Uniquely Me – Parshat Vayikra 5773

Eve PosenLeave a comment

“Well, if Johnny jumped off a bridge, would you do it too?”  You’ve heard this familiar retort and perhaps even used it to try to shed light on the temptations of peer pressure.  The question is posed to prove that sometimes what the group does is not always the right choice for every individual.  The question reminds us that each of us has the ability to make choices for ourselves and our own best interest.  But, this is not always easy, especially when you are young and want more than anything to fit in.  We go to extra lengths to fit in, whether it’s dressing in a way that looks “cool” but really makes us uncomfortable or making a bad judgment call and stealing lipstick from the drugstore or cheating on a test.  We spend a significant amount of time, whether consciously or not, trying to walk the fine line between individual needs and desires and the desire to fit in with the group. 

This week we begin reading sefer Vayikra, the third book of the Torah.  This book is full of rules and laws that delineate types of sacrifices, both communal and individual, the establishment of priests and sacred worship, reminders about what to put into our bodies, how to remain pure, and the consequences that result from breaking these rules.  The tie that binds each of these sections of text together is that of community. 
Sefer Vayikra and our parshah this week begin with God asking Moses to speak to the Israelites.  Chapter 1, verse 2 states “Speak to the children of Israel and you say to them, ‘When a person presents an offering of cattle to the Lord, from the herd or flock should y’all choose.’”  This verse begins by instructing a singular individual and concludes with the plural, speaking to the entire community.  Both individual and communal offerings are required in the text, but the switch mid-verse is peculiar. 
The rabbis warn in Leviticus Rabbah, a 6th-8th century work of commentary, the individual must not be influenced to inauthentic action by the community.  Leviticus Rabbah picks up on the word used in verse 2 for a person, adam, teaching that an “offering must be like that of Adam, belonging to you and not stolen, offered solely to express your love of God and not to impress your neighbors.”  That is to say that while offerings and ritual are meant to be performed in community, the action must be authentic.  Making an offering because you want to appear more generous to the community or to jump on the latest trend of “spiritual practice” because it is what everyone is doing will lead you nowhere, according to our text. 
Rather, performing the mitzvot that are laid out in sefer Vayikra should add to our own unique relationship with God.  An unknown Hasidic master taught that we enter the sanctuary as individuals, but the experience of worship leads us to transcend our separateness and become part of the community. 
The central part of the book of Vayikra is known as the holiness code, which describes the ways in which an individual behaves ethically and morally.  Holiness, according to our text, is being yourself, your truest and best self.  That’s truly the easiest way to live a life full of honor and blessings.
THIS TOO IS TORAH:  We actually refer to Vayikra indirectly every time we read from the Torah as a community.  During the Torah reading, a Kohen is called to approach (k’rav) to have the first aliah, just as the priests in old times would approach (k’rav) to perform the duties of the sacrificial service.

photo credit: fotologic via photopin cc

The Bigger Person – Parshat Vayakhel-Pekudei 5773

Eve PosenLeave a comment

One of my clearest memories of my time playing softball as a kid was the end of the game.  If my team had won the game, then we all had to go shake the hands of the team that lost before we could celebrate.  If we lost, we had to go congratulate the winner.  The coaches always reminded us about our sportsmanship if we lost and how to be a gracious winner if we won.  Not the easiest concepts growing up. Sometimes you don’t want to be the bigger person; sometimes you just want to pout, feel sorry for yourself, or even begrudge the person or team that won. 

Even as adults we sometimes struggle with this, albeit in different situations.  As we learn in the Torah and in our lives, how a person responds when it comes to competition reveals a great deal about his character.  Our Biblical narrative up until this week has shown our leaders don’t always act with unflinching integrity.  Abraham asks his wife to lie to save himself, Jacob steals a blessing from his brother, and Noah gets drunk and then causes his sons to sin.  Then we get to Moses.  Now Moses is not always perfect, but in this week’s Torah portions, Vayakhel-Pekudei, we see the true depth of Moses’s character.
In chapter 40, verses 15-16, God commands Moses to go and anoint his nephews, Aaron’s sons, as priests for the community.  God tells Moses to do for his nephews as he had done for his brother, and Moses complies.  Imagine being in Moses’s shoes and being asked to promote your nephews over your own sons.  Moses doesn’t put up a fight or ask why not his own sons, he simply does what God asks him to do and moves on. 
In this moment, Moses shows the greatness of his character and his love for his brother by anointing his nephews with the same purpose and intention as he anointed their father.  Etymologically, to go from humility to humiliation is not much of a stretch, but for Moses to choose humility in honoring his nephews instead of humiliating them by disobeying God means a world of difference.
We show true love when we can rejoice in the good fortune of others even when it’s an experience we ourselves may never know.  To be like Moses, to be a leader who celebrates with someone else when you are hurting, is truly what it means to be a part of a community. 
THIS TOO IS TORAH: The Hebrew words for “a humble person” and for “grape” are spelled slightly differently, but are both pronounced “anav.”  Some scholars have drawn a connection between grapes and humility because grapes are valued in a bunch, not individually. And grapes are worth more when they are squeezed into wine, just as a person’s true worth might be revealed when she is under pressure.

