To Learn and to Teach, to Keep and to Do – Parshat Vaetchanan 5771

For those of you who have seen my office, you know that up until a few months ago my University of Michigan flag hung proudly as the centerpiece of artwork on my wall.  In fact, I never consider myself fully settled in a new place until that flag has been put up.  But, in April the flag was moved so that a beautiful piece of art by the artist Mordechai Rosenstein could grace my office.
The piece represents my philosophy of education taken from the prayer, Ahavah Rabbah, which comes before the Shema.  It states:
לִלְמֹד וּלְלַמֵּד, לִשְׁמֹר וְלַעֲשׂוֹת
. . . which means, to learn and to teach, to keep and to do.  I picked this piece of art – and more importantly this phrase – because I think it naturally and accurately teaches the fundamentals of Jewish education.  In Hebrew, the word for “teach” and the word for “learn” come from the same root.  That is to say that at our core we are all learners and teachers.  We learn by watching and listening to one another.  While we have teachers, rabbis and administrators whose job it is to actually and formally teach students, when we listen to one another, and when we share our ideas, we become teachers and others are the students.  Every day we have the opportunity to be both teachers and students.
The second half of the quotation teaches that we are “to keep and to do.”  It is our sacred obligation to guard, preserve and protect what is important to us, and at the same time take an active role in living our lives according to these customs and laws.  In keeping or guarding, we maintain that teaching spreads the tradition from one generation to the next so that it will never die.  The “doing” allows this to happen, and through practice, cements in us memories that carry us forward.
Judaism is a living religion; it is text based, but survived, maintained, taught and glorified through daily practice.  Here at Ann and Nate Levine Academy, we not only teach Judaism, but we promote living in inspired practice of our sacred heritage.  The education we provide here isn’t just from 8-4, but intended to fan the flames of the passion for learning that happens and is practiced in every aspect of life.  The value of learning is a lifelong value in Judaism.  Learning and teaching, keeping and doing are meant to kindle the spark within your soul.  This year, Levine Academy will focus on kindling the spark, the spark of learning, of Judaism and Jewish living, not only in your children, but in you as well.  We will be offering family engagement opportunities, along with parent learning across the grades.
In connection with this theme, my weekly D’var Torah will teach the Torah portion through the lens of action.  The Torah is a moving story, one that tells of generations and how their actions have brought us to this moment today.  Each week I will read and teach the parshah by way of teaching us how we can embrace living Jewishly.  I hope you’ll join me on this journey!
Abraham Joshua Heschel said it best when he called on Jews to take a “leap of action,” to do more than we understand so that we come to understand more than we do. I invite you to join our community of practice, a community that does more than we might understand in order to further our understanding of Judaism.    Please walk with Levine Academy on your journey, and let me know how I can help you.
ללמוד  To Learn: ללמד  To Teach: In this section each week will be one resource for you to use to learn more about the action item of the week.
לשמור  To Keep:  לעשות  To Do:  In this section each week will be an action item, a way to engage with Judaism actively and touch upon Jewish living in your own home.

On a Tisha B’Av Birthday!!

I’ve had a lot of time to think about the impact of a birthday on Tisha B’av.  Today is not only the day where we contemplate the darkness in the world, whether it is the destruction of the Temple or the explusion from Spain, or England, or the stock market down turn, or even the baseless hatred that seems to be ever prevalent in our society.  It is also the day on the Jewish Calendar that 4 years ago I buried my grandfather and little did I know spend one of the last days with my father alive.  And, as I’m always reminded, it is the yahrtzeit of my great grandfather.  As one who tends to remember dates and see commonalities in life events, this all brings me to think about the torn feeling between the darkness of the day and wanting so badly to celebrate my birthday.  
And if this were my 30th birthday, I’m not sure I could find a happy ground.
But, this is 29, and this is just another day.  As the darkness of the world might feel overwhelming at times, the lights last night by which we read Eicha and the lights on my cake after sundown are a welcome source of light into my next year.  
And yes, I am missing my breakfast in bed, and the free food and treats at local restaurants, but those are a luxury.  This birthday I am reminded of the children around the world who spend every birthday without a special treat or a cake.  I am feeling blessed with the friends and family who are here to celebrate with me, with knowing that i know where my next meal will come from, for the blessing of my job and the community that I live in, and knowing that no matter how dark the world feels today, tomorrow is always a new day. 

