Be Our Guest – Sukkot 5772

Emily Post, the guru of entertaining and etiquette, wrote “The joy of joys is the person of light but unmalicious humor. You will, if you are wise, do everything you can to make him prefer your house and your table to any other; for where he is, the successful party is also.”  Successful entertaining isn’t easy.  There’s so much to consider: how the house will look, how the personalities of the guests will blend, what foods will be served (with which allergies avoided), the logistics of cleanup, and the list goes on. 
Especially with all of the holidays in our tradition, it comes as no surprise that welcoming guests,Hachnasat Orchim, is a Jewish value, and its roots go back all the way to Avraham and Sarah welcoming the messengers to their tent.  We welcome guests to our home as a sign of openness and blessing.  The Talmud even teaches in Brachot that the guests have an obligation to bless their hosts.  The festival of Sukkot, which is now upon us, is a holiday of welcoming guests to join us in our open and temporary dwellings, though the logistics are a bit out of the ordinary. 
Like other holidays, we have blessings for the wine, the challah, and lighting the candles.  But we are also commanded during this time to sit – leyshev – in the sukkah, the temporary hut, outdoors, away from the comfortable couch in whatever weather we might have at the time.  Sukkot is also unique in that before we recite Kiddush, we insert a special prayer that invites heavenly guests to join us on this day.  These guests are called the Ushpizin.
The Ushpizin come from the central text of Jewish Mysticism known as the Zohar, and asks us to consider inviting, along with our living guests, seven “heavenly” guests: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Aaron and David.  Modern traditions also include inviting the women, or Ushpizot: Sarah, Rebecca, Leah, Rachel, Miriam, Deborah and Ruth.  These guests are primarily meant to remind us of our history and the great deeds that each of these ancestors took upon themselves, but they remind us of so much more.  They recall our covenant with God and implore us not only to link one generation to the next, but to help us see the truth of who we are as human beings and remember the model set before us for righteousness and leadership. 
Sukkot certainly has more themes than I’ve mentioned here, but the one that really speaks to me this year is the sense of community at its core.  We are commanded to not only sit in our temporary huts, but to share our culture, traditions and practice with others.  Inviting guests to our home offers us an opportunity to not only fulfill a Mitzvah, but to share culture and learn about one another.  In a similar way, building a community is about sitting together and learning from one another.  Sukkot gives us a moment in time when our brick and mortar boundaries are gone, and our minds and hearts are open to learn and to share. 
ללמוד  To Learn: ללמד  To Teach: Each night of Sukkot have a discussion with your family, whether inside the Sukkah or just outside in your yard, about the theme related to the Ushpizin of the evening.   (Steinberg, Paul.  Celebrating the Jewish Year: The Fall Holidays.  2007)

(Sample)
Evening
Ushpizin
Ushpizot
Theme
First
Abraham
Sarah
Parents of Faith
Second
Isaac
Rebecca
Transmitters of Legacy and Foundation
Third
Jacob
Leah
Progenitors of Israel
Fourth
Joseph
Rachel
Nurturers of the Past and Caretakers of the Future
Fifth
Moses
Miriam
Leaders of Freedom
Sixth
Aaron
Deborah
Harbingers of Peace
Seventh (Hoshanah Rabah)
David
Ruth
Living Legacies of Israel for the Past, Present & Future
For next year, remember to contact Rabbi Posen to find out how to build a sukkah yourselves!
לשמור  To Keep:  לעשות  To Do: Invite friends to share in a meal with you.  Sukkot reminds us how temporary housing is for some.  Volunteer as a family in a soup kitchen. 

