Expecting Perfection – Parshat Beha’alotcha 5775

Eve PosenLeave a comment

Expecting Perfection

Leaders are human, which means they have flaws. I think we can agree on this basic principle. But why do their flaws seem so much bigger? Political mistakes and indiscretions are headline news, and corporate CEOs have their every misstep dissected and commented on. Is it possible that we elect and promote people more flawed than we are? Or has their position of power affected their ability to judge circumstances and consequences?

These are both possibilities, but likelier still it’s our instant, digital world that has given us the ability to know everything about everyone which has altered our perspective. And because we hold our leaders to a higher standard, the lesser qualities are magnified much more than the greater qualities.

This week we read parshat Beha’alotcha, a turning point in our narrative.  This section of text begins with instruction for the purification of the Levites as they do their holy work in the Tabernacle. We read about the first Passover sacrifice in the wilderness and how to celebrate Passover if we miss it the first time around.  Then the text turns toward the Tabernacle, the Mishkan, and teaches us that God’s presence hovers over it in a cloud.  Finally, Moshe’s family – his father-in-law, wife, and children – return to join him and the rest of the Israelite nation on their journey through the wilderness.  It is in the return of his family to the camp that we learn about what unrealistic expectations have been levied against Moshe.

Chapter twelve begins with Miriam and Aaron gossiping about their brother.  “. . . he married a Cushite woman. They said, ‘Has the Lord spoken only through Moses? Has He not spoken through us as well?’  The Lord heard it.  Now Moses was a very humble man, more so than any other man on earth.”

There’s no question sibling rivalry goes back as far as the Torah.  Miriam and Aaron clearly don’t believe that Moshe married the “right” woman for him, and it sounds like they don’t believe he is worthy of being the leader. But why is this?  According to Rashi, Miriam isn’t necessarily upset about the type of woman that Moshe married, but in her eyes, he did not deliver as an appropriate husband.  Miriam is more upset that her brother put his leadership responsibilities above his family responsibilities.

In the line, “Moses was a very humble man, more so than any other man on early,” literally the words used are “the man Moses.”  Perhaps to emphasize that Moshe is only human.  Miriam and Aaron have expectations of their brother – someone who is holy, a leader, and a father – that simply aren’t attainable.  Even Moshe, the man who brought us out from Egypt with God and the man who stood up to Pharaoh, is imperfect; he is human.

Parshat Beha’alotcha reminds us that we are all human, we are all fallible, and we are all imperfect.  God brings a harsh punishment to Moshe’s siblings to make a statement about unrealistic expectations and the way they can bring down a community. Expectations of perfection leave you wide open for failure and frustration. This week we know that our job is to accept each other for who we are, flaws and all.

I Forgive Me – Parshat Naso 5775

Eve PosenLeave a comment

I Forgive Me

When it comes to the art of asking for forgiveness, there’s nothing worse than a canned apology. You know the kind I’m talking about. A politician reading a few lines of carefully scripted empathy off a teleprompter or a business owner covering up for something that was “taken out of context.” The real problem with a fake “I’m sorry” is that even if it appeases those who were wronged, it carries no weight for the person apologizing. You see, when you’re to blame, the first person you must ask forgiveness from is yourself. Only then can you accept the feelings of guilt that help you to change.

As we read parshat Naso this week, we read about the Israelite society trying to move forward after leaving Egypt and the establishment of a successful community.  The narrative picks up with a second counting of the people; laws about how we are to treat one another and the property that we own; the blessing of the priests to the people; and the laws of the Nazir, detailing how we might dedicate ourselves directly to God.

Chapter 5, verse 7 focuses in on the notion of confession.  “He shall confess the wrong that he has done.”  While this sounds straightforward enough, the “confession” is loaded with ritual and with meaning. The Hebrew word used for confession is “hitvadu.”  This is in the reflexive form, which suggests that we must confess to ourselves the wrong that we have done.  Confessing to ourselves, and even forgiving ourselves, is essential in moving forward and growing as humans.

