Accentuate the Positive – Parshat Kedoshim 5771

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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?

Feathers in the Wind – Parshat Acharei Mot 5771

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A Chasidic story: 
“There once was a town where the only thing the rabbi heard was laughter.  He heard that this person said this to that person and then the chain continued on.  Each person was talking about the other, they all laughed, except the rabbi and the person who was being laughed about.  One day, Shlomo told Barukh about the foolish thing that Yankel had done.  Barukh couldn’t stop laughing.  Yankel was hurt and wouldn’t talk to Shlomo.  Shlomo was very upset and went to the rabbi.  He said, ‘I don’t know what to do, Yankel is my good friend but he won’t talk to me now.  He slammed the door in my face.  I tried to say I’m sorry but he won’t listen to me.’  The rabbi understood.  He said to Shlomo, ‘Meet me at noon in the town square with a pillow.  I will teach you a great secret, but you can only learn it with a pillow.’  The next day Shlomo showed up with a pillow and met the rabbi.  The rabbi had Shlomo rip open the pillow.  As soon as he did this the wind started to blow and grab the feathers and carry them away.  The rabbi took the pillow and shook it so the air was filled with feathers and the wind carried them all over town.  The whole town was filled with feathers.  The rabbi then said, ‘Go and gather up all the feathers.’  Shlomo said, ‘That’s impossible, no one could to that.’  Then the rabbi said, ‘Go and gather up the story about the foolish thing Yankel did.’ Shlomo said, ‘That’s impossible.’  Then he got it.”   
The story tells us that our words are like feathers in the wind.  Once they’ve come out of our mouths, it is very difficult, if not impossible, to take them back. 
Our parshah this week, Acharei Mot, continues the story of Aaron’s sons and their relationship with the priesthood.  It begins by reminding us why Nadav and Avihu were “zapped.”  They drew too close to God.  The text continues with a detailed list of the preparations to be made for Yom Kippurand the foods that we’re allowed to eat.   The common thread throughout the text is a focus on various relationships to be had and to be held dear.  From Nadav and Avihu we gather that there are certain relationships in which it is best to keep some distance and acknowledge that boundaries are there for a reason.  When we cross those boundaries, we often find ourselves in a place of irreversible damage.  The text tells us the same is true with regard to whom we love and have intimate relations with. 
The text then focuses on various types of offerings made in atonement for our actions.  Chapter 16, verse 13 begins to tell us of the offering of incense to be made as Aaron purifies the sanctuary of God.  It tells us that Aaron is to “put the incense on the fire before the Lord, so that the cloud from the incense screens the cover that is over the Ark of the Pact, lest he die.”  The Talmud, in tractateYoma, teaches us about the importance of incense being used to talk about rectifying sins of lashon HaRah, evil speech.  The offering of incense is scented, but has no physical presence and is used to atone for the sin of gossip, which also has no physical reality but can be carried far and wide, with its effects lasting long after it has left its place of origin. 
This week we read not only about needing to guard our tongues and our relationships, but we also celebrate Shabbat HaGadol, the special Shabbat right before we celebrate Pesach.  We think about what it might mean to screen our thoughts before they leave our lips and how to ensure that our fires are the ones that burn within us, the fire of love, the fire of compassion, and the fire of intelligence. We hope that that is what spreads like the feathers in the story, like the presence of God in the text, and encompass the whole earth with understanding and respect.
Family Discussion Questions:
  1. Our ‘ethical covenant’ teaches us about miyut sichah, minimizing small talk so that we might be more aware of the responsibility each of us has for our own speech. Have you ever said something that you wished you could take back?
  2. Scents carry not only over physical distance, but over memory and time. What memories do you associate with certain smells?

