Anger Management – Parshat Ki Tissa 5771

In Perkei Avot, the tractate of the Mishnah that teaches us a great deal about ethics, it is taught:
There are four types of temperaments:
Easy to anger and easy to appease- the loss is canceled by the reward.
Hard to anger and hard to appease- the reward is canceled by the loss.
Easy to anger and hard to appease- a wicked person.
Hard to anger and easy to appease- a saint (Hasid).
Take a moment and think about each of these temperaments.  How would you categorize yourself?  Your partner? Your child? 
It could be argued that throughout life, each of us takes on all four of these temperaments depending on the situation, our investment in the cause, and maybe even our level of exhaustion.  Our parshah this week, parshat Ki Tissa, deals in great length with anger management problems.  The parshah finds the Israelites on their journey through the desert, and after they take the ½shekel census, the people wait for Moses to come down from the mountain.  Up until this point in the narrative, we have seen the Israelite people as quick to complain and easily appeased by miracles.  We have seen Moses occasionally get frustrated with them and coddle them along this journey. 
The narrative throughout the Torah has also guided us through the reactions of God to the people.  When Adam and Eve are in the Garden of Eden and eat from the Tree of Knowledge, God does not lash out with violence or destruction; rather, God gives them a fitting punishment.  During the period of Noah, God is outraged at the corrupt behavior of the people and sends the flood that wipes out all of creation other than Noah.  But almost as quickly as the flood waters rush through, God sends a rainbow and makes a promise not to do this again.  With Abraham and the cities ofSdom and G’morah, God is again upset by the citizens’ behavior, and instead of destroying an entire world, only destroys those cities. 
In this week’s parshah, we are introduced to a different kind of anger from God.  Moses does not come down from the mountain right away, and the people lose faith quickly.  They instruct Aaron to build them a calf, a physical object to worship.  Meanwhile, Moses is unaware of their actions, and when God shares with Moses what the people have done, it is with vengeance and anger.  In chapter 32, verse 7 God begins to react, telling Moses to go down to “your people, whom you brought out of the land of Egypt…” Immediately God has turned away from the people and placed ownership on Moses.  God continues in verse 9, “I see that this is a stiff-necked people.  Now, let Me be, that My anger may blaze forth against them and that I may destroy them, and make of you a great nation.”  Moses responds in verse 11 by imploring God to calm down:  “Let not Your anger, O Lord, blaze forth against Your people, whom You delivered from the land of Egypt with great power and with a mighty hand.  Let not the Egyptians say, ‘It was with evil intent that He delivered them, only to kill them off in the mountains and annihilate them from the face of the earth.’” 
God is red with rage, taken over with anger, and this anger is so strong it is nearly uncontrollable.  Moses recognizes this as his moment to take control.  The Talmud in tractate Brachot perek 5retells this story as Moses grabbing God by the nape of the neck and basically saying, “God, this is so like you, you always do this, you get so angry and react so quickly.  God, you’re quick to anger, think about how people will view you.”  Moses asks God to stop, to take a moment and think about the consequences, the bigger picture, the grand scheme of things. 
In a way, God, like each of us, has varied temperaments and reactions with anger.  What Moses teaches God is the need to take a step back, take a deep breath and pause.  Think about what would happen if each one of us, instead of screaming, going on a rampage or shutting down was able to stop, think and then react.  Moses did this for God, and whether we’re quick to anger and easy to appease or hard to anger and hard to appease, sometimes we all need that reminder to take a step back, stop and think.
Family Discussion Questions:
1.       Our ‘ethical covenant’ teaches us about erech apayim, being slow to anger.  This can be difficult at times.  How can you work together as a family to control our reactions?
2.       How do you calm down most easily?  Who can help you?

