Happy Accidents – Parshat Ki Teitzei 5782

Fans of Bob Ross may remember that part of his teaching philosophy was about embracing those “happy accidents” that happen when something unintentional turns into something beautiful and artistic. It reminds me of the notion of the unintentional mitzvah, an idea as old as the Torah itself.

This week we read Parshat Ki Teitzei. We receive laws about war and taking care of hostages, laws about our clothing, laws about family relationships, laws about taking care of the poor, and so much more. Ki Teitzei is actually the Torah portion with the most number of mitzvot (commandments) in it, but the recurring theme is how we should execute and fulfill the mitzvot prescribed to us.

In particular, the laws cover taking care of the more vulnerable members of the community. While earlier in the Torah we learn about leaving the corner of the fields for those who might be hungry so that they can maintain their dignity and pick the food, Parshat Ki Teitzei offers one more way we can support those in need.

Chapter 24, verse 19 presents an interesting unintentional mitzvah when it states, “When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the fatherless and the widow.” No one, in this scenario, is purposefully choosing to overlook a sheaf of grain. For whatever reason, the harvester accidentally missed that sheaf, but that accident is now a mitzvah.  

We encourage our children to give tzedakah and donate to worthy causes. In fact, we have deemphasized big Hanukkah gifts (those come from other family members) in favor of a small donation each of the eight nights. It feels good to give something back, whether that’s signing up for a meal on someone’s Meal Train or supporting Ukraine through a local campaign. Most of the time, Duncan and I coordinate these so we know how much money is going where, or who’s responsible for dropping off dinner to a friend. Once in a great while, though, we accidentally double up – an unintentional mitzvah, if you will. And if you’re going to make a mistake, what better kind of mistake to make than doing an extra mitzvah?

Accidents, by nature, aren’t choices. However, we do have the choice in how we react to something we’ve overlooked. True, it was our intention to donate once or add just a few coins to the tzedakah box, but if a mistake unintentionally supports the community or helps someone else who might not have otherwise benefited, then our mistake becomes a bigger gift. Parshat Ki Teitzei and this specific commandment are meant to remind us that sometimes it can be better to let it go, to embrace the happy unintentionality and make a mistake that might just lift someone else up. 

Punishment Fits the Crime – Parshat Shoftim 5782

One of the parts of parenting that Duncan and I struggle with the most is giving reasonable and logical consequences. We’ve gotten better at it now as the children are older and are a tiny bit more rational than when they were in preschool, but it still isn’t easy. It’s much easier, in the frustration of a slower than necessary bedtime routine, to demand, “If you don’t get out of the bathtub right now, there’s no iPad time tomorrow.” This consequence is threatened in the heat of the moment, and it’s not at all logical or relevant to bath time. Plus, enforcing it often causes more pain to us than to our children because we need those 30 minutes of screen time while we’re making dinner as much as they do.

Even God struggles with determining logical consequences throughout the Torah. Remember, Moses isn’t allowed into Israel because he didn’t listen to God, who instructed him to talk to the rock, but Moses instead remembered and acted on an earlier instruction to hit the rock to get the result he wanted. Seems like an outsized punishment for Moses’s mistake, doesn’t it? As a parent figure, it seems that God has to learn about logical consequences too. And in fact we finally have some workable guidance in this week’s Torah portion. 

Parshat Shoftim is a section of Torah that completely focuses on the legal system, justice, and context for the laws. This text includes the commandment to establish judges and officers, as well as a listing of punishments for certain transgressions against mitzvot. We also learn about the laws regarding false witness and murder. 

In chapter 19 God reiterates a lesson that has been shared before in the Torah (twice, actually). You may know it as “eye for an eye,” but a more complete reading includes “Life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot.” These are not meant to be taken literally, but as an instruction to have the punishment fit the crime, and neither more nor less harsh than the original transgression.

It’s easy to go on consequence overload when you’re in an emotional moment. The Torah is itself, however, a grounding resource. Reading these same texts year after year is what grounds us emotionally and spiritually, and it reminds us, especially in this week’s portion, that only when we’re in that grounded space can we act justly.

There Will Always Be More – Parshat Re’eh 5782

Over the last number of years as I’ve worked on routines and strategies for keeping my life and my family’s lives in order, I’ve noticed a peculiar and often frustrating phenomenon. I’ll finish doing something like laundry – the entire act from washing, drying, folding and putting it away – only to notice that it’s still not done because someone has changed clothes or there was one lone sock left on the floor and now not clean. Or I’ll do the grocery shopping, making a meticulous list for each place I need to visit and each item to pick up, then get home and put the food away before realizing the one item I forgot. Chores never really end, but these situations enhance that feeling even more.

Beyond these trivial tasks of everyday life, there are bigger problems that remind me of this cycle too. Look how far we’ve come in pushing down Covid numbers, only to have monkeypox consume the news. The work in just about every field is never done. 

We read Parshat Re’eh this week, as the Torah races to the finish line of its lessons. In our parshah we learn about the blessings and curses that will come with the observance (or lack thereof) of the mitzvot we’re given. We receive some final warnings about following the laws against idolatry, laws for keeping kosher, and the importance of treating each other as equals. Finally, we receive some more information on our three pilgrimage festivals.