Too often as parents, children, siblings, and teachers, we only halfway apologize for our mistakes. We publicly ask for forgiveness, but we never truly move forward by personally taking ownership of those wrongdoings.  We give lip service to our wrongs, but don’t learn anything from them.  The text this week reminds us that in order to properly confess, and to properly forgive, we must forgive and believe it first ourselves.

One of the essential tools of the rabbinical trade is a thick skin.  This isn’t just because of the pastoral duties, which require a specific temperament. It’s also because as someone who must choose words carefully, I tend to be hardest on myself when my words fall short. Maybe I wasn’t able to respond to a question fast enough or I wasn’t able to be there physically when you needed me. I take these moments to heart and often hold onto them  longer than I should. You may have even forgiven me before I have forgiven myself.

Here’s my promise to you: I will work on forgiving myself if you promise to work on forgiving yourself too. After all, that’s precisely the point of including the concept of hitvadu in this community-building portion of the Torah. Confession is just one building block of a fruitful relationship, and it’s our relationships that create the society we want.

[photo credit: Sorry in Sydney, Australia -sky writing, National Apology Day , National Sorry Day 2015 “such unthinkable theft” via photopin (license)]

Piece By Piece – Parshat Bamidbar 5775

Eve Posen1 Comment

Piece By Piece

I am the first to admit that I have a touch of OCD. I can’t stand to see things unfinished. Parenthood has only exacerbated this affliction. Before I go to bed every night I have to make sure that Shiri’s toys are all put away, which means locating every ball and puzzle piece and making sure everything is assembled and in its proper place. Laundry time creates a similar anxiety. Missing socks are simply unacceptable; every sock should be in a pair. I have a tendency towards order instead of chaos, and I have a deep desire to make sure everything is accounted for and correctly placed. And yes, I have been known to tear the house apart looking for a small colored piece of plastic.

We often know our space by the way we set it up. Well all have routines, regardless of our level of obsession in sticking to them. You keep your books in a certain order or you sleep on the same side of the bed or you have a particular way you like to set up a new phone or computer. There is a calm and peacefulness to order, about which the Torah is acutely aware. This week we begin reading sefer Bamidbar, the fourth book of the Torah. Sefer Bamidbar begins with a census of the people and tells us more intimate details about the daily life of the Israelites as they camped out in the desert. Specifically in parshat Bamidbar we learn not only of the number of Israelites in the camp (603,550) but also of the main setup of the camp. Earlier in the Torah in parshat Yitro, we learn that the Israelites camped around Mount Sinai and the mountain that God had chosen was the center of their camp. In the middle of the camp is the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, where the stone tablets with the 10 Commandments are kept and where God dwells among the people.

Everything has its place, even in the ever-moving, nomadic camp of the Israelites. The census at the beginning of our parshah teaches that there were 603,550 Israelites in the camp. According to Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev, a Torah commentator, this is also the number of letters in the Torah. Yitzchak teaches that just as the absence of one letter renders a Torah scroll unfit for use, the loss of even one Jew prevents Israel from fulfilling its divine mission.

We all count; without any one of us, our community and our Jewish world are incomplete. Parshat Bamidbar teaches us not to count one another, but to count on one another in order to build a strong and sustaining community. Here at Neveh Shalom, whether you find your place on the finance committee or ritual committee, whether your place is teaching in our school or sitting in the pew on Shabbat, we are simply a better synagogue because your place is here with us.

[photo credit: Project 365 #86: 270311 On Good Form via photopin (license)]

Same Old Same Old – Parshat Behar Behukotai 5775

Eve Posen2 Comments

Same Old

According to author Ruby K. Payne, there is a difference between what she labels “situational poverty” and “generational poverty.” In her book A Framework for Understanding Poverty, she explains that situational poverty is the result of a specific incident within the lifetime of the person in poverty, and generational poverty is a cycle that passes from generation to generation.

