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.

The Nature of Things – Parshat Shoftim 5772

One of my favorite moments last year was visiting Natural Bridge Caverns with the sixth graders on their Texas trip.  As we climbed deeper into the caverns, the scenery became more and more beautiful.  We saw stalagmites and stalactites, drapes of deposits that looked like an intricately iced cake, and rock formations that looked like they belonged in a Dr. Seuss book.  In the midst of all of this beauty, we paused and said the brachah “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheniu melech haOlam, Oseh Ma’aseh Bereshit.”  Blessed are You, Adonai our God, king of the universe who does acts of creation.  We said these words to remind ourselves that this beauty was not made by our own hands, but by God, the master creator of the waters that carved the caverns that formed this magnificent space.
It’s easy to get caught up in the beauty of nature, whether it’s a rainbow, a lightening show, the first blossom on a tree, or the first fruit of the year.  If we are lucky, we find a second or two to admire the moment, but we often neglect to stop at all, let alone say the blessing to thank God for the world that we live in. 
Our parshah this week, parshat Shoftim, reminds us to stop and smell the roses or, more accurately, remember that what we see in our world and how we react to it expresses how we view ourselves and God.  While teaching about how we treat one another with respect and justice, the Torah turns to this law in chapter 16, verse 21 of the book of D’varim.  “You shall not plant for you an Asherah or tree of any kind near any altar for God you will make.”  OK, so we know that we can’t have a tree next to the bimah, but why?  The later commentaries go on to explain that placing the tree next to the bimah or near the Ark might lead an observer to think that we are worshipping the tree and not the tree’s creator. 
The Mei HaShiloach, a 19th century commentator, teaches that God is the creator of the natural world, but nature itself is not divine.  In other words, we may admire nature, but we are not to worship it.  Without a doubt, flora plays a role in our tradition; from Avraham planting trees near places he worshiped God to decorative flowers in the sanctuary on special occasions.  But to make nature the focus is to deify it, which is not a part of Judaism.
The text reminds us that though a walk in nature can be mind-clearing and refreshing, if we aren’t aware of the bigger picture, the master plan of creation and the giant world around us, we’re missing the point.  If we focus only on what the beauty itself, then we miss the opportunity to engage together in discussions of Torah and the greater good of our world. 
THIS TOO IS TORAH:  Have you ever visited a Biblical garden? These are cultivated collections of plants that are named in the Bible.  There are several in Israel and in the United States. What would you plant in your Biblical garden?

The First Day of School – Parshat Re’eh 5772

As many of you know, I love greeting families in the carpool line every morning.  Beginning my day seeing so many smiling (and sometimes sleepy) faces excited to come to school is a true pleasure.  And with this morning ritual come the morning reminders from both parents and teachers.  “Don’t forget your lunch.”  “Do you have your kippah on?”  “Tuck in your shirt.”  “Do you have a belt with you?”  “Remember to use your listening ears.”  The list goes on.  After a summer of different rules, it is important to take the time to remember the expectations of coming back to school. 
It is fitting that we read Parshat Re’eh on the first week of school.  Parshat Re’eh is a smorgasbord of laws, rituals, and reminders.  It reads like a parent drop-off list, reminding the Israelite people as we become a mature nation not to take someone else’s toys (religion), to eat only our own food (the laws of Kashrut), sharing is caring (taking care of the poor in our community), and to celebrate with our friends (holidays and our calendar).  Like a nervous parent, God gives this fledgling people reminders to ensure their success as they grow. 
Like the feeling of taking on a new set of classroom expectations, it can be overwhelming to receive all of these rules at once.  It can leave a child or adult feeling overwhelmed and unsure how to succeed.  So the Torah repeats these mitzvot many times, and that repetition makes it stick. 
In chapter 12, verse 8, our text states the ultimate guideline for success in a community.  “You shall not act at all as we now act here, every man as he pleases.”  If every person always does what is best for him and only for himself, then the community will fail to succeed.  Think of an unruly classroom with children screaming, running, taking from one another; in this space there is no cohesion or safety.  Instead, if we act according to the mitzvot, then we act with our own interest and the best interests of those around us in mind.  With a clear guide to living the Torah, or the expectations in the classroom, we can be sure to establish a community of growth, learning, and love. 
As our school year begins and we receive the expectations of the school and the classrooms, it is always important to remember that like the Torah, these guidelines were created to lead to success and growth of our greater community.  By reading these mitzvot over and over again, we stay in constant conversation with God, the rule giver, so we make sure they fit our lives today.  In the same way, by keeping in contact with your child’s teacher and school, we make sure that the lines of conversation are open and that our partnership works towards success.
THIS TOO IS TORAH: Parenting and behavior expert Wendy Mogul suggests that instead of endless lists of rules, we should set 6-7 expectations for behavior as general guidelines so our children are not overwhelmed.  Then, adding details and clarifications is possible because the student already knows the most basic expectations.  Clearly, the 613 laws in the Torah are not a comprehensive list of everything we encounter in today’s world. But with a basic grasp of what is expected of us, we’re more prepared to work, create, and adapt.