What’s Mine is Yours, and What’s Yours is Ours – Yom Kippur Reflections 5772

It’s the cliche you’ve heard a hundred times.  “There’s no ‘I’ in team.”  Maybe you’ve even heard the typical, sarcastic pre-teen comeback, “But there is “me.”  It’s the coach beckoning out to the player who isn’t sharing the ball with his teammates.  It’s the orchestra or band conductor when one musician doesn’t match their pitch with the others. It’s the teacher in a classroom when one student constantly calls out the answers before anyone else has a chance. Or it’s in a professional setting when one co-worker is constantly promoting themselves at the expense of another.  One of the hardest and most essential lessons to learn when interacting in society is how to share, how to be a part of the community.  We try to teach our children as young as we can that they are a part of the family, they are a part of the community, and that we have a responsibility to others to do our part to help.  But sometimes, when this lesson is taken to heart, we find ourselves so entrenched in the problems and workings of the community that we lose ourselves as individuals.  The ideal is a balance between personal responsibility and communal responsibility, and real peace is a world of give and take. 
Clearly, we don’t live in this utopia; in fact, we live in a world where finding the balance can be exceedingly difficult.  This problem of finding balance is most notably obvious when looking at the liturgy we’re about to spend 25 hours engaging with for Yom Kippur, when we’re spending time in the pews instead of glued to college football (*insert favored team cheer here).  It is on this special day that we are asked to look deep inside ourselves, to ask for forgiveness for the wrongs that we as individuals have done during the course of the year.  We are supposed to spend the day in personal thought and prayer, hoping to individually be inscribed in the book of life.  Yet each time we arrive at a moment of confession for our transgressions, it is written in the plural.  “We abuse, we betray, we are cruel…” are the words we recite.  We stress personal responsibility, but our liturgy informs us that for better or for worse, we are responsible in some way for the actions of all human kind.  While I might not be the literal transgressor, I live in a world where these transgressions continue to occur. 
“But Rabbi,” you might say, “I can’t take care of everyone!  That’s crazy!”  It’s about balance.  We strive towards a work/life balance, a food balance, a TV balance, and even here, a balance in our communal responsibilities.  Hillel, the great rabbinic scholar, taught:  If I am not for myself, who will be for me; If I am only for myself, what am I, and if not now, when?  This teaching reminds us that we have multiple obligations. 
●        If I am not for myself, who will be for me?
We must understand that we have a responsibility to take note of ourselves and to set boundaries that allow each of us to live a healthy and balanced lifestyle.  This phrase reminds us that we are each individually required to live a life that fulfills our own souls, and at this time of the year, we must take for ourselves precious moments for prayer that fulfills our needs.  We must be true to ourselves, and on this and every day, we must search deep inside ourselves for the truth in our prayers, thoughts and deeds.  We must understand what it is that we do or haven’t done because of our own reasons. 
●        If I am only for myself, what am I?
But, Hillel teaches, if we are only for ourselves, then we’ve done nothing.  If we only confess for the transgressions that we have done individually, then we have missed the boat on what it means to live.  “What am I,” we must ask ourselves, “when I don’t take a stand in the community, when I play for the ‘me’ instead of the team?”  As part of Am Yisrael, the Jewish people, we have a responsibility towards one another and the greater world to act for justice and righteousness.
●        If not now, when?
Finally, Hillel teaches us that the time is now.  Instead of waiting for the right time to take on that next project, start today.  We arrive at this season of repentance and renewal anxious to move forward and begin a new year.  As we make this fresh start, free from transgressions, we are to think about the now, about our commitment to the community.  The blessing is in the plural because we are all a part of the team.
ללמוד  To Learn: ללמד  To Teach: The Ashamnu is the communal confessional prayer of Yom Kippur.  Find it in your Machzor and as a family read through each of the “sins” or “missed marks” and discuss how you might work together as a team to stay on target this coming year.
לשמור  To Keep:  לעשות  To Do:  Yom Kippur is a day of atonement, asking for forgiveness, which can be very abstract to children.  Sit with your child and ask them what they’re asking for forgiveness for this year.  Perhaps even help them write a letter to the person they’ve hurt.

