Chain Reactions – Parshat Mishpatim 5774

As a new parent, I am acutely aware of sleep schedules, loud noises, and the rhythm of life.  I know that my stress or anxiety might have repercussions when it comes to my daughter’s mood.  If I bring home anxiety, it might stress out my husband, which might lead to an argument, which will wake the baby.  Or perhaps something or someone catches the attention of our labrador Stanley, and his bark wakes up the baby.  Never before have I been more aware of the relationship between individual actions.

Parshat Mishpatim, our Torah portion this week, is based on the notion that actions inspire other actions.  The text begins with laws dealing with Hebrew workers and the if/then sequence determining how long a worker stays with his or her owner and what obligations the owner has to the workers based on their own family status.  The text continues to discuss laws dealing with accidental harm versus intentional harm caused to others, followed by the consequences of stealing, and then ends with the covenant that God makes with the children of Israel at Mount Sinai.  Each of these laws is based on a reaction for an initial act.

In the midst of laws about how to treat Hebrew workers, we receive a decree about Shabbat.  The text reads in chapter 23,verse 12 “Six days you will do your work and on the seventh you will rest so that your ox and donkey will rest and your maidservant and the stranger will rest.”  This verse expands on the motivation expressed earlier in the Torah for a day of rest on the seventh day.  Moreover, the text gives us a new reason to rest.  In the Decalogue in last week’s parshah, the reason for resting is given as an imperative to be like God; we rest because God rested.  In parshat Mishpatim the reasoning goes beyond connection to God.

The text teaches us that rest is a necessity not just for us as individuals, but for the land and for our community. Verse 12 reminds us that if we don’t rest, others around us won’t rest.  Think back to a time when you shared a bedroom, a college dorm room, or camp bunk. The rhythm of life in these situations depended on each person being respectful of the other’s needs.  If you had work to finish late at night, you might have used a different room or the computer lab instead of insisting that the lights stayed on all night, keeping your roommate up.  This is what the Torahis talking about this week.

In Biblical times if the master didn’t take a day to rejuvenate, then the workers would feel the need to continue working, and when this happened no one felt healthy or rested, and chaos would quickly ensue.  Our actions cause reactions.  We must rest so that others will also have the ability to rest.   We are asked to give one another a break every week, understanding that every human being and living thing needs to rejuvenate their spirit. This week we are reminded once again that our decisions have meaning well beyond our own lives; they can have an impact on the world.  What positive impact will you make?

Everything Old is New Again – Parshat Yitro 5774

Think about the last time you watched your favorite movie.  You’ve probably seen it 100 times, yet each time you watch it you find something new to enjoy like foreshadowing that wasn’t obvious before or minute aspects of an intimate relationship that were easy to overlook.  Your experience and love of the movie isn’t diminished because you’ve seen it again and again; it’s enriched.  In the school world, at a certain point students realize that review is a part of the necessary work during the year.  At the beginning of the year, review is especially helpful to get the brain turned back on to learning and to help the students draw upon information they previously learned.  Later in the year, it’s helpful for students to look back and see what they’ve learned.

Review, the process of going over something again and again, also serves a deeper purpose.  This week we read parshat Yitro, perhaps one of the most famous portions in the entire Torah.  The central piece of the portion is the giving of the Ten Commandments by God to Moshe and the people Israel.  We now have a set of laws to live by, a guide towards being a people outside of slavery.  But, before the Torah instructs us in these laws, it reminds us of the family relationship Moshe has with his father-in-law and how he sets up a legal system.

In chapter 19, verse 1, the Torah subtly reminds Moshe (and the modern reader) of the importance of being present.  The text reads, “On the third day of the children of Israel’s going out from Egypt, on that day they came to the wilderness of Sinai.”  The medieval commentator Rashi notices, on a closer read, that the text is redundant.  Why does it give us the date and then say again, “on that day”?  It would have been sufficient to just give either the date or say on that day.  Rashi answers his question by teaching that the Torah uses this phraseology to remind us that this day was unique, and moreover, every day is unique.

