D’var Torah: Parshat Vaera: Papa Can You Hear Me?

A year ago I came to visit our wonderful school for the first time.  I was ushered between services, classrooms, and meetings with teachers, parents, and staff.  As you can imagine, it was a lot to take in.  In the midst of this whirlwind tour was a visit to our Early Childhood Center (ECC) to witness the Monday morning Havdallah celebration.  The students were attentively moving through their routine when we arrived at the Shema.  This Tefillah is usually one of the first learned by young Jews, and according to tradition, the last words a person should say on their death bed.  The Shema is the one line creed of monotheism.  We teach that we cover our eyes so that we can be in our own private space.  In the ECC all of the students got their “Shins” ready, using the three middle fingers on their hands, cupped their ears to show that they knew that Shema means to listen, and then covered their eyes to recite this line.  I fell in love with these students and found it inspiring that at such a young age they were already so attuned to the meaning of the line.  Yes, this line expresses our belief in one, singular God, but more profoundly, it calls on each of us to listen and hear.
In our Parshah this week, Moses is attempting to cajole the Israelites into formation in order to leave Egypt.  He is set to serve as their leader, but is met with a few challenges.  In parshat Vaera, Moses is given a message from God to share with the Israelites, but as we learn in chapter 6, verse 9, “When Moses told this to the Israelites, they would not listen to Moses…”  After his message falls on deaf ears, Moses is hesitant to go and speak to Pharaoh, giving to God the excuse that “The Israelites would not listen to me; how then should Pharaoh heed me, a man of uncircumcised lips!”  Moses is frustrated; he’s been speaking, but no one is listening, and if they are listening, they do not appear to really hear or understand what he’s saying. 
The Sfat Emet, the late 19th century commentary by Aryeh Leib Alter of Poland, interprets Moses’ words as a poignant moment in leadership.  He teaches that if the Children of Israel refuse to listen to their leaders, then their leaders cannot speak.  Thus, the would-be spokesperson’s lips are turned into “uncircumcised lips.”  This implies that leaders can only truly lead if they are listened to.  Without an audience, a leader has no followers.
In our daily lives, we seem to be good at giving our attention to whomever is speaking, but how much do we actually hear?  Our parshah teaches about Moses’ “uncircumcised lips;” he has a message, but his mouth is unable to share it without assurance that it will be heard.  It also appears that the Israelites have uncircumcised ears.  They are unable or unready to heed God’s message, to truly hear what their mission is.  Perhaps this moment in our narrative teaches us that we have a double duty.  Our task is to open our ears, hone our listening skills, make our Shin, and really hear what we are being called to achieve.  Once we have done this, our lips will be opened, and we too can become leaders like Moses.  We must be able to both listen to one another and speak up for those who have yet to have their lips opened. 
Moses heeded God’s call and answered.  Our challenge is to hear the calls of those around us and answer with actions, love, and blessing.
Family Discussion Questions:
  1. Our ethical covenant teaches us that we must respect others through Shmiat HaOzen, a listening ear.  How do you make sure that you not only listen to others, but also hear their message?
  2. What are some ways you can be a better listener so that family members and friends don’t speak with “uncircumcised lips”? 

Waterworks – Parshat Vayigash 5771

According to some research, human beings are the only animals that cry in connection with emotions.  We cry when we’re upset, angry, or scared.  We cry when we’re happy, when the emotion of joy wells up inside of us.  Occasionally we even laugh so hard we cry.  Sometimes our tears rain in big drops; other times, it’s a chronic drip.  Sometimes a cry is silent, tears streaming without sobs, and other times we sob and sob and cry and cry until there are no tears left.
This week’s parshah, parshat Vayigash, is punctuated with tears.  It begins in chapter 45, verse 2 ofB’reishit with Joseph revealing himself to his brothers, which is such an emotional moment that his tears are heard throughout the kingdom.  The text states:
“Joseph could no longer control himself before all his attendants, and he cried out, “have everyone withdraw from me!”  So there was no one else about when Joseph made himself known to his brothers.  His sobs were so loud that the Egyptians could hear, and so the news reached Pharaoh’s palace.”
One can imagine Joseph trying to stifle the emotions deep within him.  For as long as it has taken the brothers to go back to Cana’an and then back to Egypt, Joseph has been keeping his emotions in check.  Joseph knows who these men are, he knows that they are his family, and he has just learned that his father is still living.   His emotions reach their boiling point in this moment, and he can no longer hold them in.  He has an outburst of big tears and heaving sobs as he rejoices in this reconnection with his siblings. 
Twelve verses later in chapter 45, verse 14, the emotions run forth again.  Here, Joseph is reunited with his brother Benjamin, his only full sibling, his link to his father and his mother.  As the text teaches, “with that he embraced his brother Benjamin around his neck and wept, and Benjamin wept on his neck.”  These tears are joyful tears accompanying an embrace that Joseph and Benjamin have longed to enjoy.
The final tears shed in our parshah are found in chapter 46, verse 29.  “Joseph ordered his chariot and went to Goshen to meet his father Israel; he presented himself to him and, embracing him around the neck, he wept on his neck a good while.”  These tears are ambiguous.  We know that someone cried on someone else’s neck “a good while,” but it is unclear as to whether it is Joseph or Jacob (or both) who cries. 
Rambam (Rabbi Moses ben Maimon), the medieval philosopher and scholar, suggests that Jacob is the one who weeps.  He asks, “By whom are tears more easily shed?  By the aged parent who finds his long-lost son alive, or by the young man who is ruler?”  For Rambam, the tears must be tears of an emotional parent, tears of joy at this miraculous event.  Joseph, the “ruler,” must not be crying according to Rambam because it wouldn’t make sense to shed tears of joy at this event when so many more major events have happened in his life.  It almost seems as though Rambam would deem it inappropriate for Joseph to cry yet again.
However, Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo ben Yitzchak), the 11th century commentator on the Torah and Talmud, suggests that it is Joseph who sheds the tears out of a mixture of strong, conflicting feelings, while Jacob offered a prayer of thanks to God.  Rashi interprets the tears to be tears of joy that are shed as Joseph continues to ride the wave of emotions that come as a result of reuniting with his family.
Each of these sob fests is marked with intense emotions, but not apologetically so.  Joseph and Benjamin aren’t ridiculed for their display of brotherly love.  Jacob (or Joseph) doesn’t let any stoicism stifle his feelings.  There’s no holding back as the emotions come to a head.  The tears in this week’s parshah are tears of thanksgiving, tears of joy, and perhaps tears of sadness.  Most importantly, they are linked together by the courage to cry and a supportive environment that allows this freedom of emotions without restraint.  As we learn in this week’s parshah, if we humans are connected by nothing else, it is the healthy expression of feelings of love and loss.  Sometimes, all you need is a good cry.
Family Discussion Questions:
  1. Our ‘ethical covenant’ urges each of us to honor and love one another, mecaved/ohev zeh et zeh.  Joseph and Jacob are reunited after a long time apart, their emotions are intense.  Sometimes we take for granted that someone knows we honor them.  As a family, how do you show that you honor and love one another?
  2. Rambam taught that Jacob must be the one crying because “Joseph the big leader” doesn’t cry.  Rashi teaches that Joseph cries.  Which commentator do you agree with?  Why?  Who do you think cried?