May We Be Blessed – Parshat Naso 5771


I’ve always been intrigued by the notion of blessing.  I always wanted to be the one who said the magic formula over the bread which suddenly meant we were allowed to eat it, and I always got excited about being chosen at services to hold the Havdallah candle on Saturday nights.  Growing up, I knew that we always blessed inanimate things, and our blessing them somehow turned them from mundane into something extraordinary.  But I never really understood how or why we could bless people.  And I’m not talking about the “bless you” after a sneeze, an old custom which dates back to when serious illness without modern medicine was usually terminal.  What does it really mean for me to bless you or for you to bless me?

This week we read parshat Naso, the second portion in sefer Bamidbar.  It deals with another census of the people, laws about purities within and outside the camp, a biblical lie detector test for a woman suspected of engaging in adultery, and explanations of what it might mean to be a nazir, a special person with deep self control.  In the middle of all of these case studies lies Birkat Kohanim, the Priestly blessing, which is perhaps one of the best known sections of our text.  This is the blessing that God instructs Moshe to tell his brother Aaron to use when the priests bless the people.

Chapter 6 verses 24-26:
24: May God bless you and guard you.
כד יְבָרֶכְךָ  ה וְיִשְׁמְרֶך
25: May God shine God’s face upon you and show you graciousness.
כה יָאֵר  ה ׀ פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ וִיחֻנֶּך
26:  May God lift God’s face upon you and place upon you peace.
כו יִשָּׂא  ה ׀ פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ וְיָשֵׂם לְךָ שָׁלוֹם:

The first question that the commentators ask is about this notion of people blessing people.  We’ve seen throughout the Torah that fathers have “blessed” their children with the blessing of the first born, but never have we seen this explicit blessing from God for the priests to use on the people.  The Rashbam, a medieval commentator from the line of Rashi, understands this section of text not as the priests giving a direct blessing to the people, but rather as the priests invoking God to bless the people and God responding by giving this blessing.  Rashbam implies that blessing is something that we are deserving of, and in the right moment and at the right time, blessing is something that can bring us a moment of unique peace. 
Over time this blessing has taken on various meanings.  It is said most often on Friday evenings as Shabbat comes in and parents bless their children, but it is also used during a wedding, brit milah, and Bar or Bat Mitzvah, as the rabbi or clergy person blesses the celebrant(s) on their new journey.   These moments denote a sacred moment in time and sometimes a significant change in life.
If you’ve come to our school Shabbat celebrations, you know that at the end of the blessing of the children when we say Birkat Kohanim, I encourage everyone to bless not only the children but also the parents, grandparents, teachers, and friends.  Just as ordinary candles become a divider of time, the wine becomes sacred, and the challah becomes edible, so too when we bless another person, it takes our relationship to another level by including a hint of the divine.  This blessing between human beings creates a moment in which God’s creations are sharing love, peace, and light between one another.  May we be blessed with a lifetime of those moments.
Family Discussion
1. Bamidbar literally means “in the wilderness,” but the root is also the same root as the word for speech, daled-bet-reish.  How can speech or blessing lift us up out of the wilderness and into a new phase in time?
2. Two parts of Birkat Kohanim mention God’s “face.” How do you interpret God’s face?

Where the Wild Things Are – Parshat Bamidbar 5771

As the weather continues to get warmer and the hours of daylight longer, you can sense that summer vacation is near while walking through the halls of our school.  While our learning is still in full swing, there are only a few days left of school, and it is clear that the students and teachers are ready for some unstructured down time without homework, early wake ups, or major responsibilities.  In our lives, we often go back and forth between needing structure, focus, and routine and needing freedom from those things.  Sometimes it’s a challenge to find the balance between these two conflicting principles.


The Israelites had the same struggle.  We remember that as they came out of Egypt and experienced freedom for the first time, they almost immediately wanted to go back to Egypt.  The freedom to structure their own days and move about with relatively few restrictions left them uncomfortable and uneasy.

This Shabbat we begin sefer Bamidbar, the book of Numbers, where we will learn about the Israelites during their 38 year stay in the wilderness.  In the previous book, sefer Vayikra, we learn about the ideal of human behavior, the idyllic discussion of how human beings should treat one another and how the Israelites will live their lives in accordance with this code.  When we arrive insefer Bamidbar, we see a stark contrast between those ideals in Vayikra and the petulant, complaining masses the Israelites revert back to.

Without instruction, life can get wildly out of control, but with too many rules and regulations, the Israelites cannot be themselves. So while it might seem like the Israelites are stuck in the mindset of the grass always being greener on the other side, the wilderness represents a place with endless possibilities; it is wide open and belongs to no one.  God chose the wilderness as the location formatan Torah, the giving of the Torah, because it is open to endless possibilities. 