Well Worn – Parshat Tetzaveh 5771

Some people wear clothing, and for other people clothing wears them.  As a little girl, I had trouble deciding what to wear each day.  My parents used to joke as they received their nightly fashion show that I would be so much better off if I just had a uniform.  True, if I had a uniform, my parents would be assured that I wouldn’t come out dressed in mismatching patterns or colors, but in my mind I was afraid that a uniform might take away my sense of style (or lack thereof) if I wasn’t able to share my personal pizzazz. 
Throughout time, clothing has become an industry, and we associate different styles of dress with different personalities and different clothing lines with price points.  Clothing also gives clues to one’s occupation – scrubs might mean a doctor or surgeon, blue uniform might mean police officer, white lab coat might denote a scientist, overalls a workman or painter.  What we put on our bodies indicates in certain ways our actions in life. 
When Adam and Eve first noticed their nakedness, they covered themselves in haste.  They didn’t spend time figuring out which designer (Calvin Vine or Tommy Hil-fig-leafer) fit their body types best or which store had the best sales.  They just covered themselves.  Since the events of Gan Eden, human beings have been uncomfortable in nothing but their own skin.  We have a need to cover up our bodies out of modesty and respect. 
Our parshah, parshat Tetzaveh, reminds us of the message our clothing sends about us.  It is here in the Torah that we are given the description of the priestly garments.  Every layer is associated with their occupation, from their clothing to the accessories and from simple linen garments to metal breastplates and jackets.  Aaron’s sons must wear their uniforms to work each day, each piece representing a different middah (attribute) expected of them in their position of holiness and working with God.  Aaron’s sons could not go to work in their play clothes, throwing on a pair of ripped jeans and a t-shirt in order to do their job.  Their uniform instilled in them a sense of purpose, authority and respect.  These garments could not be worn by just anyone, they were special. 
A uniform can diminish power struggles by maintaining a sense of sameness and conformity among the group, but it can also instill special authority in the wearer since only a person in that position or organization may wear it.  We see this when our 8th grade students are able to wear their blue shirts for the first time.  This blue shirt represents 8th grade, the year of the Israel trip, graduation, uniqueness and growth.  Tallit and tefillin offer a similar status of exclusivity when we reach the age of b’nai mitzvah.
But, the uniform is only what goes on top.  The uniform is the cover, the mantle of position and of belonging.  What’s underneath is what counts.  Without the uniform, Aaron’s sons are not kohanim, they are boys; without the prescribed ritual, their act becomes not a communal offering but a personal gesture.   I’m not sure it’s true that the “clothing makes the man,” but perhaps it’s that the clothing represents how the man feels about himself. 
Parshat Tetzaveh stands to remind us that our outsides should match our insides, and when we’re not in “uniform” we are still asked to represent ourselves as holy beings, as creatures with an even greater occupation.  We are to clothe ourselves in a way that shows our commitment to justice, to modesty, and to respecting ourselves as God’s creations.
Family Discussion Questions: 
  1. Our ‘ethical covenant’ teaches us the value of Shmirat HaGuf, guarding our bodies, both physically in eating right, but also in presentation.  How can your clothing change the way a person perceives you?  How should you keep this in mind when dressing?
  2. The priests were clothed with the breast-piece of judgement, the jacket that discouraged gossip, a coat that prevented them from idolatry.  What are you clothed in?

