Eve Posen

Sacred Boundaries, Sacred Commitments

May 7, 2025May 7, 2025Eve PosenLeave a comment

In our tradition, holiness isn’t something that floats above us in the heavens—it’s rooted in the way we live our lives, especially in our most intimate relationships. Parshat Acharei Mot, one of two parshiyot in this week’s double portion, challenges us to consider what it means to live a life of holiness not just through prayer and ritual, but through how we love, commit, and connect. In a culture that often celebrates freedom without boundaries, this parshah reminds us that some of the most powerful forms of holiness come not from saying “yes,” but from knowing when and how to say “no.”

Acharei Mot begins with the Yom Kippur service, detailing how the High Priest is to enter the Holy of Holies and seek atonement for the people. But the second half shifts dramatically into a list of arayot—forbidden sexual relationships. These laws are blunt and specific, outlining which relationships are prohibited, including those involving close kin, adultery, and other behaviors seen as destructive to the moral fabric of society.

While these verses may feel uncomfortable to read or discuss, especially in modern times, they close with a crucial teaching: “You shall keep my statutes . . . and live by them—va’chai bahem.” (Leviticus 18:5) These mitzvot are not meant to shame or repress, but to uphold life, community, and sacred trust.

There has never been more openness around sexuality and relationships than there is now. Much of that progress has been positive—celebrating love, expanding rights, and affirming dignity for all people. But in a world that often blurs the line between freedom and permissiveness, Acharei Mot reminds us that not all expressions of love are ethical or holy. The Torah’s sexual ethics are rooted in the belief that intimacy carries power—and with power comes responsibility.

There is no blessing for “not doing” something wrong—but there is a blessing for doing something right. At a Jewish wedding, we recite the sheva berachot, and one of those seven blessings thanks God for sanctifying us through mitzvot and commanding us concerning forbidden relationships:

Asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al ha’arayot . . .

It’s a striking moment: at the height of joy and intimacy, we recall the boundaries that protect the sanctity of the union. Judaism doesn’t just bless love—it blesses committed, ethical, sacred love.

This week, take time to reflect on the relationships in your life—romantic, familial, communal. Are they built on mutual respect and holiness? Do they honor boundaries, consent, and care? Consider how you might bring more intentionality to the way you show love, build trust, and uphold sacred commitments. Holiness isn’t only about what we avoid—it’s about what we build.

Healing Words and Healing Actions

April 30, 2025April 29, 2025Eve PosenLeave a comment

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” We know this isn’t true. Words can wound deeply—and also heal. In this week’s double portion, Tazria-Metzora, the Torah offers a layered exploration of both the power of words and the potential for healing, inviting us to reflect on speech, gratitude, and the journeys—physical and spiritual—we take toward wholeness.

Parshat Tazria opens with a woman’s recovery after childbirth, detailing a ritual of purification and offerings. In ancient times, childbirth was not only spiritually significant, but perilous. The Torah’s acknowledgment of that danger—followed by the mother’s eventual reintegration into communal and spiritual life—echoes a profound truth: survival itself is sacred. Today, when a parent safely delivers a child, we still carry this awareness. It’s reflected in the blessing of Birkat HaGomel, recited by those who emerge from danger: “Blessed are you . . . who bestows goodness upon the undeserving and has granted me all good.” It’s a powerful reminder that recovery calls not only for relief, but for gratitude.

Later, the parshah transitions into a discussion of tzara’at, a skin affliction often interpreted by the rabbis as a spiritual consequence of lashon hara—harmful speech. This theme continues into Parshat Metzora, where the afflicted person undergoes not only physical inspection and quarantine, but ultimately, a ritual of release and renewal. A live bird is set free, symbolizing reintegration and new beginnings. Like the mother after childbirth, the metzora is welcomed back into community—restored, renewed.

Though tzara’at may no longer appear on our skin, its lessons linger. Harmful speech still isolates. Gossip still wounds. But just as the body can heal, so too can relationships, when we take responsibility and seek repair. And just as we recite Birkat HaGomel for physical healing, perhaps we might imagine a blessing for the restoration of our words—when our speech turns from tearing down to building up.

Our siddur offers us such a model. Each morning, we begin Pesukei d’Zimra with Baruch She’amar—“Blessed is the One who spoke, and the world came into being.” God’s speech is not destructive, but creative. It builds worlds. If we are made in the divine image, then our words, too, can create. They can comfort, connect, and bless.

So this week, what if we treated our words and our health as equally sacred? What if we offered gratitude not only for physical healing, but for the chance to speak kindly, to start fresh, to repair what was broken? In doing so, we echo both Birkat HaGomel and Baruch She’amar—giving thanks for survival, and honoring the creative holiness within every word.

May our speech be life-giving, our gratitude expansive, and our healing—physical and spiritual—a source of blessing for ourselves and others.

The Sacred Art of Discernment

April 23, 2025April 22, 2025Eve PosenLeave a comment

It’s a fast-paced world, where information is abundant and opinions are often polarized, and the ability to discern truth from falsehood, wisdom from folly, and right from wrong has never been more critical. As we navigate the complexities of our time, as usual, we turn to Torah for guidance.

Parshat Shemini recounts the dramatic events of the eighth day of the Mishkan’s inauguration. The day begins with joy and divine presence, as Aharon and his sons bring offerings, and fire descends from heaven to consume those offerings. However, this moment of holiness is abruptly interrupted by the tragic deaths of Nadav and Avihu, who bring an unauthorized fire before God. Their fate serves as a stark lesson on the boundaries of sacred service.