We read parshat Bamidbar every year as we approach Shavuot, the celebration of receiving Torah, to remind us that the wilderness is not a place completely free from rules, regulations and structure, but rather, a place of open hearts and minds.  The Babylonian Talmud teaches in tractate Nedarim55a that the placement of this parshah and its connection to Shavuot teach us that one should be as open as the wilderness to receive Torah.  The wilderness has also been compared to God standing with open arms, ready to embrace.

As summer vacation looms, waiting just around the corner, we find ourselves again on the brink of freedom, but needing to balance this with structure and guidance.  The Torah serves as our guide through the wilderness, but it only works when we open ourselves up and are ready to embrace the teachings within.

Family Discussion Questions:
  1. Our “ethical covenant” teaches that an open mind and heart are the key to entering into a covenant with God and living a moral life.  How can you open your mind and heart to a new experience that might feel as strange as standing in the wilderness?What do you do during the summer to keep a sense of structure and organization to your days?
2.  What do you do during the summer to keep a sense of structure and organization to your days?

For Myself Alone – Parshat BeHukotai 5771

I’m often asked when it was I knew I wanted to be a rabbi.  Looking back on my journey, I’d say it was in 8th grade, just around my Bat Mitzvah.  I was already hooked on Judaism by that time and wanted to lead anything I was allowed to lead for this celebration, and everyone told me “you’re going to be a rabbi.”  But what thirteen year old wants to do what everyone tells them to do?  I may have enjoyed it, but it wasn’t “cool” to love Hebrew school or Judaism, and I found myself torn between wanting to act with passion for Judaism and trying to fit in with the “too cool for school” attitude of my peers. 
I will be the first to admit that Jewish studies aren’t often a priority with adolescents, but even as adults we sometimes find ourselves at a crossroads, caught in the shallow space between fulfilling an obligation reluctantly but with purpose and fulfilling an obligation with emptiness out of habit.  Either way, we’re left with the question of how to make Judaism meaningful.
This week, in parshat Behokotai, the Israelite nation is receiving the final laws of the book ofVayikra, which detail specifically how we should treat one another in various relationships and how we should connect to God.  The Israelites have only been out of Egypt for a short period of time, and during this first taste of freedom, they are in their stubborn and rebellious adolescent years.  God, as the dutiful parent, tries every which way to implore the Israelites to keep the mitzvot.  God tries to use Love and Logic in giving consequences that fit the actions as we saw in parshat Yitro. God tries the anger tactic as exhibited when the Israelites build the golden calf.  Now, God brings on the threats.  God makes it clear to the Israelites in chapter 26, verse 21 that “if you remain hostile toward Me and refuse to obey Me, I will go on smiting you sevenfold for your sins.” 
The word that God uses for “hostility” is Keri, a word that does not appear in this form anywhere else in the Bible.  In order to know what keri really means, we must also understand the so-called “hostile behavior” the Israelites were exhibiting.  One interpretation is that the Israelites are acting out like teenagers might.  God has brought them this far, but they want to test the limits, so they do the opposite of what they are told to do to establish their autonomy. 
The commentators Rashi and Ibn Ezra understand the word keri to come from the word mikreh, or “chance.”  They describe the Israelites’ behavior as only observing God’s ways when it is convenient for them.  Actions are easy when they bring great reward to you and your family, but when you can’t see the immediate consequences or when you don’t trust that something good will result, it is more difficult to uphold rules.   
This verse seems to imply that the Israelites are acting not out of love or spiritual connection, but rather out of a place of cold, disconnected obligation.  God has given the Israelites a life of promise, and they continue to act out of pure self interest instead of out of love for one another or God.  And it appears as though God has reached the breaking point.   
True, we might not love everything we are obligated to do, but the assumption that nothing is worth doing unless there is personal gain involved just creates resentment and hostility.  In this week’s parshah, God is asking us to think about our motives; if we continue to act out of our own selfish needs, then hostility and emptiness will reign over us.  If we can move beyond the wall of “chance” and find meaning and passion in our daily tasks, if we can push ourselves past acting out of spite or the need to establish autonomy, then we might be surprised by the learning, love, and joy that comes forth.
Family Discussion
1. What is one example of how you can add personal meaning and passion to mitzvot?
2. Mikreh is sometimes translated as “coincidence,” which we often think of as positive. Can you think of a way in which a coincidence could negatively affect a relationship?