Your Inside Voice – Rosh HaShannah/Parshat Ha’azinu 5772

I’d like to share one of my favorite poems, “The Voice: by Shel Silverstein:
There is a voice inside of you that whispers all day long
I feel that this is right for me, I know that this is wrong
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend, or wise man can decide
What’s right for you, just listen to the voice that speaks inside.
Around this time of year, we often talk about the voice inside us and listening to our conscience, but each of us also has an individual voice, the voice that we use to speak to one another.  Sometimes it is a sweet, upbeat, light voice, and other times, it is loud, heavy, and angry.  The voice we use can change based on our environment.  When we’re outdoors having fun, we might be giggly and light spirited, but in front of the boardroom or class during a presentation, we try to make our voices firm, grounded and unwavering.  Voices can also make a distinct first impression when we hear someone before seeing them, which is the premise behind NBC’s show called “The Voice.” Our voice can allow others to know what we’re feeling at a given moment and, if we listen, alert us to how our peers are feeling.  The voice is a powerful tool.
We are in the midst of the Yamim Noraim, the Days of Awe, the days that represent not only a new year for the Jewish calendar, but days that require us to take accounting of our own souls, actions and deeds and to take ownership of the wrongs we have done in the past year.  We move quickly through the celebration of the New Year to the Shabbat of liminality, Shabbat Shuvah, the Shabbat of return or repentance that prepares us for Yom Kippur, the day of ultimate judgment.  All the while, we’re expected to use our voices to ask forgiveness, listen to others as they ask for forgiveness and listen to our internal voices as we determine our next actions.
During the unetanetokef prayer of the Rosh HaShannah liturgy we will read this week, we read the words “The great shofar will be sounded and the still small voice will be heard.”  This phrase from the liturgy contrasts the loud and soft voices we’re hearing.  Sometimes the right choice, the right voice, is loud, booming, alarming and in your face like the blasts of the shofar.  And other times, the voice is nearly silent, a whisper, hidden in the thought process that leads to decision making.
Rosh HaShannah serves as this day of calling out and beginning to be in tune with our voices, with our choices, with our conscience.  Finding our voice is as much about what we say as it is about what we hear.  Between Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur we read parshat Ha’azinu, the last portion of the Torah cycle read on Shabbat morning and a poem of Moshe recapping God’s glory.  He begins: “Give ear, O heavens, let me speak; let the earth hear the words I utter.”  Moshe conjures up two listeners: one includes the universe, God and the expanse unseen; the other is the earth, the material, that which happens between human beings.
The voice can connect us in prayer with one another and with God and can just as easily alienate us with violent words.  As we begin a new year, listen to the blasts of the shofar, the alarm of awareness.  Search for your own voice, but remember to “just listen to the voice that speaks inside.”  Only when we are in tune with our inner voice can our voice that is heard aloud truly make a difference.
ללמוד  To Learn: ללמד  To Teach: The parshah this week, chapter 32:7tells us: Remember the days of old… Ask your father, he will inform you.  This echoes the commandment of Passover to remember our past and teach our children.  Trace your family tree and see where you’ve come from.  As a family search for a custom for Rosh HaShannah from this place and try it out this year. http://www.myjewishlearning.com/holidays/Jewish_Holidays/Rosh_Hashanah.shtml
לשמור  To Keep  לעשות  To Do: During the Yamim Noraim pay special attention to the voices you use when talking to different people.  How do you sound?  Are you angry?  Frustrated?  Is this tone caused by the person to whom you are speaking or a separate incident in the day?  Awareness of the voice we use to speak to others can help us move forward with stronger relationships.

Heaven is a Place on Earth – Parshat Nitzavim-Vayelech 5771

Talmudic dispute: the Talmud tells of a dispute among scholars over a technical point of Jewish law.  They go back and forth.  Rabbi Eliezer starts, “If the law is like me, let the carob tree lean.”  And the tree leaned.  The Sages responded, “We don’t get our proof from a tree.”  Rabbi Eliezer continued, “If the law is like me, let this river turn directions of flow.”  And the river switched directions, but the Sages responded again, “We do not take proof from a river.”  Rabbi Eliezer continued, “If the law is like me, then let the walls of this Beit Midrash, house of study, start to lean.”  The walls began to lean.  R. Yehoshua called out to the walls, “We are arguing over Halachah. This is not your affair!” The walls stopped falling, to honor R. Yehoshua. To this day they remain bent, in honor of R. Eliezer.  R. Eliezer: If the law is like me, Heaven should show it.  A voice from heaven calls out, “Why do you argue with R. Eliezer? The Halachah always follows him!” R. Yehoshua: “It is not in Heaven.”
This story is a classic Talmud story, one of the first sections I learned in rabbinical school.  At its heart is the conflict of government deciding on matters of religious domain such as circumcision or marriage rituals.  While we have a strong hold to our Torah, the laws divinely inspired and passed from God to Moshe and humanly interpreted for our day, we might also find ourselves wondering why God, the heavens might be prescribing our daily lives, rituals and actions.  Rabbi Eliezer appears as the staunch believer, putting his system of practice in line with the Torah, not taking into account the condition of present society.  One can envision Rabbi Yehoshua enraged as he arises to make his statement.  He replies that matters of Halachah, the Jewish legal system taken on by the rabbis to prescribe law and observance in our modern society, is not a matter for heaven to interfere with.
This statement, lo bashamayim he, meaning “it is not in heaven,” has its roots in our parshah this week, parshat Nitzavim-Vayelech.  These two parshiyot come together right before Rosh HaShanahas a means to allow us to reaffirm our covenant with God and with our religion, to secure our place in the land of Israel and to prepare us mentally for the work of repentance, repair and rebirth that happens with the Yamim Noraim, these coming days of awe.
In D’varim chapter 30, verses 12-14 we learn: “It is not in the heavens, that you should say, ‘Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us that we may observe it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you could say, ‘Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?’ No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth, and in your heart, to observe it.” The text almost reads as a rebuke to the people building the Tower of Bavel: Don’t try to reach the heavens, that’s not where you’re meant to be.  The laws, the passion and the beauty of Judaism are not meant to be out of reach, they are meant to be within our grasp, within our souls.  Torah, God and Mitzvot are not for those who are overly pious and self restrained, they are for every human being and have been entrusted to us to study and to interpret.
The challenge of this idea is made clear a few verses later in 30:19. “I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your seed may live.”  We have a choice.  We can choose to leave ritual and Jewish practice for others, or we can choose to take on the responsibility of Jewish practice, striving to build a relationship with those around us, with God and with our heritage.  We can choose to see the Torah as a book of the past, irrelevant to our lives, or we can rejoice in the blessings of connecting to our past and our future.
While the laws of the Torah, of Kashrut, of Shabbat, can seem overwhelming, we should remember that it is not out of reach, they are not in Heaven; rather, they are right here, waiting to be discovered, uncovered and learned and loved by each of us.
ללמוד  To Learn: ללמד  To Teach: Ask a Rabbi or Phone a friend.  The best way to learn is with a guide to help you down the path.  Pick up the book It’s A Mitzvah to start your journey with step by step suggestions, or find a mentor to help teach you whichever mitzvot you choose to take on next.
לשמור  To Keep:  לעשות  To Do: As we approach the Jewish New Year, make a resolution.  What do you want to learn this year? What do you want to teach your children?  Let me know how I can help make Judaism within reach to be loved by you.