Splish Splash – Parshat Metzora 5771

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What is it about a cool spring rain, a dip in the pool on a 100 plus degree summer day in Texas, or even a good long cry when the emotion has been pent up inside? Water not only maintains life, it also renews life, and our connection to this elemental force has grown continuously deeper since the beginning of the earth.
In Bereshit (Genesis) 1:2 we learn that God fashions the earth out of the waters, and it emerges as a new entity.  Then when God wants to start over and refresh the world and creation in parshat Noah, again God uses water, a great flood like a bath over the land so that the earth and its inhabitants can start anew.  It should come as no surprise that the symbolism of water is that of renewal and rebirth.  Not only was the earth birthed out of water, but each of us emerged at one point from the watery environment of the womb.
Today we use water as a symbol during the aseret y’mei t’shuvah, the ten days of repentance between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, when we symbolically wash away our sins duringTashlich.  We ritually wash our hands before we eat so as to make eating a holy act.  Even outside of ritual we use water.  On a hot day when the heat feels particularly heavy we’ll take a cold shower or jump in the pool to emerge refreshed and renewed.  Something even as simple as our daily shower or bath can awaken our senses and get us ready for a new day. 
Jewish tradition emphasizes the powers of water in the use of the mikvah, the ritual bath.  Many women will use the mikvah to mark a new monthly cycle in their lives.  Men and women will commonly go to the mikvah before their wedding day or before Yom Kippur, so as to emerge into this new year or phase in life clean and purified.
Our parshah this week, Metzora, goes into detail about the use of the mikvah as a tool for renewal in our daily lives.  The immersion that the text speaks of is for the metzorah, the leprous person, to emerge from the waters with a renewed outlook on life.  Sefer Ha-Hinnuch, a 13th century commentary on the mitzvot of the Torah, teaches that an experience of illness and recovery is such that it allows the person who has survived to come out renewed and a new person. 
There is an age-old debate about whether or not people are able to change, nature versus nurture.  But in all likelihood, our human personalities are formed in many ways from many sources. Perhaps our nature is set when we’re born, but we emerge out of every experience changed and ready to engage with the world.  The text teaches us that while we might not be the best swimmers, each of us is able to float.  When we’re struggling to move forward, perhaps the only thing holding us back is our fear of diving in to the next step.  If life presents an opportunity for renewal, may we have the courage the take the plunge.
Family Discussion Questions
1.  What are some other ways besides using water that we symbolize rebirth or renewal in Judaism?  How does this connect you to living a Jewish life as described in our “ethical covenant”?
2.  What is your favorite type of natural water?  Why?  How does it make you feel?

Help! I Need Somebody! – Parshat Tazria 5771

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Sometimes we wish we were mind readers. Occasionally, I’ll ask a question in class and get nothing but blank stares.  Should I assume that because there were no questions and everyone seems to be working away on their own, that they understand the material?  Unfortunately I don’t know what’s going on in their heads, and it can be hard to offer them help if they don’t take the first step by asking for help. 
When we have a problem, we’re often too afraid or proud to let others know about it.  This week’sTorah portion, Tazria, teaches us about asking for help in our world.  The parshah mainly covers purities and impurities.  The text is also laden with images of how a woman must purify herself after childbirth and what to do if you contract various skin diseases.  It talks about the sanctity of our bodies and our obligations to keep them pure especially with the food that we put into them and the words that come out of them.  
In the end of the parshah we learn about the requirements of the person becoming purified.  Chapter 13, verse 45 of the book of Vayikra reminds us that no one is a mind reader.  The text reads: “As for the person with leprosy, his clothes shall be rent, his head shall be left bare, and he shall cover over his upper lip; and he shall call out, ‘Impure! Impure!’”  According to the Talmud, a person calls out “Impure!” not only to warn others of the contagious nature of their bodies, but also so that others will know about it in the first place.  The Torah teaches that we cannot expect others in our community to know our needs unless we tell them ourselves.  If we want to have someone come to our aid, we must first be comfortable asking for help.
When we’re too afraid to ask for help, we deny the community a chance to welcome us and love us through a difficult event.  The truth is, we’re not mind readers, and as difficult as it is to stand up and call out “Impure!  I need help!” in the long run, the love and support provided will help you heal faster and allow you to receive the care and friendship you need.
By the same token, each person in our community is deserving of our nurturing support during a time of need.  This parshah calls out to each of us to not be afraid to admit when we need help from others and to come to the rescue of others when we hear that voice call out.  We should not shun those who need help, just because they are different.  Rather, we should move forward and offer prayer, support and encouragement. 
Family Discussion Question:
  1. Our “ethical covenant” speaks about giving the benefit of the doubt.  We often push our own interpretation of a situation on others without taking into account their individual situation.  How can you work towards being more likely to give the benefit of the doubt?
  2. What can you do as a family to embrace the mitzvah of Bikur Holim, visiting the sick so that no one in our community will feel alone in a time of need?

