Love and Loyalty – Parshat Kedoshim 5782

When I was a child, there was nothing worse than someone saying they were “disappointed in me.” At that stage in my life, it was either my parents or someone else I respected, but it’s still painful to hear even now. Why does that simple phrase sting so much? It’s not the simple act of causing disappointment, which can be out of our control sometimes. It’s the feeling that for that brief moment we’ve broken a special bond of trust with someone we love. 

Think about it this way: can you recall a time when someone you barely knew told you that you disappointed them? And on the slim chance it did happen, did you feel as crushed as if it came from someone you admired, respected, and had an established relationship with? I’m guessing the answer is no. The sting of a broken bond or promise between two people who’ve built not only a connection, but certain expectations with one another, is deep. This is all the more true with God and the Israelite nation as we read in the Torah.

This week we read Parshat Kedoshim. 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” which helps us to understand how we can walk in God’s ways and create a community of understanding.

Parshat Kedoshim is built on the primary understanding that God and the Israelite nation are not merely business partners. They are much more intimately connected than that; the relationship often parallels that of a committed couple, as in a marriage. We see this when the text begins, “You are holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy,” and continues as the reason for each of the boundaries and laws set out moving forward. However, this idea is never more clearly stated than when God is sharing what will happen should God ever be disappointed in the new nation. 

Chapter 20, verse 6 specifically delineates the punishments that will come to any person who chooses to worship another god. The Hebrew word used is liznot, translated as “going astray.” But the meaning isn’t quite that simple; it has the connotation of marriage vows. This is because worshiping another god is akin to cheating on God as an intimate partner. Again, the relationship between God and the Israelite nation runs much deeper than a transactional one, where simply following the rules leads to reward. 

Is there a pang of hurt when you disappoint someone you love? Yes, and it’s natural. Just like our relationships with each other, our relationship with God is built on mutual love and loyalty, and it’s because of that foundation that we strive to be our best selves in those partnerships.

Say It Out Loud – Parshat Acharei Mot 5782

In my work with people who are curious about Judaism or learning about Jewish practice for the first time, there is often amazement at the notion that for most of our confessions, most of the time when we’re facing change or needing to unload emotionally, we don’t need a rabbi to witness it. Instead, we have moments of individual prayer that include confession in almost every Amidah outside of Shabbat. In Catholicism, confession happens out loud in a private booth with a priest, whereas in modern Judaism, confession most often takes the form of private, silent communication between the individual and God. 

Interestingly, Judaism wasn’t always like this. In the times of the Torah, the High Priest played a significant role in the act of confession for the Israelite people, and we learn about this public, spoken confession in our Torah portion this week. 

This week we read Parshat Acharei Mot, the portion that details the laws and rules for healthy relationships. It begins with the aftermath of the loss of Aaron’s sons to their own out of body experience while breaking the rules, and continues with the laws about how we’re supposed to atone for our sins on Yom Kippur. The final chapter of the text deals with appropriate and inappropriate relationships between family members.

In chapter 16 we read about the ways that Aaron would go and make the confession on behalf of all the people of Israel. You’d think that if he’s making the confessions on behalf of all the people, naturally they would’ve had to share them with him. Specifically, in verse 21, the text tells us that Aaron would place both his hands upon the head of the live goat and confess over it all the iniquities and transgressions of the Israelites. In other words, not only did the Israelites have to share their transgressions out loud with Aaron first, he then said them out loud a second time to the goat.

While sharing our missteps with a goat might not be what we picture for atonement today, it’s important to note the action required here to move forward after a transgression. This system relies on saying our confessions out loud. How often do you have a conversation inside your own head about something you regret or feel remorse about? And how often does that internal dialogue actually lead to change? If you’re like me, the change doesn’t happen unless I voice those thoughts to another human being. I’ve even tried using my dog, Stanley, as my scapegoat, but he doesn’t hold me accountable. 

Parshat Acharei Mot is a gentle reminder to each of us that in order to make real progress in ourselves, we must say the change we want to make out loud. In Judaism, there’s no longer a High Priest or even a rabbi required; any interpersonal conversation can be your stepping stone. The action of change occurs when we take our own inner voice and let others hear our intention. 

A Strong Core – Parshat Metzora 5782

If the core isn’t solid, the integrity of a structure suffers. This is true for homes and commercial buildings as well as the structure of the human body or even the “structure” of a community. When we were doing renovations on our house a few years ago, I was very interested in the steps the builders took to make sure we had a sound structure. Naturally, I wanted our house to be strong and remain standing, but it went beyond that. I noticed the places where they used reinforced materials. I noticed where they pointed out a little bit of wood rot or gaps in insulation from old construction. All of that information was helpful to understanding the core strength of our home. 

On a personal and very physical level, it was around this time when I also started exercising regularly and often with my coach. As we cycled through the strength exercises, I would notice that some days worked muscles I didn’t know I had, resulting in incredible soreness, while other times, I hardly felt anything the next day. The muscles I used frequently were already strong and didn’t feel the strain, while the muscles I used less often made themselves known. The key to it all was building and maintaining a strong core. When my core was engaged, my body was more stable.

