community; and do not be sure of yourself until the day of your death; do not judge your fellow until you’ve been in his or her place… Hillel reminds us that we have an obligation to reach out to others and include them in our community, and to push past our instinct to judge.  Instead, we must strive to remember that our words and actions affect others whether we can physically see it or not.

Speechless – Parshat Shemini 5772

Nineteenth century composer Claude Debussy, whose works are still used today in everything fromOcean’s Eleven to the new 90210, said, “Music is the space between the notes.”  Silence is so much more than simply not talking, as we learn this week.
This week we read parshat Shemini, which details priestly instructions, including the prohibition from drinking while on the job and the designations for various animals to be considered pure and impure.  But somewhat hidden near the beginning is Aaron’s curious reaction to the deaths of his two eldest sons, Nadav and Avihu.  Although the text goes on to discuss what will happen to his sons’ bodies and how the priests are forbidden from the same mourning rituals as the rest of the people, only two words are used to describe Aaron’s reaction to losing two children: vayidom Aharon.  Aaron was still.  Aaron was silent.
It’s at the installment of the priests as the leaders of the Jewish people where Aaron’s sons make the unfortunate decision to go beyond the celebration and sacrifice that God has commanded. And for that, Nadav and Avihu die.  But what about Aaron?  Certainly after the death of a loved one, especially children, emotions can take you by surprise.  But Aaron is left speechless, and we are left to figure out why.  Many commentators suggest that the silence might have been either in protest of God’s decision, in acceptance of this fate, or perhaps the anguish was too much for words. 
Or maybe Aaron is silent because he has learned there is no better way to take a stand and let his feelings be known than by the stillness of silence.  In parshat Ki Tissa when the people wanted a new vision of God, Aaron jumped into action, which ultimately left him and the nation in a heap of trouble.  And perhaps Aaron saw Moshe’s rage when he descended from the mountain and knew that immediate reaction would lead to regret.
Aaron’s silence could simply be a deep breath, a pause to take in the situation; a moment to think before he speaks, so that his intention would match his actions.  We find Aaron lost in the deepest of thoughts in a moment of intense emotion.  The text, instead of dwelling on this moment, moves forward, giving Aaron the time to breathe and organize his thoughts and emotions.  The power in this moment of silence allows for the reaction to be true, honest and uninterrupted.  Even though he cannot mourn as others do, Aaron, in a sense, has the space to mourn. 
What is the value of silence?  Silence is not necessarily the absence of sound, but perhaps the presence of power and purpose.  A quiet moment can result in new clarity or an opportunity for heightened concentration.  As we experience life and the ups and downs of learning, we must remember the value of silence and embrace moments of thought and reflection as those moments can also be moments of great strength. 
ללמוד  To Learnללמד  To Teach: לשמור  To Keep:  לעשות  To Do: Chapter 11 of the book of Vayikra details the rules of eating Kosher animals and Kosher slaughter.  Our parshah reminds us that maintaining boundaries, no matter how rigid or odd they might seem, helps us to lead a focused and purpose-filled life.  Keeping Kosher is more than just limitations or rules on what we eat.  This act requires us to have intention with every bite of food we eat, and to maintain awareness of our place in the food chain and our responsibility to God.  Take out your Humash, and read chapter 11.  Perhaps the next “diet trend” might be mindful eating, because what we put in our bodies matters as we work together to become our kehilah kedoshah, our holy community.