photo credit: nixter via photopin cc

What Goes Around – Parshat Ki Tissa 5773

Eve PosenLeave a comment

Racecar.  A man, a plan a canal: Panama.  Eve.  Each of these is a palindrome, spelled the same way forwards and backwards.  Ever since the day I figured out my name was a palindrome, I have been on the lookout for others.  I even convinced my parents to name my sister Hannah with an extra “h” (originally it was Hanna) so we could both be palindromes.  Palindromes are uncommon, once you move past the ordinary ones like “mom” and “dad.”  Interestingly though, both of those words are actually palindromes in Hebrew too.  When I discover palindromes and other linguistic oddities, I find myself looking for added meaning, which is why this week’s parshah brings out my inner geek.  

Parshat Ki Tissa begins in chapter 30, verses 12-14, “When you take a census of the Israelite people according to their enrollment, they should give the Lord a ransom for himself on being enrolled, that no plague may come upon them through their being enrolled.  This is what everyone who is entered into the records shall pay: a half-shekel by the sanctuary weight.”  Two words in these verses jump out. 
The word for “they shall give” is ונתנו (v’natnu).  If you look at the Hebrew letters vav, nun, taf, nun, vav, you will see that it is a palindrome.  The Torah teaches that giving is a cycle.  Here, we give to show our membership to the community and show our membership to this group of people.  But the rabbis teach that the reason this word is palindromic is because we should be giving as we might receive.  Being a part of the community means that throughout all of life’s ups and downs, we will be supporting others as we ourselves are supported.   
The second word that brings layers of meaning with it is “Half a shekel,” מחצית (mechatzit).  While this word is not a palindrome, it does carry a significant teaching.  The first letter and last letter,mem and taf, combine to spell the word met, which means death.  The second and penultimate letters combine to spell chai, which means life.  The middle letter, tzadi, is the first letter of the Hebrew word tzedakah which, in one sense, has come to mean giving charity. 
In this text a half shekel literally meant the difference between life and death for those who were counted in the census for the military.  Today, we read these words and understand that the way we give and the way we receive can be the difference between life and death to some in our community. 
Parshat Ki Tissa holds in it a pivotal moment in our narrative.  The text reminds us of the incident of the golden, masked calf, where the Israelites lost faith and created an image to worship.  Their fear and lack of faith angers and frustrates God.  God wants to destroy the nation, and Moshe has to step in and intervene.  This is a Moshe who has now accepted the responsibility of protecting the people.  There is a give and take when we each take responsibility for one another, and this is a theme found throughout the parshah.  The first four psukim of Ki Tissa teach us this deep lesson in a profound way. 
THIS TOO IS TORAH: We still have a census taken periodically today.  What do you think is different about the kind of census taken in the time of the Torah and the kind taken today?  What question do you think should be asked as part of the Dallas Jewish Community census?  I’ll leave you with this palindrome question to ponder: Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era?

photo credit: Scott Beale via photopin cc

Wise Beyond Your Years – Parshat Tetzaveh 5773

Eve PosenLeave a comment

People are by nature curious.  When we’re young we want to know everything, and sometimes we think that we do.  If a child overhears an adult conversation and asks to understand what the grownups are talking about, the response might be “You’ll understand when you’re older.”  It’s not a satisfying explanation to a child, but it has an underlying message.  The fact is that there are some things in life that you just can’t understand until you’ve lived through them, and there are other things you might never understand.  As we mature we acquire different types of wisdom, including experience and “book” learning.  And at various stages of life, we may rely on one type of wisdom or a combination of them to navigate our way through certain situations.

