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?

I Raise You Up – Parshat Behar 5771

Every day I stare out my office window at the sign the nurses have put up: “10 tips to avoid the flu.” We are wrapped up in early detection and preventative screenings, and we receive flu shots and other immunizations to try and prevent whatever health challenges we can. However, the old adage “Prevention is the best medicine” applies to much more than getting enough sleep at night to avoid getting sick. 
When thinking about our future, we are often sent into a tizzy thinking about all of the preparation necessary. We plan for retirement because we hear that it’s never too early to start saving. We will think about our wills, our estates, about who we’ll gift what to.   We’re constantly reminded to plan ahead in terms of finance and health, and as we consider what the future might hold, it’s important to remember that preventative measures are usually easier than repairing damage later.
This weeks parshahBehar, discusses the preventative measures God has put in place in order for our land and our society to stay fertile and viable.  Chapter 25, verse 35 states “If your kinsman stumbles and comes under your authority, and you hold him as though a resident alien, let him live by your side.”  This verse, according to the Sifra, a compilation of Halachic Midrashim on the book of Vayikra, is a warning to us about noticing the “stumble.”  A stumble is often that first moment when we can become aware of a change, or of something being wrong.  The sages suggest that it is easier to support a person and hold him or her up when the person first begins to stumble than it is to pick the person up after he or she has fallen.  That is to say that our text reminds us that we should not wait until there is serious damage done before we provide assistance.
Back in February, the Jewish Federation of Greater Dallas celebrated 100 years of Federation.  This kickoff event for the 100th year explained that we are a community in which people support one another.  There are a plethora of agencies linked to Federation, like our school, that make sure that all Jews in the community are taken care of and assisted during those times after a stumble. 
We are commanded to be proactive; after all, it is easier to prevent poverty than it is to cure it.  Our text implores us to open our eyes and take a good look at our community and identify issues that require us to be proactive.  We must take a stand and move forward to set the stage for success rather than failure.  Parshat Behar reminds us that if we take a step forward and set the groundwork for a future that is well planned and prepared for, then the next 100 years will not only be fruitful, but will lead us to greatness. 
Family Discussion Questions
1. What are some of the things you do to protect your health so you don’t get sick?
2. How does offering support to people in our community in need fit in with our ethical covenant?

The Public I – Parshat Emor 5771

I’ll never forget what happened the first day of rabbinical school orientation.  We all gathered at Rabbi Artson’s house to meet the dean, our classmates, and other faculty.  We started by going around and sharing our names and a little bit of the dreams of our future careers.  Then Rabbi Artson began the speech that every year stops first year rabbinical students in their tracks.  “From this moment forward, you are a public figure, you are a rabbi, people will see you, meet you, and expect more of you.  As of right now, your life is on public display.”  I remember at that moment feeling my heart rise up into my throat and my head sending me mixed signals between the rush of thoughts that kept me transfixed and the fear that wanted me to leave. 
In many ways, being part of the clergy world is living life with paparazzi, albeit less violent paparazzi.  Clergy live under the magnifying glass, and it’s not uncommon for congregants to expect them to be holier, more observant, and certainly more knowledgeable than they are.  However, the reality is that in Judaism, the clergy observe the same laws and traditions as the congregation.  Of course it’s only natural to want your community leaders to set a good example, but at the same time, a professional life dedicated to the Jewish religion isn’t any holier or “more Jewish” than the lives of congregants and community members.
Parshat Emor, this week’s portion, focuses on the rules and regulations for the priests along with the obligations of the Israelites. It covers the observation of certain holidays, including mentions about the holiness of Shabbat.  At first glance, the priests appear to be singled out as holy.  Chapter 21, verse 8 states that “you must treat them (the priests) as holy, since they offer the food of your God; they shall be holy to you, for I the Lord who sanctify you am holy.”  But this parallels the imperative given in Vayikra 19:2, where God demands that all the Israelites be holy because God is holy.  So while the priests are recognized with special obligations, they are still included in the whole of Israel.  They must still observe Shabbat and all of its holiness, and they must be a part of the yearly celebrations of holidays. 
We learn here that rabbis and cantors are no different from other Jews.  We rabbis may have chosen to dedicate our lives to the passion we have for our religion and sharing and teaching about its beauty, but learning, engaging, and participating is no easier for us than it is for any other Jew.  Rabbis are people too without special powers, obligations, or shortcuts.  The text instead implores the people to consider rabbis as Klei Kodesh, as “holy vessels.”  The idea is that clergy should serve as the guidebook to opening up Jewish learning and living, not the pedestal of perfection they could never live up to. 
Each of us has the ability to Emor, to speak our mind, to ask questions about Shabbat, holidays, leaders, and to use those questions as the vessels that bring holiness to life for each of us.  Parshat Emor teaches us that we all have the unique ability to be teachers.  “Rabbi,” literally translated, means “my teacher,” the person that I’ve elected not to stand in place of me, but to guide me, to teach me how to unwrap the gift of Jewish living and learning. 
Family Discussion Questions:
  1. What’s an example of something you taught to someone else (family member, sibling, friend)?
  2. Do you think that some Jewish holidays are easier to observe than others? Why?

