After Death, There Is Life – Parshat Acharei Mot 5784

I’ve written before about when my Zayde (my grandfather on my mother’s side) died when I was 11 years old, in a strange way it cemented my love of Judaism. Why? Because the rituals of Jewish grief and mourning were comforting and gave me something to do when I felt unmoored. Through the subsequent deaths of my grandmothers, my other grandfather, and even my father, I have been eternally grateful that there was something prescribed for me to do when I wanted to do nothing. The path from seven days of sheltering in grief to 30 days of slowly re-entering the world, and then a year of saying a prayer allowed each stage of grief, and then some, to be acknowledged. The process pushed me to move forward, even when I wanted to hide from the world in bed.

This feels particularly relevant in this week’s Torah portion. This week we read Parshat Acharei Mot, the portion that details the laws and rules for healthy relationships. It begins with the clean-up after the loss of Aaron’s sons because of their out-of-body experience breaking the rules and continues with the laws about how we’re supposed to atone for our sins on Yom Kippur. The final chapter of the text deals with appropriate and inappropriate relationships between family members. 

In the time between the death of his two sons and where we pick up the story, Aaron has learned about ritual but was likely given the space he needed in order to experience his grief. And then, after the loss, Aaron returns to his community and is deeply entrenched in the rituals of Yom Kippur, of forgiveness and sin, and of the work he is responsible for as a leader in the community. 

Could Aaron have needed and taken more time to grieve privately before coming back to the public spotlight? Yes, and that probably would have been understood. Was it also important for Aaron as a leader to show that our grief can ebb and flow and that perhaps being back in community with others can also be helpful? Probably also yes. 

Parshat Acharei Mot reminds us of the power of this beautiful religion. Especially after the long week of keeping kosher for Passover, it’s easy to think of certain Jewish rituals as burdensome. Sometimes you can only eat certain foods. Sometimes you can’t eat anything at all. Sometimes you don’t turn on your computer until the sky is dark. But so much of what we practice is about what we need as humans to survive and thrive, and as odd as it may sound, that includes how we understand and deal with death.

Vital Signs – Parshat Metzora 5784

A few months ago I woke up feeling not so great. I was nauseous, my back hurt, and I felt generally yucky. But it was Monday morning and I had to get dressed, wake up the kids, drop them off at school, and get to work. I got myself ready, all while feeling really not like myself, and just as I was getting ready to head out the door, my pain and discomfort level shot up, and I gave in. Duncan took the kids to school, and I went to lie down. Two hours later, after resting, hydrating, and listening to my body’s signs, I was able to get up and move on with my day. I don’t believe that my temporary ailment was a punishment for something (or someone) I had done wrong. However, it’s very possible that it was the result of me not listening carefully enough to my own body.

This week’s Torah portion, Metzora, continues the discussion of the laws of ritual impurity and purification that were introduced in Parshat Tazria. Looking beyond this, there seems to be a deeper message in this portion to explore, one that deals with the various causes of sickness. Tzara’at, the skin disease that is the focus of this portion, was understood to be a punishment for sins such as gossip, slander, and arrogance. In other words, it was seen as a physical manifestation of spiritual impurity resulting from harmful speech and behavior. The Torah is teaching us that our words and actions have a powerful impact on others. We must be careful to avoid engaging in harmful speech and behavior, and if we do err, we must take responsibility for our actions and make amends.

As we reflect on this message, it’s important to remember that it’s not just our outward words and actions that can cause harm, but our inner thoughts as well. Just as our actions can have a significant impact on others, the way we treat ourselves – physically and emotionally – can take a toll. We must strive to act with kindness and compassion towards others and ourselves, recognizing that it’s not just the wellbeing of others that’s at stake, but also our own.

Furthermore, the purification process for someone afflicted with tzara’at emphasizes the importance of teshuvah (repentance) and the potential for spiritual growth and renewal. Through acknowledging our mistakes, making amends, and seeking to improve ourselves, we can overcome our flaws and become better people.

Let us strive to be mindful of the impact of our words and actions on ourselves and others, and let us embrace the potential for growth and renewal that comes with repentance and self-improvement. Let us listen to the signs our body is giving us about our own limits, and may we take this message to heart as we move forward into the coming week.

Pure Connection – Parshat Tazria 5784

Parshat Tazria is known for its discussion of childbirth and related rituals. There’s talk of bodily fluids, circumcision, and prescribed “purification.” And like many Torah portions, there’s an inherent contrast in the text we read this week. If the time following childbirth requires a certain period of purification, that implies that giving birth is an impure act in some way. Yet could there be a more God-like experience than childbirth? Many mothers point to that moment as a time when they felt God’s presence. However, as usual, I think there’s a deeper meaning to what the Torah offers.

One of the central themes of Parshat Tazria is the importance of awareness of our words and actions. In the context of the laws we receive about “impurity,” this means being mindful of the ways in which we can unintentionally cause harm to others. For example, if someone were to spread rumors or gossip about a person with a skin disease, they would be contributing to that person’s isolation and stigmatization. Similarly, if we fail to support and care for women after they give birth, we risk contributing to their feelings of vulnerability.

But the lesson of Parshat Tazria goes beyond just awareness. It also calls on us to actively seek out opportunities to bring healing and connection into the world. This is reflected in the detailed rituals of purification that are described in the Torah portion. These rituals require not only the participation of the person who is “impure,” but also the active involvement of others in the community. For example, in the case of someone who has given birth, it is the community’s responsibility to provide support and care to help them regain their strength and return to a state of purity.