Fire and Ice – Parshat Shmini 5771

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Ever since I was a little girl, I have been captivated by fire.  Not in a destructive sense, but by the flames burning, dancing around with varying colors.  I’d sit in front of my parents’ fireplace for hours just watching the dance.  Living in Los Angeles for six years, I quickly became aware of fire’s disruptive side and the devastation that it can bring.  Seeing huge forest fires consume trees, houses, and lives mystified me. What can start out as beautiful dancing flames can quickly turn into a damaging force without gentle care.
In a similar way, fire plays multiple roles in our lives as Jews.  We use fire to differentiate between sacred time and the ordinary week.  Every week we light two small fires as we begin Shabbat, and then another larger flame as Shabbat leaves us in Havdallah.  We also use fire to change the quality of our utensils from treif to kosher, and we refrain from making fires during sacred times.  Fire can be beautiful and symbolic or destructive and scary, but these dual modalities go back much further than our current traditions.
Our parshah this week, Sh’mini, introduces us to the rules and regulations of the priesthood and dietary laws, including a laundry list of animals that are considered acceptable for eating and those that are not.  We’re in the middle of the story of Aaron and his sons, Nadav, Avihu, Itamar, and Eleazar and the newly ordained priests.  One of the central roles of the priests is to offer sacrifices on behalf of the people.  And, of course in the barbecuing of sacrifices, there are flames and fire involved.  God gives Aaron and his sons specific instructions on how to do this, but Nadav and Avihu get carried away by their authority and misuse the powerful flames of God.  This mistake costs Nadav and Avihu their lives, and just as they sinned by offering strange fire, they are consumed by the fire of God.
Again we’re on the sea-saw between the fire of sanctification and the fire of destruction, between sacred and profane.  This continues to be the theme as God gives more specific rules to Aaron on the priesthood, stating in chapter 10 verses 9-10 that “this is a law for all time throughout the ages, for you must distinguish between the sacred and the profane and between the impure and the pure…”  Aaron’s job is to continue to teach the Israelite people these distinctions.
God says L’havdil, “to know the difference,” between holy and ordinary, between clean and unclean.  This is the same root used for Havdallah, the ceremony separating Shabbat and holidays from ordinary weekdays.  God tells Aaron that his job is to notice subtle differences and how time, objects, and people can be transformed.  The differences are marked by the flames burning, not only on the outside, but within.  The fire of God is a spark that lives within each of God’s creations. Sometimes our light is bright, shining and radiant.  Sometimes we bring light, love and laughter to the world.  L’havdil – on the other side – sometimes our light is diminished.  We are sad, burned out, and cold.    Our job is to notice when our fires are low and help one another fan the flames into their usual, resilient splendor so that our world will again be warmed by the beautiful dancing flames of holiness and joy.
Family Discussion Questions:
  1. Our ‘ethical covenant’ speaks of Kedushah, holiness, as a means towards creating a more peaceful society.  How does taking into account the differences in people, time, and objects help us become more attuned to our society?
  2. Can you think of other ways in Judaism that we mark separation between things in customs and events?