It Takes Two. Or Three, or Four… – Parshat Ki Tavo 5771

When she was First Lady, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton promoted the concept that “it takes a village” when it comes to caring for the needs of children.  After the terrible tragedy this summer in Houston with the Berry family, we have seen that a village of supporters can come together to help out in the greatest time of tragedy.  On a day to day basis, it also takes a village to keep a society working smoothly.  Each of us has our own strengths and weaknesses; we strive to find partnerships that complement one another and offer peaceful co-existence, relying on one another to complete our lives.  For instance, I can offer spiritual guidance as a rabbi, but when it comes to numbers, I’m lost. For my CPA, numbers might be second nature, while religion might seem foreign and complicated.  
As the Torah inches towards the end of our yearly cycle, we find the Israelites preparing to enter the promised land; learning about what they’re supposed to do now that their once migrant society is settled.  The Torah makes no secret that each person has their own purpose, the priests to bless and offer sacrifices, the Levites to help the priests, the Israelites to farm the land so the community can eat.  Each of these elements works together to create a society that functions. 
Parshat Ki Tavo teaches us about rebuking one another when one has wronged someone, about bringing the gifts of our labors as an offering to God, and about the consequences of obedience and disobedience.  These consequences are actually framed as blessings and curses.  The text teaches that if one were to follow all of God’s laws, blessings would come to them.  As we teach our children, when you eat your vegetables, you can have ice cream for dessert.  Or, the reward for a dog who is finally house trained is a treat (a treat for the dog, and certainly a treat for the owner).  But the same child learns there will be time out when she doesn’t follow directions, and our text also teaches of the consequences, the curses that befall a nation who disobeys God’s laws.  
What strikes me in this parshah is the fact that the text recognizes that we all have something to teach or share with our community.  In chapter 27, verse 26 the text teaches: “Cursed be he who will not uphold the terms of this Teaching and observe them.  And all the people shall say, Amen.”  Observing and learning Torah is an obligation on every Jew.  But, the commentators recognize that not everyone will be cut out for sitting and learning all day, so they remind us in the Talmud Yerushalmi that this applies even to those individuals who never studied and never taught Torah, but can give financial support to those who do.  The Torah tells us that it is a curse, a negative, when we don’t share our gifts with the community.  When we withhold our gifts – educational, financial and otherwise – we take away a piece of the community, a piece of God’s Torah that we are commanded to share.
It takes a village.  We must share our gifts with one another in order to create and sustain that village.  Whether you can give financially, or offer services, if you can design the T-shirt forZimriyah, or help build a sukkah, or even just greet with a smiling face, each and every member of our Levine Academy community, our Dallas community and our Jewish community is an integral part of making our village work.  What will you share?
ללמוד  To Learn: ללמד To Teach: Find someone to teach you something new, and offer to share your wisdom with them.  Creating a partnership in learning, a chevruta, is the essence of Jewish study. 
לשמור  To Keep  לעשות  To Do:  When you celebrate Shabbat and other holidays with your close or extended family, do certain people always have certain roles? How does the family work together to get everything done?