Get Your Learn On

Behar-Bechukotai

27 Iyar 5772 / May 18-19, 2012

In this week’s double Torah portion, where we complete the Book of Leviticus by reading the portions of both Behar and Bechukotai, we are immediately introduced to the concept of the land resting. 

“Six years you may sow your field and six years you may prune your vineyard and gather in the yield.  But in the 7^th year the land shall have a Sabbath of complete rest.”

Who knew the ground needed a break!  It’s hard to remember sometimes that most of our ancestors were farmers, and that our major holidays (of Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot) have agricultural underpinnings.

After 7 sets of 7 years (49 years) there is a Jubilee year.

In the 50^th year, the Jubilee year, the land rests and is returned to its original owners (with a couple of exceptions) and private debts are forgiven.  I know quite a few folks who would love for the Jubilee year to be reinstated so as to extinguish their mortgages!

We stopped celebrating the Jubilee for a number of reasons.  A couple of thoughts: (1) It was hard to keep count as a Diasporic people spread all over the place.  (2) There was a rabbinic argument about when the 50^th year technically started, thus there were conflicting opinions about when to observe it.  It’s hard to have a society-wide phenomenon, where land holdings are returned to their original owners, if you don’t know when exactly that’s meant to happen.

Also – there were practical issues. 

Every 7^th year, we were required to let the land lay dormant, and to only eat what it naturally produced.  We could not plant, sow, harvest, etc.  The Torah says that God promised to provide enough food in year 6 to cover years 6, 7 and 8.  If the 49^th year was a 7^th year, which it would be, that means that for both the 49^th and 50^th years, the Israelites would not have been allowed to grow food!  While the Torah says that God will provide, having that kind of faith is admittedly difficult.

During the 7^th year of each 7-year cycle, as well as in the 50^th year, all debts were forgiven.  If you were a lender, and you knew that all debt would be forgiven in the near future, why on earth would you lend anyone money, knowing you might not get it back?  We see in our own economy today that having the ability to borrow money is essential for meaningful economic growth. 

As you might expect, lenders were loathe to lend when close to the 7^th or Jubilee years, despite God’s explicit instruction to do so in the Torah (effectively making the potential lenders sinners). In response, Rabbi Hillel created a legal fiction called “Prozbul” that allowed for lenders to lend to others, even when approaching the Jubilee year, by creating a legal document that would accompany the interest-free loans (charging interest to fellow Jews is forbidden in the Torah) that stated that the loans were to be transferred to the courts, making the debt public, and thus not required to be released during a 7^th year or during the Jubilee.  Prozbul benefitted both borrowers and lenders – borrowers had access to cash, and lenders knew their money was safe.  And yet, Rabbi Hillel created a system that explicitly went against God’s specific instructions!

In doing so, Rabbi Hillel established a meaningful tradition that has guided many rabbis in terms of how they make decisions.  We look to the Torah, our texts and traditions; we look at the realities in the world around us; and we find a way to meaningfully and authentically blend the two. 

But how can we find meaningful ways to blend the two in our own lives?  Particularly if many of us don’t have a firm grasp of our texts and traditions?

We learn from Rabbi Shammai in Pirkei Avot, the section of the Mishnah that shares the “ethics of our ancestors,” that we as Jews are meant to set aside a regular time in our schedules for Torah study.  Rabbi Hillel echoes Shammai, saying: “Do not say when I have free time I will study Torah, lest you not have free time.”  Rabbi Hamnunah says in the Gemara that "[t]he first thing a person will be held accountable for on his day of Heavenly judgment is whether he fulfilled his duty of studying Torah."

While most of us aren’t really thinking about our day of Heavenly judgment, what we are thinking about is all of the work we have to get done this week, the errands we need to run, the room we’re meant to clean, the friends we want to spend time with, figuring out why the Tigers’ offense stinks, and the desire we have to read the third book of the Hunger Games and/or watch the season finale of Glee.  With all of those things, how on earth are we meant to set aside time to continue our Jewish educations?