The problem with generational poverty is that cycles that perpetuate and feed on themselves are inherently harder to break. It’s one thing when an outside force is impacting a situation; if that force or cause can be removed, the problem has the potential to be fixed. It’s another thing when, like in the cases of poverty or lack of access to resources and education, it’s the problem that is both the cause and the result.

This week we read a double Torah portion, Behar-Behokotai. These two portions of Torah make up the final chapters of the book of Leviticus. Parshat Behar focuses on letting the land rest. We learn about the return of land during the 50th year and the cycle of workers and loans. In parshat Behukotai we read about the blessings that God will bestow upon the Israelites in exchange for following the laws of the Torah, and the rebuke and curses that will come if they don’t. Tied up in both of these narratives is the idea of security – financial and physical.

Chapter 26, verse 5 states, “Your threshing shall overtake the vintage, and your vintage shall overtake the sowing; you shall eat your fill of bread and dwell securely in your land.” This is the pact that God makes with the Israelites: adherence to a set of ethical laws for homeland security and sustenance. These two needs of sustenance and security go hand in hand. “When will people be able to live securely?” asks the Torah. When there is enough food for everyone so that no one is driven to crime or violence for lack of food. Security and food are intimately connected. Sustenance is a blessing that can determine how safe we feel in our own society.

The two Torah portions this week remind us that there is a clear advantage in the security we feel when our cycle is a positive one, and that a negative cycle does considerable damage beyond just those immediately affected. I would encourage us all to take just a minute to imagine interrupting a negative cycle somewhere – what would it take and what could be the outcome?

Ahead of Schedule – Parshat Emor 5775

Eve Posen2 Comments

Ahead of Schedule

Get ready to despise me. Time management has always been my strong suit. In school I was always two weeks ahead in my reading, and I always turned in assignments on time. I live with routine and schedule, and I try to plan out my weeks based on what I have to do and the time it will take to do each task.

Believe me, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows just because I’m a planner. With this ability to plan also comes a bit of a struggle when it comes to spontaneity, altering the plan, or setting aside time to have fun. My planner side has also been known to clash with my parent side. Having a child has put some strain on my time management, and as much as it may frustrate me, I find that sometimes I’m going to be late no matter how well I plan. As a family we try to balance flexibility with our schedule, sometimes staying up late for special occasions and sometimes sticking strictly to our routine, which we have learned is extremely important for our sanity.

My time management and affinity for schedules has served me well as a Jew. We are a people that lives by a calendar, with set times for celebrating, sleeping, mourning, praying, even for acknowledging learning. This point is driven home in the parshah we read this week, parshat Emor. In this section of text, we are reminded about the laws for purification of the priests, the holidays we are to celebrate throughout the year, and the ways in which we are to treat each other and animals.   The majority of these rituals are meant to be done in public, with the entire community a part of them. The time and manner in which each ritual is performed is delineated by the Torah.

In chapter 23, verse 7 the text states, “On the first day you shall celebrate a sacred occasion: you shall not work at your occupations.” Specifically, this text is speaking about Passover; however, we receive a similar commandment for all of our Biblically-based holidays. “You shall do no work.” Aside from a rabbi whose occupation requires “work” on holy days (which is a totally different story) the Torah commands us to take a break. Each holiday, Shabbat included of course, requires that we stop. Often this means we are met with a dilemma. Do we end up taking a lot of days off of work for our religion, or do we try to compromise and do the best we can between our religious and secular worlds?

Jewish festivals ask us to challenge our own identity. Do you define yourself primarily by your work? If so, does that mean your career and daily responsibilities trump times of celebration? Or, do you define yourself by your total person, and if so, does that mean celebrations and sanctified time are coming at the expense of a fulfilling career?

I suggest that the time-outs observed in the Torah are meant to reduce stress, not compound it. They’re designed as reflective periods to be spent with family and community, and it’s up to the individual to find the appropriate life balance. This week we’re reminded that even the strictest of planned schedules needs occasional time out. Celebrating together, eating together, sharing in joy together – these are not just commandments, but a necessary part of sustaining who we are as Jews.