The core of the laws given in Parshat Re’eh focus on taking care of one another. As we know, living in a community requires us to care for others, and knowing that need is ever present can be exhausting. Chapter 15, verse 11 states it outright: “For there will never cease to be needy ones in your land.” Knowing that this is overwhelming thought, the Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Pesachim 113a, teaches “better to flay carcasses in the marketplace than to depend on public assistance because you feel the available work is beneath your dignity.” In other words, each of us has an obligation to do our part to help ourselves as a way of lightening the never-ending load on the community.

Our communal structure needs to be built on the understanding that while we may dream of a time when there are no more needy, the reality is that there will always be a need. Instead of finding that notion overwhelming and wanting to quit, we’re reminded to set up assistance programs and strategies for support that lighten the load while encouraging growth and self-sufficiency. 

The work will never be done, there will always be another load of laundry, another medical conundrum, or societal problem, but the way through it is to plan each and every day to finish that day’s portion so we can rest up and start again tomorrow. 

Finding a Bargain – Parshat Eikev 5782

My Grammy, Muriel, was one heck of a shopper. She loved nothing more than finding an incredible deal on almost anything. She always knew the best time to go shopping for a deal on clothes, so an entirely new wardrobe could be purchased for a third of the actual price. But she was truly in her element at the flea market. Grammy could haggle like the best of them. I have vivid memories of visiting her in Scottsdale, Arizona, where she would winter, and going to the flea market with her. I’d fall in love with a ring or a trinket, and there was no way Grammy would let me pay the asking price. She’d haggle, walk away, and then somehow get it for a lower price. 

As helpful a tactic as bargaining can be in a flea market, it doesn’t work in all facets of life. Maybe you’ve had a loved one who fell ill, and you begged a doctor to do something perhaps beyond human capability. Maybe you’ve missed an important deadline and can’t get yourself or your kid into a program you were counting on or complete a project by a deadline. Bargaining doesn’t usually work in these more abstract cases, and that includes bargaining with God. Have you ever tried to bargain with God? “Just let me pass this test, and I’ll study for the next one.” “Let my loved one heal, and I’ll do a mitzvah.” Has it worked?

Parshat Eikev, which we read this week, explores the notion that God might or might not respond to bargains. We learn of the blessing and reward you receive if you keep the laws of the Torah and of the consequences for those who don’t follow those laws. The Torah recaps the lessons learned from the Golden Calf, the breaking of the first set of tablets, and Moshe’s prayer for the people. We finally receive the second section of the Shema, followed by a clear warning to guard the Torah and its commandments.

In the midst of these lessons we read in chapter 10, verse 17 that God “is supreme and Lord supreme, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who shows no favor and takes no bribe.” In essence, God is God, and unyielding when it comes to our desired outcomes in the world, whatever they may be. No matter how much we may want to change reality, bribing God won’t cut it. It is upon us to do the work. If only life were like a flea market and we could bargain our way in or out of any situation. But Eikev reminds us God is not that kind of creator.

Temptation Looms – Parshat Vaetchanan 5782

Am I the only one who can’t keep certain foods in the house because I can’t keep myself from eating them? Pre-Covid, our house had just a small assortment of salty snacks, mostly because I simply could not eat them in moderation. When we found ourselves home all the time with two children who were constantly hungry for a snack, we quickly tired of constantly putting food in bowls and then washing those bowls. Instead, we opted for single serving packages of all their favorites (Chex Mix, potato chips, Cheez-Its, Cheetos) so we could put them in an easily accessible place and not have to spend the whole day portioning food. While we’ve gone back to bulk sizes to avoid waste, unfortunately now we’ve gotten in the habit of having all my favorite snack foods readily available at home, and I’ve had to find a way to keep myself from grazing on them all day every day. 

The truth is I’m a big believer in moderation and learning my limits, I just didn’t want to with these foods. My original plan of keeping minimal pantry items may have worked for me, but it wasn’t the right choice to keep them from my other family members who enjoy them. As with so many parts of our lives, temptation is best overcome by digging in and understanding our limits and boundaries. 

The Torah periodically shows us types of temptation to avoid, and each time is another reminder of how powerful our choices can be. Parshat Vaetchanan continues with the retelling of the laws here again in the book of Deuteronomy. We also read about God’s persistent refusal to allow Moshe to enter the Land of Israel. The Torah issues a caution to uphold the mitzvot as the key to building an Israelite society, Moshe sets three cities of refuge, and we receive what is the most well-known instruction in the Torah, the Shema. 

Among these rules and rehashing of appropriate worship, in chapter four we read about all the objects and beings of God’s creation. The sky, the sun and stars, animals, human kind. And, while talking about how awe-inspiring those creations are, the Torah tells us not to worship them. This is a warning against the sultry seduction of the idolatry practiced in the nations that surround the Israelites. But this section of text makes you wonder: if the Torah is concerned that we’ll stray from our worship of God to worshiping the natural world, why were these celestial bodies and earthly wonders even created? In other words, if I can’t keep my hands out of the bag of Cheetos, why keep them in the house?

For one thing, the rest of creation is critical to our survival. Clearly there’s a difference between humankind needing the sun’s light and my “needing” a bag of Cheetos. But even more than that, the gift of choice is one of the signs of the divine spark within us. The free will we have to choose to eat for nourishment (and maybe occasionally for pleasure) and to choose to maintain our faith is the true gift of life.