I have a secret to share with you.  You may not believe it’s true, but I’m going to tell you anyway:

There is nothing more fun or more meaningful in the entire world than learning.  Seriously.

The desire to learn is programmed into us as human beings, both naturally, and with some societal nudging. As babies, we take in the world around us and by trial and error learn what’s dangerous.  In elementary school, we learn how to read and write.  In middle school, we learn what it is to have a crush on someone.  In high school, we start to really figure out who we are as people, and what we really believe about the world around us.  In college we lay the foundation to achieve our professional goals. The pursuit of knowledge – and on a higher level, of Truth – is our de facto motivator as humans.  And wouldn’t you know it – Truth is one of the ways we describe God.  We end the Shema with the words “Hashem Elokechem Emet” – “The Lord your God is Truth.”

In the spirit of furthering my argument that learning in general, and Jewish learning in particular, is both fun and meaningful, I have some suggestions for topics you may like to study as you continue your Jewish education:

Did you know that there were several different ancient versions of the Torah, mostly differing by spelling, and that there are words that are traditionally read differently from the way they’re written?

Go and Learn!

Did you know that in the Torah, Moses never actually says “Let my people go!” – rather, he tries to trick Pharaoh by having him let the Israelites go on a 3 day trip into the desert in order to have a festival to God, with the promise that they would then return?

Go and Learn!

Did you know that in the Mishna, our legal code published around the year 200, there is a whole section about people who are “Androgynous” and don’t fit neatly into the category of “male” or “female?”

Go and Learn!

These are just a few of innumerable interesting realities begging to be studied.

Like Rabbi Hillel and his creation of Prozbul, so too do we have the ability, and I would argue, the responsibility, to meaningfully engage with our sacred texts, to be aware of the world around us and the events taking place in it, and to devote ourselves to finding ways to enhance our own lives and the lives of all we encounter by meaningfully and authentically combining the two.  To do so, we need to commit to learning from our tradition and to learning about the world around us.

How do we know where to start when it comes to Jewish learning? In the words of our ancient sage Joshua ben Perachyah, also quoted in Pirkei Avot: Provide for yourself a teacher and get yourself a friend.  Utilize the rabbis and teachers you’ve formed relationships with.  Reach out to new rabbis and teachers.  Develop meaningful relationships with them and others.  Make our tradition truly your own.  Never stop learning.

Tzeh Ul’mad – Go and Learn.

Truth Like a Blazing Fire

Emor

20 Iyar 5772 / May 11-12, 2012

God spoke to Moses, saying:

“Command the Children of Israel that they take to you clear olive oil, pressed for lighting, to kindle a continual lamp. Outside the Curtain of the Testimony, in the Tent of Meeting, Aaron shall arrange it, from evening to morning, before God, continually; an eternal decree for your generations.”

In this week’s portion, we are commanded to kindle an eternal flame.

While the commandment was specific to the Holy Temple in Jerusalem which has since been destroyed, we find this commandment acknowledged in most synagogues, where there is an “eternal light” that hangs over the Ark.  The light has come to symbolize not only the ancient lamp in the Temple and its eternal flame, but God’s unwavering presence in the world.

Fire and its accompanying light are quite significant in our Jewish tradition.

We light candles to sanctify the Sabbath.

We light a Havdallah candle to signify the Sabbath’s end.

We light yahrtzeit candles to remember loved ones on their death anniversaries.

We celebrate the story of Hannukkah – the Festival of Lights – which the ancient rabbis teach was partially about how our ancestors were afraid that the eternal flame described in the Biblical verse above would go out, as they did not have enough pure oil on hand to keep the flame going for two days, let alone eight, once it was rekindled.

Jews are supposedly meant to be “a light unto the nations.”

There is something inherently holy about fire.

I watched a Ted Talk this week called “5 dangerous things you should let your kids do” by Gever Tulley, founder of the Tinkering School.  The #1 item on the list was to let kids play with fire, given its mystery and its power as an elemental force of nature.  We have all been mesmerized when staring into a flame, and have all been humbled knowing the power that fire can wield.

I also happened to visit a Jewish funeral home this week in Skokie in order to be trained on how to ritually prepare a deceased Jew for burial. While tradition mandates that once a body is prepared, a guardian watch over it at all times before it is buried, this is not practical for many. In lieu of having an individual watch over the body, some have the tradition of lighting a large slow-burning candle, and having the flame serve as the guardian, until the body is buried.

This concept of flame as guardian really resonated with me, and helps me understand why my Israelite ancestors were so diligent about keeping the eternal flame in the Temple lit.

On a purely elemental level, does fire move you?  Do other things in nature?

Is it fair to say that the eternal fire that once burned in the Temple now burns within us as Jews? 

Let us strive to live our lives in a way that allows us to emanate the glow of the ancient eternal flame. 

To sanctify and uplift our lives and the lives of others.

To recognize our vulnerability as humans.

To be a flame for good in the world.

Homosexuality, Judaism, and a Pastor from North Carolina

Acharei Mot - Kedoshim

13 Iyar 5772 / May 4-5, 2012

This week we have another double portion.  In addition to being introduced to the holiday of Yom Kippur and the concept of scapegoating (True story! There is a literal goat that becomes the scapegoat!), we are also provided with a significant list of sexual relationships that are considered forbidden, perverse and abominable, as part of a broader narrative dealing with holiness.

One of the most challenging verses in the Torah appears in this week’s reading:

“You shall not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination.”

This is the verse that has traditionally been used to condemn homosexuality, and the associated punishment in the Torah is the death penalty.

One of the most important verses in the Torah also appears in this week’s reading:

“You shall not hate your brother in your heart; you shall reprove your fellow and do not bear a sin because of him.  You shall not take revenge and you shall not bear a grudge against the members of your people; you shall love your fellow as yourself – I am God.”

According to Rabbi Akiva, one of our most heralded rabbis (who lived between 50 and 135 CE), “love your fellow as yourself” is the fundamental rule of the entire Torah.

Regardless of your feelings as it relates to the applicability or interpretation of the first verse, there is a significant lack of love being shown to those whom it is perceived are in violation of it.  While the Torah says that at times it is necessary to reprove others, it says that it must be done from a place of love, and cannot be from a place of hate.

This week, as a mechanism for countering homosexuality, a North Carolina pastor encouraged fathers to break the wrists of their sons, to “man up,” and “give them a good punch” if they started to act in ways perceived as effeminate. 

While he would likely argue that his intent was to reprove and to help individuals avoid sin, it would be farfetched to argue that the pastor’s suggested methods could be perceived as coming from a place of love.  Countless studies have shown that physical violence, even in the form of a simple spanking, is not the most effective or healthy way to discipline children… let alone breaking bones and throwing punches, which under any legal definition would be considered child abuse.

We are all imperfect creatures. 

We all have a Divine spark within us.

Physical violence is the opposite of love.

Love your neighbor as yourself.

Double the Portion, Double the Fun!

Tazria-Metzora

6 Iyar 5772 / April 27-28, 2012

In this week’s double portion of Tazria and Metzora, we read about the purification process for those who had skin afflictions (in Hebrew, “tzara’at” -- commonly mistranslated as “leprosy”), which it was believed were caused by spiritual shortcomings. 

The Talmud (in Erchin 15a) lists 7 wrongdoings for which one would deserve to be stricken with tzara’at:

1.     Lashon hara (speaking evil about another)

2.     Murder

3.     Immorality (most often sexual in nature; specifically, adultery)

4.     Making a false oath

5.     Arrogance

6.     Theft

7.     Miserliness

For example, we learn later on in the Torah that Miriam, Moses’s sister, was punished with tzara’at when she spoke poorly of her brother (fitting into the category of lashon hara -- #1 above). 

Those who had skin afflictions were required to present themselves before either Aaron or one of his sons (all of them Priests), and they would determine whether or not the individual was “contaminated” or “pure.”  If contaminated, depending on the affliction, there were a number of steps one needed to take in order to regain status as “pure.”

The idea that internal shortcomings may manifest externally is not a new one.  Also, just because we don’t see an external sign doesn’t mean that we are not guilty of doing some of the things on the above list (and/or other things that challenge our spiritual purity).  As a result, sometimes we’re blind to our own shortcomings.

As a result of this potential blindness, in the process the Torah lays out, it is an outside actor – a Priest – who is telling individual Israelites whether or not they are spiritually contaminated.

Who do we as Jews have that kind of relationship with now? 

Is there someone you check in with to make sure that you are being the best version of yourself? 

A rabbi?  A therapist?  A parent? 

Who do you choose to confide in to grow spiritually and why? 

While there may no longer be active Jewish Priests, and even if you aren’t exhibiting negative external signs such as tzara’at, make a conscious decision to have someone you check in with spiritually on a regular basis.  In doing so, we can avoid our own spiritual blind spots, and continue our commitment as Jews to living lives both meaningful and fulfilled.

Something just feels a bit off...

Shemini

April 20-21, 2012 / 29 Nissan 5772

This week’s Torah portion is Shemini – or is it?

In Israel, they actually are already on the next portion. The reason for this is that outside of Israel, in traditional communities, the Passover holiday lasts for 8 days, while in Israel it only lasts for 7 days. The 8^th day of Passover this year was last Saturday – so while in Israel it was a normal Shabbat and Israelis read the portion of Shemini, outside of Israel it was still Passover, and a special Passover Torah reading was read instead. A few weeks from now, we'll catch up by reading two portions, while those in Israel will read just one, allowing us to once again have our readings in synch.

I struggle a lot with the idea that not all Jews around the world are reading the same Torah portion at the same time. I personally find great meaning in knowing that when I’m partaking in a certain ritual (say, for example, something as simple as attending a Shabbat dinner with friends) there are Jewish people all around the world who are doing the same thing I am, at the same time (allotting for time differences of course). You would think that when it comes to the public reading of the Torah, the ancient rabbis would have been super concerned about having all Jews being on the same page (literally).

The portion of Shemini is the third portion in the book of Leviticus (the third of the five books of Moses), which is often referred to as the “priestly code,” and which spends a significant amount of time focusing on “sanctification.” In Leviticus, we learn that speech carries significant power, stressing the need for us to sanctify what goes forth from our mouths. So too, in Shemini in particular, we learn the value of sanctifying what goes into our mouths in the form of the primary kosher laws (in case you didn’t know, we learn in Shemini that pigs are not kosher… sorry to disappoint!).

It is this idea of “sanctification” – of making otherwise ordinary endeavors into holy actions, which can help us cope with any feelings we might have of being out of synch in our lives. While this week for me it’s a literal being out of synch, as the Torah portion we read outside of Israel differs from the one being read in Israel, so too can we be out of synch, for example, when we’ve failed to celebrate a Jewish holiday in a way that’s meaningful to us, when we stray from our inherited morals or values, and/or when we lose sight of the bigger picture.

The way to combat such feelings is by finding opportunities to make holy (if you prefer, to make “special”) those things that might otherwise be ordinary.

The next time you sit down to a meal, rather than diving right in, take a moment to reflect on the food in front of you and how blessed you are to be able to eat in a world where many go hungry. In doing so, you’re elevating the meal, making the meal special.

If you’re struggling to find the time to read a book you’ve been dying to have a chance to curl up with, pull out your calendar and set aside a certain amount of time each week, on a particular day of the week (might I recommend Saturday?), that you designate as “reading time.” In doing so, you’re distinguishing between the rest of the week and a time especially dedicated to your personal relaxation and joy.