Defying Gravity – Parshat Trumah 5771

“Home is where the heart is.”  We often here this idiom as a way of comforting a person who is homesick, missing their home, but we define the word home in different ways.  For some, it is the physical dwelling in which they live or grew up, the physical space on a specific street.  For others, home is wherever they’ve landed.  Sometimes we establish our “home” by decorating it a certain way, hanging pictures, or getting to know our neighbors.  Other times we are “home” when we’re in a city that conjures memories of a wonderful experience.  Whatever our reasons, we have an attachment to our “home.”
Our Torah is full of various mentions of holy spaces.  Whether it is an altar that one of our forefathers built in order to make an offering to God or the mention of a place of burial, we are inundated with those moments that change an ordinary place into an extraordinary place.  In the beginning of Sefer Shemot, God even instructs Moshe to take off his shoes because the ground he stands on is sacred.  Archaeologists and biblical scholars have spent countless years trying to pin point exactly where each of the sacred spaces is located, yet we remain unsure.  In fact, Mount Sinai, the place where God sent down those 10 “rules to live by,” is unidentifiable in our current world. 
What we do have is an attachment to a tiny piece of land and those few exact locations we’ve been able to pin point, such as the site of the Beit HaMikdash, the Temple.  This site is a must-see on tourist trips through the land among other stopping at places that have a connection to the past as we try to find some meaning in the present for the future.  As human beings, we have a deep desire for concrete objects and tangible evidence of forces in our world.  We believe there is wind because we can feel it or see the leaves moving on the trees.  We cannot “see” gravity, but know it exists because we’re not floating freely through the air.  But where we run into trouble is wrapping our minds around God because there is no singular place, one object that we can identify as “God.” 
Our parshah, parshat Terumah, addresses this innate desire for a physical representation of a metaphysical source.  God instructs the Israelites to bring gifts of their heart to aid in the building of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle which will travel with them on their journey.  The Hebrew wordMishkan, from the root Shin, Chaf, Nun, means to rest.  Chapter 25, verse 8 commands the Israelites, “And they should make for me a sanctuary so that I may dwell among them.”  God will not literally rest inside this Tabernacle; rather, this sanctuary makes tangible the concept of the indwelling of the divine Presence, God’s immanence.  The people, who have journeyed from place to place, are in need of a “home base,” a place to which they can turn where everything is familiar and comfortable.  Symbolically the Mishkan is for God, but on every other level its purpose is really for the people, serving as the physical marking of God’s presence.  God does not dwell in theMishkan, God dwells among us in our hearts when we work to build a holy, sacred community.
Family Discussion Questions: 
1.       Our “ethical covenant” instructs us to act with Kedusha, holiness.  How can your family build a Kehillah Kedosha, a sacred community?
2.       Complete the sentence:  Home is…  What makes a “home”?  Do you have multiple “homes”?

I Accept! – Parshat Mishpatim 5771

With all of the electronic purchasing of music, books, and software, we are now accustomed to scrolling down a long page of tiny letters stating all of the legal ramifications and (lack of) liabilities that we are asked to read carefully before clicking the green “I accept” button or the red “I do not agree” button.  I wonder how many of us actually read all of the fine print each and every time we buy a song on iTunes or join a new mailing list.  How many of us read through an entire instruction manual before playing with a new toy or electronic device? 
If you read through the entire fine print or instruction manual it’s usually for one of two reasons.  Either you couldn’t figure out how to turn the piece of equipment on, or you were having trouble falling asleep.  As they say when adjusting to any new device, job or life project, there is a learning curve, and the best way to learn is through action. 
Our parshah, this week, parshat Mishpatim, falls at a momentous crossroads for the Israelites.  They have left Egypt, are on their journey, and have just received a full list of instructions on the basic ways in which they will live their lives.  Especially significant in leaving Egypt is the experience of freedom and choice, concepts which are completely new to them.   The Israelites, like children trying something for the first time, are impatient, eager to learn, and – to borrow a concept from childhood – eager to “wear their new shoes out of the store.”  They respond to all of God’s rules and requests by saying “Na’aseh V’nishma.”  We will do, and then we will understand. 
We find at the heart of this statement a long debate amongst educators over the benefits of learning and then doing or doing and then learning.  In the Mishneh Torah, Rambam writes: “Everywhere we find that learning precedes action, for learning brings about action, action does not bring about learning.”  Rambam holds that the statement should read “Nishma V’na’aseh,” we will first listen, learn, understand, and then put it into action.  John Dewey, in his masterpiece “Experience and Education,” wrote:  “Just as no man lives or dies to himself, so too no experience lives or dies to itself.  Wholly independently of desire or intent, every experience lives on in further experiences.  Hence the central problem of education based on experience is to select the kind of present experiences that live fruitfully and creatively in subsequent experiences.”  Dewey argues that “Na’aseh V’nishma” leads to more actions and deeper understanding.  In both cases, the scholars argue that experiences must be grounded in a strong foundation to bring forth meaning and understanding in our world.
The Israelites are experiential learners; they know that the only way they can grow and develop their society is by living in it, by engaging with the world, by doing.  They want to press every button on the cell phone to see how it works in order to understand how to use it.  We will do, and we will understand.  These two come side by side; we are constantly being asked to listen, to hear what is going on around us, and to experience the moment.
This section of text falls in the book of Shemot (Exodus) chapter 24, verse 7.  It is teaching us that 24 hours a day, 7 days a week we are obligated to explore our world and try new adventures, but we also must take the time to reflect, think back, and try to intuit reasoning and understanding of what is going on in the world around us. 
The work we are asked to do is to dive in and experience the world, to click (when appropriate) the green “I accept” button and move through the world with a keen sense of awareness every day that we will be able to act with goodness and with heart and to understand our world by listening to one another.
Family Discussion Questions: 
  1. Our “ethical covenant” emphasizes Shmiat HaOzen, being an attentive listener.  It is often difficult to stop “doing” and start “listening”.  How do you as a family maintain the balance of understanding one another and working together?
  2. When is it better to listen and then act?  What have you learned only through experiencing?