Rashi expands his comment to the Ten Commandments that come after this.  We read the Commandments for the first time in this parshah, but read them again in Deuteronomy as the Torah narrative comes to an end.  The Torah includes the Commandments twice because we read the words anew each time our brain processes them.  Rashi explains that “on this day” means that each day, every day, is a day when we accept Torah, and each reading should be like we’re hearing it in a new way for a new time.

Using this logic we learn that while we may read the Torah over and over again, it is always something new.  While we might have to review our multiplication facts before moving on to other math functions, we know that taking the time to review it means solidifying the knowledge and making a new connection to it.  Rashi asks us to view the Torah similarly to how we would a favorite book or movie.  To read it over and over again is a way of renewing our covenant, our promise to follow through and to see our heritage with fresh eyes.  Most importantly, parshat Yitro reminds us to truly see each day as an opportunity to learn something new, each experience, no matter how mundane or repetitive, as a worthwhile connection to knowing ourselves and our world deeper.

The Long Road Home – Parshat Beshalach 5774

In the months preparing for the birth of our first child, I found myself drawn into several parenting books and blogs that offered suggestions for surviving the inevitable lack of sleep I’d soon be experiencing.  I asked my own mom how she comforted me when I was a baby in the hope that I would develop a foolproof strategy for getting the baby (and us) to sleep.  One of the most often suggested strategies was the road trip, even if it just meant circling the block a few times.  There is something about the way the movement of the car rocks a baby to sleep that feels like magic.  Of course, sometimes this means taking the long road home on purpose just to gain some peace and quiet.

The goal of a little peace and quiet is no different in this week’s Torah portion, parshat Beshalach, and interestingly the solution is similar as well.  This week we find the children of Israelon their journey out of Egypt into the wilderness.  The Egyptians run after them, but God stepsin and saves them.  Like life with a toddler, the Israelites’ journey is a mix between awe and wonder at the new, free world around them and temper tantrums directed at God for any particular hardship.  Witnessing this behavior, God realizes that a short “point A to point B” ride in the car (or trek in the desert) isn’t going to make them appreciate the Promised Land more, so the Israelites are sent the long way to get to Israel.

Ibn Ezra picks up on the new, longer route and suggests that the reasoning behind this is that God did not want the Israelites to arrive at the Promised Land too soon.  Having been slaves all their lives, they would not have been prepared to conquer Canaan until they had a lengthy experience of freedom.  Simply put, the Israelites needed time to stretch their legs; they’d been enslaved far too long to understand real freedom. Entering Israel too quickly would leave them without a true sense of the gift they had received.

On the other hand, Rambam takes this notion of a long arduous journey to mean that God was letting the Israelites cry it out. The long trek was God’s way of making them accustomed to the hardships they would encounter as they entered the land.

An earlier commentary found in the Babylonian Talmud in tractate Eiruvin suggests a combination of these two ideas.  “There is a long way which is short and a short way which is long.” The Talmud is saying that both philosophies, the soothing car ride and the long, fussy road, can both be beneficial.

Most importantly, learning that the Israelites took the long route teaches us that easy isn’t always better.   Had God led them hastily into the land, they would have become too complacent about their freedom and would immediately expect the next big, grand gesture from God.  In the end, the Israelites learned to better appreciate what God had done for them and how to recover from mistakes made along the way.  Ultimately, it isn’t about whether the road is long or short; it’s about making sure the journey means as much as the destination.

When God Has Your Back – Parshat Shemot 5774

Self-doubt,negative self-image, low self-esteem. These issues seem to surface more and more among adults and children alike today.  When was the last time a new challenge or opportunity came your way and your first thought was “I can never do this”?  Or when did you last look in the mirror and instead of seeing a beautiful and healthy human being,you saw only flaws and were quick to point out every imperfection?  Our own negativity creates a vacuum in our incredible potential as human beings and leaves a void in its place.  So why do we let our internal voices put us down?