In parshat Tetzaveh, the Torah portion we read this week, God gives the commandments for what clothing the priests will wear, how they should be fashioned, and the materials that should be used in their fashioning.  The priests are set to wear special clothing that distinguishes them from others in the service of God.  These clothes are meant to add an aura of holiness to the priests as they complete their work.  Since these vestments and garments are to be used for such a unique purpose, God gives a special instruction regarding who is to make them. 
Chapter 28, verse 3 of the book of Exodus states: “Next you shall instruct all who are skillful, whom I have endowed with the gift of skill, to make Aaron’s vestments for consecrating him to serve Me as priest.”  The Hebrew phrase that we translate as “skillful” is chochmei lev, which literally means “wise of heart.”  God commands that a person who is wise of heart, someone with the emotional maturity that comes with both age and experience, take part in fashioning the priestly garments.  This wisdom is different from intellectual knowledge.  God specifically looks for a person whose heart and mind are working in tandem to aid in fashioning holiness.
This instruction from God teaches us that there are certain actions and certain deeds that are best suited for specific levels of maturity and certain types of wisdom.  It’s a good reminder that we usually take age appropriateness into consideration for a reason, whether it’s for reading, playing, or certain privileges that older children may enjoy before younger siblings.  True holiness comes not from striving to be better or smarter or more experienced than someone else, but from making the most of the knowledge you have and embracing every opportunity to learn more.
THIS TOO IS TORAH:  A version of the term “wise of heart” also appears in Mishley (Proverbs). It’s part of the verse that serves as the source of the title of Inherit the Wind, a play about the 1925 Scopes “Monkey” Trial.
“He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind; and the foolish shall be servant to the wise of heart.”
What do you think this verse is warning against?

photo credit: Mr. T in DC via photopin cc

Instant Gratification – Parshat Terumah 5773

Eve PosenLeave a comment

Plenty of us have had this experience.  You’re setting up a new game or toy with (or for) a child.  As you near the end, you realize that one of the important pieces is missing.  The piece is most likely mixed in with another puzzle or toy and the chances of finding it are slim to none.  Without this piece the game won’t work.  It’s frustrating to be in this situation.  If you take a piece from another game or toy to try and work out a solution, you know you’ll find yourself in a similar predicament the next time you go to use that toy.  You have a choice to make: you can either risk the frustration you’ll feel later for the satisfaction you’ll feel now in completing the game, or you can try to come up with another creative solution that doesn’t take away from any other toys.    

Parshat Terumah, the Torah portion this week, tells us of the thousand-piece puzzle the Israelites are building known as the Tabernacle.  The text lists all the materials needed for the building, including gold, silver, copper, fabrics, dyes, and of course wood.  Throughout the process it seems that the Israelites are generous with their gifts.  If you read closely, you’ll note two odd materials.  The first is the mention of dolphin skins in chapter 25, verse 5.  The Israelites are in the middle of the desert, so finding dolphins is a bit of a stretch.  Linguists tell us that the Hebrew word for dolphin actually used to refer to dyed sheep or goat leather. 
The other odd material is acacia wood.  These trees are not native to the Sinai wilderness and would have been difficult to find and schlep all this way.  The Tanchuma, a 4th century collection of commentary, suggests that these were planted by Jacob on his way to Egypt, foreseeing that one day his grandchildren would need them.  He did this act with no immediate benefit to himself, but for the future generations. 
Furthermore, the acacia tree is not a fruit bearing tree.  God’s commandment to use this wood meant that the immediate need of building the Ark would not destroy future fruit harvests.  In building the Ark, the Israelites could have used the readily available wood of fruit trees, and the job would have been done.  Instead of the easy way out, they were commanded to take the extra step and use a tree that would not cause harm to future generations. 
The building of the Ark is a model for building our communities now.  We have the choice daily to do what is best for only us and our immediate needs or to invest in the future.  Like the Tabernacle we too are made up of many parts but form one harmonious community when we add our own piece of the puzzle.  Parshat Terumah reminds us that we must look at the bigger picture and make decisions not based on instant gratification, but ones that will endow future generations with Jewish living, learning, and love.
THIS TOO IS TORAH: Acacia, which can help in land reclamation and erosion control, is known for its resilience.  I can’t help but compare this plant family to the Jewish people, who survive and flourish through our resilience.

photo credit: echerries via photopin cc