What Goes Around – Parshat Ki Tissa 5773

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?

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Wise Beyond Your Years – Parshat Tetzaveh 5773

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?

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Instant Gratification – Parshat Terumah 5773

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.

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The Choice is Yours – Parshat Misphatim 5773

When I was in high school, our principal would start everyday by reading from “Project Wisdom,” a series of quotations about specific values.  You might remember these from Levine and Friday morning Shabbat celebrations.  Each one ends with the line: “With something to think about, this is Rabbi Posen. Make it a great day or not, the choice is yours.”  Ultimately, while teaching about values and responsibilities, these little moments of wisdom reminded us each day that we all have a choice to make.  We can choose to have a great day, or we can chose to dwell on the negative.  We can choose to let go of resentment, or we can choose to let it fester.  Choice is a freedom we are afforded as Americans, and as we learn when we mature, we are held accountable for each choice we make.
Parshat Mishpatim, our parshah this week, shifts from the narrative of Moshe and the Israelites in the desert to a steady stream of laws and rules for living in the world.  The substance of thisparshah deals with criminal matters, humanitarian considerations, divine promises, warnings against assimilation, and the ratification of the covenant between God and the Israelites.  These laws come as a continuation from the Decalogue given in last week’s parshah and aim to teach the newly freed nation of Israel about their responsibility as a society.
The first set of laws focuses on laws of workers, referred to as “slaves” in the Torah.  These are not the same as slaves kept under Egyptian rule, but rather those who work for a fixed period of time to repay a debt or as a result of bankruptcy.  This model set forth beginning in chapter 21 of sefer Shemot tells us that workers are to be treated as human beings, and in these laws we read that consideration must also be given to a worker’s family.   
The Torah also provides us with a term limit for a worker, “A worker should serve six years; in the seventh year he shall go free without payment.”  This verse teaches that emancipation is the right of the slave and that no compensation is due to the master.  At this time, a worker may decide whether or not they wish to remain with their master.  Some might be intimidated by the prospect of freedom; others would embrace it.  The choice is theirs. 
Just as the newly free Israelites were given boundaries by God with our calendar in parshat Bo, so too a worker is given the choice to decide a future after servitude.  The Torah teaches that to be fully human, people must take responsibility for their own lives.  Our “Project Wisdom” quote for the week:  Today, take the time to make a list of the principles you believe in, your own special rules for how you want to be the best person you can be.  Then think about how those principles help you make better choices.  With something to think about, this is Rabbi Posen.  Make it a great day…or not.  The choice is yours. 
THIS TOO IS TORAH: Pirkei Avot (Chapters of the Fathers) is our tradition’s original Project Wisdom. With familiar sayings like “The world stands on three things: Torah, service, and acts of loving kindness (1:2),” this part of the Mishnah is made up of a series of ethical principles that are less concerned with legal opinions than with aphorisms for how to live good lives.

Never Any Time – Parshat Yitro 5773

I grew up watching “Saved by the Bell,” that classic afternoon sitcom featuring tanned California teens as they navigated those troublesome – and endlessly comical – teenage years.  Ask any adult of my generation which episode comes to mind first, and the answer will likely be the episode in which Jessie, the perfect, straight A head of student council, feels overburdened by the pressure to get everything done.  She becomes addicted to caffeine pills and has a nervous breakdown in which she professes “There’s no time, there’s never any time!”  Jessie struggles with the familiar problem of having so much to do and no time to do it.  I think this episode stuck with me all these years because it’s easy to relate to the out-of-control feeling that comes when there are overwhelming deadlines to meet.  And we tend to punish ourselves by skipping a meal, staying home instead of going out with a friend, and just driving ourselves mad with frustration.

We often get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of life, of wanting everything to get done, that we forget to take care of ourselves.  Our parshah this week, Yitro, sends us this important reminder.  We read about Moshe, the leader of the Israelite nation, struggling to do it all on his own.  Just when Moshe appears to be dealing with – among other things – time management issues, God sends down the Ten Commandments.  When God gives us the ten holy utterances, they serve as a blueprint for our own lives.  They focus on balancing belief and spirituality with physical needs and relationships with our neighbors. 
Specifically, commandment number four reminds us of the importance of taking a break.  Chapter 20, verses 8-11 instruct us to have Shabbat: “Remember the Shabbat day, to keep it holy.  Six days you should work, and do all your work; but the seventh day is the Shabbat of God your God; in it you shall not do any work…”  God commands us to take a break, and ends this commandment by teaching that even God, the all-powerful creator of the world, needed a break once a week. 
We are often striving for more: to do more, be more, learn more, but we forget to reflect on the cost of trying to pack our lives with wall-to-wall activity.  It’s especially tough when we reach new stages in our lives to find the balance.  As a first year rabbinical student, I struggled with getting all of my work done and getting good grades, along with staying on top of my personal life.  I was pretty much a wreck until one of my teachers sat me down and taught me Rashi’s comment on the 6th commandment: everyone needs a day of rest.  Rashi teaches us that the work we get done is the work we are meant to finish.  If it isn’t done, then we weren’t meant to get there.  Rashi urges us beyond our fear of losing control and asks us to recognize our imperfect mortality.  Shabbat is a time not only to kindle Shabbos candles, but to rekindle the relationships, traditions, and connections that truly make us human.
THIS TOO IS TORAH: Some people and communities support “commerce-free days” to encourage people to take a short break from shopping and digital life in order to recharge and refocus. Sounds a lot like Shabbat, doesn’t it?

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