Later in the parshah, the Torah outlines the dietary laws of kashrut, specifying which animals are permitted for consumption and which are not. The section concludes with the commandment to be holy and distinguish between the pure and impure, reinforcing the idea that holiness requires conscious, thoughtful choices.

The Torah states: “To distinguish between the impure and the pure, and between the living things that may be eaten and the living things that may not be eaten.” (Leviticus 11:47) This verse reminds us that holiness is not accidental—it’s a product of intentional discernment. Just as the Israelites were instructed to differentiate between permitted and forbidden foods, we are tasked with making ethical, spiritual, and moral distinctions in our daily lives.

Parshat Shemini, with its focus on distinguishing between the pure and the impure, teaches the importance of discernment in our lives. This theme is beautifully encapsulated in the blessing:

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, hanoten l’anu binah l’havdil bein hatamei v’hatahor.

“Blessed are you, Adonai our God, sovereign of the universe, who grants us understanding to distinguish between the impure and the pure.”

The blessing hanoten l’anu binah l’havdil bein hatamei v’hatahor reflects this sacred responsibility. It acknowledges that discernment isn’t merely an intellectual exercise but a divine gift. We ask God for the wisdom to see clearly, to separate the essential from the superficial, and to make choices that align with our values.

At this moment in time, when we’re bombarded daily with competing narratives, when justice and truth both feel elusive, we must embrace the responsibility of discernment. Let us commit to seeking clarity in our decisions, ensuring that our actions reflect holiness and integrity. May we use the skill and blessing of discernment wisely, for the betterment of ourselves and the world around us.

Keeping the Fire Alive

April 9, 2025April 9, 2025Eve PosenLeave a comment

In Parshat Tzav, we read about the sacred responsibility of the kohanim to keep the altar’s fire burning continually:

“A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar; it shall not be extinguished.” (Leviticus 6:6)

This verse highlights fire as a divine tool—a force of transformation, dedication, and holiness. The altar’s fire was not just practical; it symbolized a constant connection between the people and God, an eternal flame of faith and service.

We recognize fire’s power beyond the Beit Ha’mikdash. Each week at Havdalah, as Shabbat departs, we recite the blessing:

“Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, borei me’orei ha’esh.”
(Blessed are you, Lord our God, king of the universe, who creates the lights of fire.)

This blessing acknowledges fire’s dual nature—it provides warmth and light but can also destroy. Fire is both a gift and a responsibility.

We know this all too well. The recent wildfires in California reminded us of the devastating consequences of neglecting our duty as stewards of the earth. At the same time, fire is also a force for illumination—scientific advancements, protests for justice, and passionate voices standing up for what is right all represent the “fire” that refuses to go out.

There are the “fires” of hatred and division, but also the fires that can ignite hope—a candle in a dark place, a flame passed from one generation to the next, a community rallying to rebuild.

Parshat Tzav reminds us that fire should not be left untended. Whether it’s the fire of faith, justice, or compassion, we must actively sustain it. If we neglect it, it can burn out or become destructive. It’s up to us to ask: How am I tending my fire? Are we using our passion to bring light, or are we allowing destructive flames to spread? Are we keeping the fire of Torah and tradition alive, ensuring that it burns brightly for future generations?

As we recite Borei me’orei ha’eish at Havdalah, let it be a reminder that we are responsible for how we use fire—both the fire of our world and the fire within us. May we be inspired to nurture flames of peace, learning, and justice, ensuring that our fire, like the one on the altar, never goes out.

Sacrifices and Sustenance

April 2, 2025March 31, 2025Eve PosenLeave a comment

In late February, I was honored to attend a “partners in faith” brunch with Neighborhood House as they kicked off their SW Hope campaign. At this brunch, we discussed the growing food insecurity in our community as well as the lack of resources to meet that need. In particular, I was struck by the lack of accessibility and the restrictions on resources.

Parshat Vayikra opens the book of Leviticus with a detailed description of the korbanot, the offerings brought to the Mishkan. Among them is the Mincha offering, a simple yet meaningful sacrifice made of fine flour, oil, and frankincense. Unlike the animal sacrifices, the Mincha offering was often brought by those who couldn’t afford livestock. It represented a humble, heartfelt gift—an offering of basic sustenance given with devotion.

This theme of gratitude for food and sustenance is also the basis of Hamotzi:

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, hamotzi lechem min ha’aretz.

“Blessed are you, Adonai our God, ruler of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.”

The Mincha offering reminds us that even the most ordinary aspects of life—our daily bread, for example—can be acts of holiness. This lesson feels especially relevant today with global concerns around food security and rising costs of basic necessities.

In response to the alarming news about inflation affecting food prices, supply chain disruptions, and an increasing number of families struggling to afford groceries, communities worldwide have stepped up to support food banks, mutual aid programs, and meal initiatives. This includes the in-house food pantry we’ve set up here in our own congregation. These efforts reflect the spirit of the Mincha offering—transforming something as simple as flour and oil into an expression of care, dignity, and devotion.

Judaism teaches that gratitude must lead to action. When we say Hamotzi, we don’t just acknowledge the bread before us; we recognize that food is not guaranteed, and that we have a role in ensuring that others are nourished too. Just as the Mincha offering was shared in the Mishkan, we are called to share our sustenance with those in need.

This is the lesson of Vayikra and so much of the Torah: holiness is not reserved for grand gestures. It’s found in the simple, everyday acts of giving—whether it’s sharing a meal, supporting a local food pantry, or simply being mindful of the blessing of food.

This Shabbat, as we recite Hamotzi, let’s take a moment to reflect: