Instructions (Sometimes) Required – Parshat Tetzaveh 5784

A memory popped up in our photostream the other day of a time when I was working late and Duncan needed to entertain Shiri. Since the kids like baking together, he prepped a baking activity, but instead of following the recipe exactly, he simply put out all the ingredients (in reasonable quantities) like sugar, flour, eggs, oil, salt, chocolate chips, etc., and invited Shiri to create something. Even though Shiri decided the amount of each ingredient and what to do with it, they actually ended up making chocolate chip cookies that were fairly palatable. 

While baking is a precise science, Duncan can usually use this method himself when it comes to non-baked dinner combinations. He can take a mix of leftovers and whatever else we might have lying around and craft something fairly yummy. By contrast, I’m not a whiz in the kitchen, but I am exceptional at following a recipe to a 90% success rate, meaning what I make is edible and generally meets expectations. I’m not great at experimenting too far outside of my kitchen comfort zone, so I leave that to Duncan, who can put out ingredients and riff on some basic knowledge.

There are times when each of these methods is not only appropriate but also necessary. On the one hand, putting out supplies with no directions can encourage creativity and imagination and can allow people to have a unique and different experience with each interaction. On the other hand, it often makes it impossible to recreate the product, which, outside of the culinary world, might be more problematic than we think. 

Our Torah reading this week invites us into the possibility that both options (following directions or improvising) can be beneficial. Parshat Tetzaveh details the specific clothing items that a priest and those close to him are to wear. This is special attire that distinguishes them from others in their service to God. These clothes are meant to add an aura of holiness to the priests as they complete their sacred duties. Since these vestments and garments are to be used for such a unique purpose, God also gives a special instruction regarding who is to make them. After we receive these specifics, we learn about the details of what is on each garment.

In the Torah reading two weeks ago in chapter 24, the Israelites answer God with na’aseh v’nishma. “We will do it, and then we’ll understand it.” Commentators often refer to this text as the notion that to understand something, one must explore it, be active in it, and test it out. This week, however, as God is giving the instructions on how to install the priests, the opposite is described. First, God lists the materials that will be needed and then gives concrete, careful, exact directions on what to do and how to do it. To mess around with this order is to desecrate holy objects. When you read both portions, what’s clear is the Torah doesn’t just have one way of doing everything. In certain moments, it is imperative to explore, create, and experiment, and in others, there’s a precise formula to ensure safety, continuity, and balance. 

My Dance Space – Parshat Terumah 5784

It’s no secret that my favorite movie is Dirty Dancing. I remember watching it for the first time and falling in love with the dance moves and the romance of it (without understanding at my young age the more adult themes). When you watch good movies over and over again, they never get old because you tend to find new things to take from them. As many times as I’ve watched Dirty Dancing, I’m still finding little lessons and commentaries on the state of society and more. One of those themes I noticed recently is the notion of setting boundaries.

When the character of Johnny is working on helping Baby improve her dancing, he talks about posture. In the beginning, as they’re getting to know each other, Johnny teaches Baby to lock her arms, declaring “This is my dance space, this is yours.” If you know the movie, you know that the two characters are establishing not just the boundaries for dancing with each other, but the boundaries of their relationship. After they get to know one another and care for one another, Baby later teases a noodle-armed Johnny while dancing, calling out his “spaghetti arms” and throwing his previous line about dance space right back at him.

While I wouldn’t necessarily call Dirty Dancing biblical commentary, I would certainly be willing to say that the relationships and boundaries explored in the story are as old as the Torah itself, and one of those lessons can be seen in our Torah portion this week. This week we read Parshat Terumah, which reminds us of the importance of giving gifts just because we want to. The parshah focuses mainly on the building of the Tabernacle (the Mishkan) and what the ark and decorative pieces will look like. The instructions are specific, including what materials should be used, exactly how big each piece should be, and how the floor plan should look when the building is completed.

While the directions for building the Tabernacle are being given, we read in chapter 27 about a specific kind of enclosure that needs to be made for the more sacred of the spaces. This is when we learn the notion that any sacred area must be clearly separated from the profane space outside of it. In other words, there are multiple levels of boundaries throughout the Tabernacle and Temple plazas to allow for the complexities of relationships and how different roles would interact with each other and with God. 

Sacred spaces can be physical like the Tabernacle or a synagogue, or they can be personal, between two human beings. Parshat Terumah suggests that regardless of where they are, boundaries can have their own inherent holiness, and respecting them allows for more trusting relationships. The most beautiful movements together happen when you have your dance space and I have mine.

Jewish Sex – Parshat Mishpatim 5784

When I used to teach in the day school world I would frequently be called upon to offer a unit called “Jewish Sexual Education” to our 4th-8th graders as part of their human sexuality units. My role was to offer up a sex-positive, safety-positive lesson about the way we look at our bodies and how we treat our partners in intimate relationships. This spanned the spectrum from strictly emotional relationships (and emotional abuse) to the very nature of our physical beings and anatomy. It never failed; each year I’d walk into the classroom to have kids shade their eyes and hide their faces because it was too much for them to hear the rabbi use medical terminology for genitalia.

I started each year with the same speech about how “this too is Torah” and reminded them that the Torah is chock-full of examples of boundaries being violated and rules about what constitutes an appropriate physically intimate relationship. This is acknowledged in multiple ways throughout the Torah, but specifically in our current Torah portion.