Our parshah this week, parshat Shemot, which begins the second book of the Torah,illustrates for us how skewed our own perception of self can be.  This parshah serves as the turning point between the leadership of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob to that of Moshe.  Shemot leads us quickly through the change in leadership in Egypt as a new Pharaoh who isn’t so keen on the Israelites decrees that all males born should be put to death.  Thankfully the midwives ignore this decree,and Moshe is kept alive.  As an adopted Egyptian, Moshe joins the palace but later learns he’s an Israelite.  He flees out of fear for his life, marries a Midianite woman, and becomes a father. It takes an unusual interaction with God for Moshe to become a leader to his actual people and confront his former grandfather figure with the support of a God he has only recently learned about. Talk about a whirlwind series of events.

Moshe’s infamous call to leadership in the form of a burning bush, as bizarre as it seems, is still not enough to erase the doubts in Moshe’s mind.  He is told he will be the leader of a nation of people and that his life will now be devoted to freeing that nation – his nation- from bondage.  The Torah makes clear Moshe’s thoughts on this turn of fate: “Please, O Lord, I have never been a man of words, either in times past or now that You have spoken to Your servant; I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.” Moshe is begging God to pick a different leader.  With his rock-bottom self-esteem, Moshe does not see himself as a leader and makes it a point to elaborate on his flaws.

But God, being God, doesn’t let up.  “Who gives man speech?  Who makes him dumb or deaf, seeing or blind?  Is it not I, the Lord?  Now go, and I will be with you as you speak and will instruct you what to say.” It’s an interesting illustration of how it’s not enough for us to believe in God.  God has to believe in us.  God reminds Moshe that even with his perceived flaws, with God’s support, he will be successful.

Perhaps the Torah is trying to teach us that no matter what limitations we see in ourselves, God sees only the possibilities. And we can use that little bit of divine spark within us to prove to others they possess the same potential.

The Ultimate Mitzvah – Parshat Vayechi 5774

“Could you do me a favor?”  They are probably some of the most dreaded words in the English language.  It only takes the first few syllables before you begin coming up with a list of excuses to get out of the task.  On the flip side, the asker also has something at stake.  Besides the guilt of imposing on a friend’s busy schedule, there’s the realization that at some point you might ask them the same question and they’ll be indebted to you to say yes.  A helping hand can mean the world, but it places a burden on both parties.

The Torah is filled with favors – people helping each other out to get something accomplished.  Think about Abraham buying land for burial or asking Sarai to pretend to be his sister; these are favors that help solve problems for Abraham and Sarah. Joseph interpreting a dream for Pharaoh began as a favor and led to hisgreatness and promotion.

Our parshah this week, parshat Vayechi, the last in the first book of the Torah, Bereshit, teaches us about the ultimate favor asked.  The parshah is centered around the death of Jacob, the blessings he gives to his grandchildren, and the mourning that the brothers do for their father.  It then takes a turn and focuses on Joseph mending the final pieces of his relationship with his brothers.  But the central focus of our text is thedeath of Jacob, the death of Joseph, and what each one asks of his loved ones before he dies.  In chapter 47, verse 29,it says: “And when the time approached for Israel (Jacob) to die, he summoned his son Joseph and said to him, ‘Do me this favor, place your hand under my thigh as a pledge of your steadfast loyalty; please do not bury me in Egypt.’”   At the end of the parshah, Joseph makes a similar request to his brothers.

When Jacob makes this request, he uses the words Chesed v’emet, which I have translated above to mean steadfast loyalty, but they also mean in their most literal sense “true kindness.”  Jacob and Joseph both ask a favor at the endof their lives.  Of course this is adifferent kind of favor.  It isn’t picking up the kids at school or covering a class.  This favor is one that they have no intention of ever paying back to those who perform it for them.  A mitzvah of true kindness is one that has no reciprocal favor anticipated.  This text asserts that one of the only mitzvot that can be defined this way is caring for the dead.  In this case, those who uphold Jacob’s and Joseph’s request understand that there is no tangible reward for this favor.

But the parshah also reminds us that perhaps we shouldn’t wait until our loved ones are gone to fulfill this level of mitzvah, to do something without the expectation of reward or reciprocity.  The name of our parshah, Vayechi, means “and he lived.” Favors can be good, but often come with the expectation of a return.  This Shabbat imagine what it would be like to live in a world where each action was done for its own purpose, not because of what you receive in return, and then challenge yourself to act with chesed v’emet, ultimate kindness.