The idea of identifying the core of a structure, a person, or even an organization is at the center of this week’s Torah portion. This week’s portion, Metzora, is a pause in the narrative of the death of Aaron’s sons, his mourning process, and his rejoining the community. The text details the healing and purification processes of physical buildings and our nation of Israel. As you might imagine, these processes require different actions for different circumstances.

There’s a focus on literally scraping apart buildings and looking at materials to find the source of an impurity. Find the brick, scrape the mud, cut a hole, etc. When all else fails, the Torah asks the community to tear down the building altogether, because at its core, it isn’t sound and must be rebuilt. The commentators read these verses and liken the idea of building strong physical buildings to that of building strong communities.

In chapter 14, verses 43 through 45, the question we’re to ask is whether or not the building as a whole has superficial issues or “wounds,” or if it is the entirety of the building that is broken and must be torn down. In the commentary, we’re asked to use this same lens on our own organizations when there are problems, struggles, or stumbles. Is it the entirety of the institution that is failing, or are there individual boards that need replacing or screws that need tightening?  

Not every problem can be solved with a repair. Sometimes what you really need is an overhaul. Parshat Metzora reminds us that to be problem solvers means knowing the difference.

The Little Things – Parshat Tazria 5782

I like to think of myself as a pretty observant person. I take in small details and notice when something has changed, whether it’s a haircut, landscaping, or new jewelry. I’m pretty sure I’ve been like this for most of my life. In fact, I like noticing little changes, and it can make other people feel good and feel very seen when someone notices those little changes. Not only that, but being aware of tiny changes can actually save lives.

About 18 months ago, I found a small lump in my armpit. I was doing my monthly self check and noticed something small, like a ball rolling around. I did my best not to panic, but inside I was going through every worst case scenario I could think of. I scheduled a virtual doctor visit to get some clarity and then ended up with a quickly scheduled mammogram and ultrasound. Turns out, it was just a harmless little cyst that I then had removed. Being aware of my body’s tiny changes was enough for me to catch something that could have been a lot worse. 

Our Torah portion this week is a call to notice those small changes so we can take care of ourselves. This week we read from Parshat Tazria, one of two portions in the Torah that deal explicitly and fully with transitioning in and out of states of purity. The text begins with the notion of “impurity,” specifically the transitional states after childbirth, and continues with the treatments and prescriptions for what to do when a person needs cleansing of both body and material items in order to reenter the world.

As the Torah lists all the different ailments to watch out for – and there are many – it draws great attention to noticing change: hair that once had color but is now white, or skin that was pink and is now ashen or dry. Each of these little changes might be a sign of a different ailment. And the awareness of these changes can be lifesaving for the person infected and even the community around them.

Consider this your reminder to schedule that annual physical, go to the dentist, get a haircut, and get to know yourself. Like that postcard from the dermatologist, Parshat Tazria is our biblical yearly reminder to pay attention to our bodies. The Torah is not suggesting we be hypochondriacs, but simply to be knowledgeable and aware so that we can take the best possible care of ourselves and others.  

Lashing Out – Parshat Shemini 5782

When does your temper flare? Like everyone, I have my limits. I’ll lose my temper when I have simply been pushed until I cannot contain myself anymore. In these heated moments we’ve all experienced, it’s nearly impossible to offer compassion, space, or understanding as to what others might be feeling. Whether well-founded or not, feelings of betrayal and disrespect block us from seeing the bigger picture, and it can take time to reconcile these feelings. While a temper isn’t a trait we necessarily admire in our leaders, I can take comfort knowing that leaders in the Torah, like Moses, have also let tempers flare. 

To change the subject briefly, the Torah provides interesting insight into the grieving process, particularly in the portion we read this week, Parshat Shemini. The parshah begins with the words, “On the eighth day . . .” after the priests have been installed. The text picks up with the narrative of creating a holy leadership team of Aaron and his sons, who unfortunately make an offering without the appropriate directions or intentions and end up losing their lives. Following this tragic story are the laws for making time holy with sacrifices and laws for making our bodies holy by following kashrut (keeping kosher).

In the moments after Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu fail in their roles as priests and die in the process, Moses has a hard time containing his rage. He lashes out at the remaining priests, Eleazar and Ithamar. He questions their frame of mind; he yells at them. Why? Because in this moment Moses cannot be reasoned with. He can only express his rage.

Is it right for a leader to rage publicly? That might be up for debate. But what’s clear is that lashing out doesn’t prove useful. Yes, Moses needed to grieve in his own way, but for his nephews and brother, he really needed to share words of comfort, of understanding, of guidance.

Parshat Shemini brings to life the realities of emotions, and emotions like grief and anger hit each of us in unique ways. It’s a complicated lesson to learn: being able to control our emotions while acknowledging that our emotions need to be let out in healthy ways. But that’s Judaism in a nutshell, being able to hold more than one idea at a time.