This message is particularly relevant today. Though most of what we consider normal activity has resumed following the pandemic, we continue to grapple with the effects of the isolation we experienced. We’re finding that we have to rededicate and recommit ourselves to the values of community and what it looks like to care for one another, whether it’s through acts of everyday kindness or simply taking the time to listen and connect with others.

As we reflect on the lessons of Parshat Tazria, let us remember that our words and actions have the power to either cause harm or bring healing into the world. May we strive to be agents of healing, and may we continue to work towards building a world that is characterized by kindness, compassion, and connection. Shabbat shalom.

Artificial Torah – Parshat Shemini 5784

From deep fakes to instant school research papers, new advances and discoveries in AI are just as controversial as they are useful. Artificial intelligence has been around for decades, if not longer, but the recent surge has led me to think about the ways in which it might relate to modern Jewish practice. AI can summarize and regurgitate information, but its accuracy depends on the reliability of the source and the program’s competency in synthesizing details in a meaningful way.

The first example that came to mind was the transmission of rules and what happens when the information we have might not be fully accurate or may be filtered through another source. Our Torah portion this week, Parshat Shemini, digs into this question as Aaron’s two sons offer up strange fire to God and are themselves burned as a result. The question is did they have exact instructions or, like a pre-telephone game of telephone, was something changed in the transmission of information from Moses to Aaron to them? 

As an experiment in message transmission, here’s an excerpt of what the chatbot ChatGPT came up with when prompted: “Write a sermon on Parshat Shemini in the style of Rabbi Eve Posen.”

Shalom, my dear friends. As we gather here today, I want to talk to you about this week’s Torah portion, Parshat Shemini, and the powerful lessons that it has to teach us about the role of ritual and tradition in our lives. In this portion, we read about the consecration of the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary that the Israelites carried with them throughout their journey in the wilderness. We learn about the intricate details of the sacrifices that were offered, and the precise rituals that were performed, all in service of creating a sacred space where the presence of the Divine could be felt.

But what does all of this mean for us today? How can we, living in a modern world that is so vastly different from that of the ancient Israelites, find meaning and relevance in these ancient rituals and traditions? One answer lies in the power of ritual to connect us to something greater than ourselves. Whether we are lighting the candles on Shabbat, reciting the prayers of the seder, or fasting on Yom Kippur, these acts of tradition and ritual have the power to transport us beyond our individual lives, and to connect us to a larger community, a larger history, and a larger sense of purpose.

But ritual is not enough on its own. We must also strive to live our lives in accordance with the values and principles that underpin our traditions. We must be kind and compassionate to one another, and work to build a world that is more just and equitable. We must strive to live with integrity and humility, and to always remember that we are part of something much greater than ourselves.

As fun and fascinating as this experiment is, it’s also a reminder of the humanity that’s inherent in human creations and what gets lost when that piece is missing. And when we get so much of our information from social media and online “news” sources it’s more important than ever to verify and validate before we take what we read as fact, or we risk “strange fire” by spreading misinformation. In case you were curious, yes, the image on this post was created with AI.

Make Me an Offer – Parshat Tzav 5784

Have you made a burnt offering recently? Have you done a ritualistic cleanse or sacrificed grain? We tend to think of the sacrifices that were essential to our ancient Israelite ancestors as a thing of the past, but in fact, they’re not completely removed from how we observe the laws of Torah today. Let’s go to the source in this week’s Torah portion, Parshat Tzav

As the Israelites proceed along their timeline in the desert, the realization of the rules starts to set in. If you’re familiar with the cycle of Torah from previous years, you know how much time is spent on explaining what the people of this new nation can and cannot do. Part of the narrative also deals with things like the judicial system Moshe sets in motion and the priestly duties and structure. 

Leviticus chapters 6 – 8 contain instructions for the priests and the Israelites regarding offerings and sacrifices to God. Specifically, chapter 6 describes the law of the burnt offering, which was a voluntary offering made by the Israelites to seek forgiveness for sins or to show gratitude to God. This offering involved burning the entire animal on the altar as a symbol of complete devotion. Chapter 7 provides instructions for the grain offering, which was another form of voluntary offering made by the Israelites. This offering involved presenting a portion of the grain harvest to the priests, who would then burn some of it on the altar as an offering to God. Chapter 8 outlines the consecration of Aaron and his sons as priests. This involved a seven-day ceremony, during which they were washed, anointed, and dressed in their priestly garments. They were also given instructions regarding the burnt offering and grain offering described in the two previous chapters.

Overall, these chapters emphasize the importance of making offerings and sacrifices to God to demonstrate devotion and seek forgiveness. They also provide specific instructions for the priests regarding the proper way to carry out these offerings. As we look toward Passover in a month and how we put ourselves in the Exodus story, I imagine being an Israelite and wondering why exactly all this structure and status matters. After all, we just left Egypt where the hierarchy enforced by Pharoah led to oppression and forced labor.

The physical acts associated with our traditions aren’t some random set of procedures; they’re meant to keep us involved and present in our Judaism. They give purpose and intention to everything we do. You might think burnt offerings are a thing of the past, but it’s still traditional to save and burn a bit of the challah we bake before Shabbat. You might not have had the experience of being a priest and washing your hands before offering a sacrifice to God, but there’s a good chance you’ve washed and said the blessing for handwashing before eating. And that table you’re eating on? The Talmud even compares it to the altar of the Temple (BT B’rachot 55a). As Jews, it’s not a matter of being doomed to repeat history because we forget it. We remember and live in this history every day of our lives.