Accentuate the Positive – Parshat Kedoshim 5771

We often talk about how human beings were created in God’s image. We’re usually referring to positive things like our capacity for holiness, our free will, or possibly our compassion or creative nature. But what about the negative qualities? We know from the Torah that once in a while God acts out in destructive anger and jealousy.  Is this part of the image of God we’re supposed to reflect too?
This week we read parshat Kedoshim, famous for containing in chapter 19 the “holiness code.”  This is the list of mitzvot, commandments, tied to the notion that God shares with us in verse 2: “Y’all shall be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy.”  Holiness comes from our very nature and creation and is described here as a must, an imperative.  God tells the people that they should be holy because in order to match up with the God we believe in we need to be like God.  The text goes on to list a number of obligations we have to maintain this holiness:  leave the corners of our fields, don’t insult the deaf or place a stumbling block before the blind, don’t stand by the blood of our neighbor or defraud them.  These are all mitzvot that seem relatively reasonable to uphold; so far God’s actions and attitudes are in alignment with what God asks of us.
But when we arrive at chapter 19, verse 18, we receive the mitzvah telling us not to hold a grudge, which comes in conjunction with loving our neighbors as ourselves.  The text implies that holding a grudge is unholy and un-God-like.  On the surface it seems obvious that we shouldn’t hold a grudge, but when you think about it, just a few weeks earlier when God gave us the 10 commandments, we found out that God has the potential to hold the ultimate grudge.  In Shemotchapter 20, verse 5 the text states “you shall not bow down to them [idols] nor serve them because I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquities of those who hate me to the third and fourth generations and showing mercy to the thousandth generation of those who love me.” 
You don’t have to analyze the text too much to figure out that God does indeed bear a grudge.  Is this a contradiction or worse, is God being hypocritical? The text teaches us that even God is not quick to forgive, and if we are like God, it is acceptable to struggle with forgiveness as long as we don’t hold our grudges so long that they destroy our love for humanity and our community.  God’s grudge has an end point, and eventually we too must be able to “let it go.”  It is never healthy nor holy to hold onto something negative for too long. 
Parshat Kedoshim reminds us that while anger or hurt feelings may lead to a grudge, we are commanded to love one another, whether it is easy or hard.  We learn to forgive and forget, or at least forgive even if we can’t forget. We are holy, not just because the God we believe in is holy, but we are holy because we strive towards that which is good, we strive towards love.    
Family Discussion Questions:
  1. Mitzvot are connected to achrayut (responsibility).  What is the responsibility in being slow to anger?
  2. What’s the difference between holding onto a memory and holding a grudge? If I simply remember something you did that hurt me, does that mean I’m still holding a grudge? If I’ve forgiven you, is it no longer a grudge? And if I never told you that it hurt me, could I even call it a grudge in the first place?