This week we read Parshat Mishpatim, the middle section of text in Sefer Shemot, the Book of Exodus. The Israelites are on their way out of Egypt to Israel. They have begun to set up their own system of laws and rules, beginning last week with the Ten Commandments. This week, Parshat Mishpatim focuses on interpersonal laws in regard to business. The main idea of this section of text is that we have the obligation to treat each other in business and in relationships as complete, equal human beings.

In the list of responsibilities towards other humans, the text talks about indentured servants and other types of “ownership” relationships. It may sound strange to modern ears, but this includes marriage. The Torah is explicit that the rights of two people in a committed relationship are food, clothing, and conjugal love. Jewish law values the rights of both partners to sexual satisfaction within their partnership. Moreover, withholding pleasure from a partner is seen as breaking a commandment. 

We often think of biblical Judaism as being ancient and antiquated. We often have to dig deep into laws about sacrifice to figure out how those laws are relevant to us today. For this law, there’s no need to dig. The Torah values responsible and committed physical bonding and recognizes that withholding that physical need is a form of enslavement. It’s a pretty progressive take for these ancient words. 

To Learn From All – Parshat Yitro 5784

A rabbi, a Lutheran pastor, and a Presbyterian pastor walk into a coffee shop. No, that’s not a joke, it actually happens on a regular basis. I gather monthly with two other female clergy, one Presbyterian, the other Lutheran. We talk about our journeys as religious leaders, as women, as people of faith. It may sound cliché, but I fully believe that we can learn from anyone. We’ve explored the differences between our Bibles and the ways in which our faith stories can be told. I’ve offered support when security issues have arisen at their buildings, and they’ve taught me about setting boundaries and recharging when necessary. The premise might sound like the start of a joke, but with this group of women, I’m learning so much about life and Judaism. 

I don’t want to whitewash over the differences between myself and my colleagues either. There are certainly places where I fully disagree with their reading of our sacred texts, and in those moments we agree to disagree. Thankfully, those moments are few and far between. When we sit together with our hearts and minds open, our world is a richer and more beautiful place. 

If the joke were in fact told in the Torah, that version would probably go something like this: “A Midianite priest and an Israelite prophet walk into the desert.” That’s what happens in our Torah portion this week, Parshat Yitro. The central piece of the portion is the giving of the Ten Commandments by God to Moshe and the people Israel. We now have a set of laws to live by, a guide to being a free people outside of slavery. But before the Torah shares these laws, it reminds us of the family relationship Moshe has with his father-in-law and how he sets up a legal system. And the end encapsulates the experience of the intensity of being at Sinai, but in an unusual way.

Moses is stressed, trying to do the work of leading the people and being the judge. People are waiting in lines all day long, and he isn’t making any progress. Yitro, Midianite priest and father-in-law to Moshe, comes to check in. Yitro offers advice, not about how to solve the problems being presented by the people, but about how his people have devised their legal system. For Moses, we see that religion and faith are inspired by God, but, that doesn’t mean that he can’t learn from others about science, civics, and more. 

There is so much to be learned from others who are outside of our small Jewish community. Parshat Yitro calls loudly to all of humanity to open our minds and learn from one another. It doesn’t mean that we have to share all aspects of belief, but it also doesn’t serve a purpose to close ourselves off from one another and miss the opportunity to grow. As Ben Zoma teaches in Pirkei Avot, “Who is wise? One who learns from everyone.”

A Time to Pray, a Time to Act – Parshat Beshalach 5784

Baruch dayan ha’emet.” Blessed is the true judge. These are the words that we’re told to speak upon hearing of a death. It’s a short, quiet prayer that simultaneously notes that life is fleeting and often not in our own hands, and at the same time, asks for blessings upon the life that has ended. From there, our tradition teaches us that there are steps to take in order to fully honor and respect the body and spirit of the one who has died.

As Jews, we simultaneously take the time to acknowledge our grief as we step into the ritual actions of burial. This is a call to both pray and to act. This one mitzvah (commandment) sums up so much of Judaism; we are people of prayer and we are people who must work to bring forth change. However, when you consider the breadth of our narrative and our subsequent legal texts, those two verbs aren’t necessarily in the same order every time.

Moses learns this lesson in our Torah portion this week. Parshat Beshalach is notable for showing the power of song. We find the children of Israel on their journey out of Egypt into the wilderness. The Egyptians go after them, but God intervenes and saves them. The Israelites continue through moments of bliss and wonder at the new, free world around them as well as moments marking the occasional temper tantrum at God because the journey through the desert isn’t perfect. God provides manna, and the people want more. God provides water, and the people complain that it doesn’t meet their standards.

On their way out of Egypt, the Israelite people are understandably scared. They see the Egyptians following them, there is a sea in front of them, and they freeze in fear. Moses begins to pray, but God stops him. Why? God explains to Moses that there is a time to act and a time to pray. This moment at the sea is a time of action, not prayer. And we know what Moses does: he lifts his arms, and the sea parts. It is only after he takes direct action that it is the appropriate time to pray. It wouldn’t have worked the other way around. 

How many times do we see people offering “thoughts and prayers” after tragic events? The Torah this week reminds us that perhaps it should be “actions and prayers.” Yes, we can have both a belief in something greater than ourselves and the imperative to take action to create a world that is a picture of justice and mercy.