There is undoubtedly something to be said for all of the world’s Jews being in synch and on the same page. I would argue however that the ancient rabbis (who understood the implications of establishing certain holidays as 8 days outside of Israel) knew that literally being on the same page is nowhere near as important as all Jews being in synch with regard to striving to add holiness to our lives by increasing the number of elevated moments we experience, both individually and within community.

Looking ahead, try to consciously set aside a few moments each week that you believe have the potential to be elevated from the ordinary into something meaningful and holy. And then, live those moments, knowing that you are without question in synch with Jews everywhere.

You shall teach it to your... parents?

Passover 5772

On four occasions, the Torah instructs parents to teach their children the story of Passover. (As a fun fact, it’s as a result of the four verses that the ancient rabbis created the portion of the Haggadah dealing with “the four sons”).

During this past week’s second Seder, I found that I was actually the youngest person at the Seder table. My little brother has been married for a bit under 2 years and spent the second Seder night with his wife’s family. My little sister is studying abroad in Jerusalem for the semester. So I, the 28-year-old (who has done quite a bit of study on Jewish topics and Passover in particular), had the pleasure of chanting the ma nishtana.

Needless to say, I knew the answers to the question before I asked it (take a closer look – it’s only 1 question, not 4!). I knew that the night was different from all other nights because we eat only matzah, we eat bitter herbs, we dip twice and we all recline. I even knew that these were not the original answers given to the question, as they had changed over time. But as the youngest person at my parents’ table, it was my responsibility to be the question asker.

There has been quite a bit of press lately focusing on extended adolescence and how my generation is the “failure to launch” generation.

At what point do we cease being children?

Is it upon bar/bat mitzvah? When we leave for college? When we pay our own rent for the first time? When we become parents ourselves? Once our parents pass away? Never?

Given that so few non-Orthodox Jewish couples have children while in their 20s, what does it mean for those of us who do not yet have children (if we aspire to at all), but view ourselves as adults, to participate in the Seder?

If we’ve already been educated about the holiday (many of us arguably to a level much greater than our parents), how do we balance being the youngest yet most knowledgeable about the holiday at the table with the Biblical imperative of “teach your children” that accompanies the Passover holiday?

I’m going to suggest an additional Passover imperative, to accompany and supplement the traditional imperative.

For those of us who have reached adulthood, however we may define it, it is imperative that we take it upon ourselves both to learn and to teach. Learn from those who know more than you, regardless of their age. Frankly, there are many things to be learned from those who “know less” than you as well. Be a sponge for wisdom and tradition. And then be a transmitter and teacher, to your children if and when you have them, and to others who are similarly seeking to learn, regardless of their age.

On Passover, we celebrate our freedom. Being able to ask questions is arguably the greatest expression of freedom. Ask questions. Learn as much as you can. And be sure to take the time to share what you’ve learned with others.

Chag sameach and Shabbat shalom!

A FRESH Take on Passover

Passover 2012 / 5772

We’re taught that on Passover we’re meant to experience the Exodus story as if we ourselves had come out of Egypt…

Now this is a story all about how

My life got flipped turned upside down

Now I’d like to take a minute just sit right there

I’ll tell you how I was freed from Egypt and how my story ain’t rare

In bondage in Egypt born and raised

Brickmaking with my brothers is how I spent most of my days

Grinding and mashing and using all sorts of tools

Just minding my business and avoiding taskmaster fools

When all of a sudden God did something none of us could

And started bringing plagues to Pharaoh’s neighborhood

From blood to slaying babies eventually Pharaoh got scared

So Moses said “You’re heading into freedom! Go quickly bake bread to prepare!”

I started to bake the bread feeling redemption was near

But worried how to keep it fresh because the timeline wasn’t clear

If anything I figured unleavened cakes made with care

Would remain preserved despite extended exposure to fresh air

We crossed over the sea after very little wait

And we sang in celebration “Yo Egyptians, catch ya later”

Brought to Mt. Sinai, Moses provided tablets – a pair!

Now we tell our children the story so they too will be aware.

Wishing you and yours a meaningful and joyous Passover.