Love and Logic – Parshat Yitro 5771

“Because I said so.”  I remember growing up and asking the never ending question of “why?”  Why do I have to clean my room?  Why do I have to eat my vegetables?  Why? Why? Why?  And when all other answers had been exhausted, my question would be met with “Because I said so!”  Even now as a teacher, when the students begin to ask the same questions which have already been answered over and over and over again, I admit to seeking a little bit of a relief by saying “because I said so.”
It is in our nature to question why we must do what we have to do.  If we do something nice we have to know what we will get in return or what the consequence will be if we do something not so nice.  Educational philosophy encourages us to answer from a place of love and logic, and “because I said so” is neither of these two.  The “Love and Logic” reasoning teaches that we should embrace our students, show them compassion and empathy, and greet their questions (and even misbehaviors) not from a place of anger but from a place of understanding.  Most important in this system is that the consequence of an action must logically match the action.  For instance, when I slammed my bedroom door one too many times as a child, my father simply removed the door from its hinges.  I learned that lesson quickly.  A positive reinforcement for an action like helping to put away the groceries might be the opportunity to pick the next flavor of ice cream for the household.
The Torah also comes primarily from a place of love and logic.  This week’s parshah, Parshat Yitro, is laden with Mitzvot and in particular, those 10 golden rules we learn to live by.  The middle commandment serves as the transitional point from the first to the second group of declarations because it incorporates both religious and social dimensions.  This commandment also employs the “love and logic” reasoning.
Chapter 20, verse 12 teaches:  “Honor your father and your mother, so that your days on the land that God has given to you will be lengthened.”  Even though the text teaches doing this (honoring your father and mother) so that you will receive that (long life) our natural inclination to question forces us to ask why is long life is the appropriate reward for honoring one’s father and mother?  “Because I said so” does not not quite suffice here.
The commentary of Toldot Yitzchak from Rabbi Yitzchak Karo tackles this question.  Rabbi Karo teaches: “All of the laws in the Torah can be matched action for action.  But if this is true, then the text should have taught, ‘honor your father and your mother so you will be honored.’”  It would make sense to have similar reasoning between action and consequence.  What does living a long life have to do with honoring one’s parents, he asks.  The answer is that one who has lived for a long period of time will be honored.  In other words, the Torah teaches “honor your father and mother” with the reward of long life so that you will be old and honored as well.
The answer here is not “because I said so,” but rather another one of our golden rules:  do unto others as you would want others to do unto you.  We are obligated to treat one another with love and logic because it is only logical that we learn from what we see, from how we are treated and from how we live.  Long life comes as a reward for asking why, but also knowing when to stop; when to go with your gut and when to accept the answer of “because.”  Think about how our world would be if we all employed love and logic, if our long lives were filled with honoring one another, just because.
Family Discussion Questions:
  1. Our ‘ethical covenant’ speaks of holiness and truth.  A core principal with each of these is acting with Emunah, faith.  How can your family employ the faith of love and logic in your daily life?
  2. The Torah grants that long life is a reward, something good.  What will you do with your “long life”?