Goodbye 200X

A decade ago I was a senior in high school, trying to figure out what college to go to, what it would be like living away from home, thinking that by the end of the decade I’d have a job, have lived in the real world, everything was possible.
And today, I am still in school, only this time, trying to decide what I’ll be doing next year, where I’ll be working, what will be next. SO here’s a rundown of the highlights of my life in the past decade:
2000: Graduated High School, Started UMICH
2004: got accepted to Ziegler School, Graduated UMICH, met some amazing people in LA
2005: Nana passed away, learned how to drive in LA
2006: Moved to Israel for 9 months, learned I love Pastoral care,
2007: Learned to love living in Israel, Loved coming home more, Summer in Chicago, Papa died, I turned a quarter century old, Dad died, I met DUNCAN
2008: Got my Masters in Education, got engaged
2009: Got married, mastered 60 daf (120 sides) of Talmud, held down 3 jobs simultaneously
2010: I will be ORDAINED as a RABBI!!!

Its amazing to thinka bout all the experiences, emotions, love, loss, friendship and growing that has taken place over the last decade, and I am so proud of myself and how far I’ve come. I can’t wait to see what this next year and decade brings with it, I am so ready!!

Interrupting God

Over the last few years I have been grappling with God, sometimes it felt like a fight, other times it felt like we were alternating giving one another the silent treatment, and others it just felt awkward. And as this last few months have gone by and the reality of my ordination is becoming clearer, I have struggled to find a place with prayer and God that I think is genuine. I want to move into that relationship once more.
I am ready to reenter into prayer and God relationships. While on the cruise ship in the middle of nowhere I had a moment where I started to converse with God again, it wasn’t about prayer or set time, it was just me on the balcony watching the ocean ripple as the boat moved through the open space, no other life visible save for the sky, the waves and the entire world living under the water. And I talked to God, I cried, and I sat. It felt really good. The first time I did this I felt like an intruder, like I had somehow wandered into God’s private, alone space, the beauty of them middle of the ocean, but as the days went on I felt more at home in God’s world. It was just what I needed. So, where to next??

Another Turning Point

Today I was driving home from school after an intense week involving many conversations about where we will be in a year, what the future holds, many unknowable ideas and grappling this morning with my own struggle with God a song from my past came on the radio.

“Another turning point a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist directs you where to go. So make the best of this task and don’t ask why. It’s not a question but a lesson learned in time. It’s something unpredictable but in the end it’s right, I hope you had the time of your life.” ~Green Day

This song used to be one of my favorite songs, it provided me some sense of calm and comfort when it seemed my life was out of control, out of order, strange, frustrating. And today, it came on the radio as all these thoughts of change and moving were on my mind and once again I was calm. I am here at another turning point, a fork in the road. I don’t know where I’ll be 9 months from now. For the first time in my life I have no idea what comes next. Will I work in a pulpit, will I work in a school, will I combine the two? Will I stay in LA, will I move back to Michigan, Texas, the east coast? Will I have friends there? So many choices need to be made, some of which I have no control over other than trying my hardest, putting my best foot, face and mind forward and being totally fit for the job.

And then I was thinking about rabbinical school, what a strange, incredible, long, exhausting, exhilarating journey I have been on for the last 6 years. I have grown, changed. I have fallen in love, made a new community for myself. I have lost many loved ones. I have gained weight and lost weight, smiled, laughed, cried, screamed and argued my way through so many pages of Talmud. Through the history and tradition that I love so dearly. It has been an incredible journey and I would be lying if I said I was glad it is ending. I am terrified, but excited, certain it will be an experience like none other.

And I have learned. I learned a little bit about who I am, about what motivates me, about what terrifies me. I wrestle with God daily, with the question of God, with the relationship I have with God, with what I used to know to be true and can no longer believe. I learned about traditions, law, philosophy, and I only hope I can remember it all.