Category: Parashah

The Priestly Blessing- A message of hope deliberately placed

 

Naso by Yoram Raanan

The Priestly Blessing is a message of hope in a troubled world.  We have long wondered about the Priestly Blessing being placed in Parshat Naso.  Many have posited it was out of place, belonging instead in Leviticus (9:22) when Aaron is told to bless the people.  But I believe it is placed here purposefully as a message of assurance,  to make sure we understand how important we are to each other and to the Almighty.

Naso contains a census of the Tribe of Gershon, the extraordinary stories of the Sotah, a test for the unfaithful wife, and the issues surrounding the intense vows of becoming a Nazirite. And only then do we read the Priestly Blessing;  The three-line expansive blessing upon each of us that God protects us, is kind to us, and grants peace to us.  It is actually the perfect response to the perplexing and difficult issues that preceded.

We are told we count. That was central in the previous Parsha, BeMidbar, and reiterated as the census to count the Gershonites.   But then we are confronted with the Sotah and the Nazirite, as if to ask are there times when we do not count.  We all struggle with life.  We seek God’s blessings, we seek meaning, we seek good things, namely peace and a good life.  But we find ourselves going off the rails.  When this happens are we cut off from God’s blessing?

The Sotah is about accusations of infidelity.  But in the absence of anything but circumstantial evidence, the magical test is administered by the Priest.  The gravitas of this must be overwhelming.  But even if a woman survived the test, would her husband fully welcome her home, without harboring some suspicions.  Would trust ever be restored fully?  Would others in the community maintain lingering doubts, rumors, and stories placing an indelible stain on the woman’s reputation?

Someone taking the vow of a Nazirite  may do it for lofty purpose, but based on our understanding of the things that motivate such action, we see the wisdom of Gersonides’ analysis that, A person takes such a vow to silence the unhealthy turmoil inside a person arising from a physical desire that might lead one to sin.  Does the person who needed to take the Nazirite vow feel rejuvenated or reborn when the vow is complete?  Does the thing that required such focus continue to linger in their souls?  Such impulses can extend beyond lust to other impulses that can plague us emotionally or spiritually.

The Priestly Blessing is deliberately and thoughtfully placed here to say we struggle and we continue to struggle.  It comes at us from all angles.  It is part of being human in a world that is often fraught and difficult.  Each of us has a struggle, a demon, a bad action, a feeling of inadequacy.  It is part of who we are as human beings.

The Priestly Blessing is a wish for wholeness, a wish for Peace in an unpeaceful world.  The Priestly Blessing is a wish for Peace; it is our yearning that these struggles do not mire us in a life that feels dark or hopeless.  It is the profound hope that God is there to love and protect us even when we feel we have strayed so far away that we are beyond the reach of even the Almighty’s loving protective wings of peace.

Hope remains.  God is there.  We are not alone.

May the Almighty Bless you and Protect you.

May the Almighty deal kindly and graciously with you.

May the Almighty bestow Divine favor upon you, granting you wholeness and peace.

Shabbat Shalom.

 

 

Rabbi David Levin is a second career rabbi.  Trained at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, Rabbi Levin’s rabbinate focuses on outreach to seekers of meaning, bringing Jewish Wisdom to their life journey.  Rabbi Levin’s work is trans-denominational, embracing and drawing knowledge from all aspects of Judaism. He is a member of the CCAR (Reform Rabbinical Association), OHALA (Renewal Rabbinical Association), NAJC (Neshama, Association of Jewish Chaplains), a Fellow of Rabbis Without Borders, serves on the regional board of NIF (New Israel Fund), and is a volunteer on the Disaster Spiritual Care Team of the American Red Cross.

Rabbi Levin currently teaches The Ethical Will Re-Imagined, as well as Mussar at the Jack M. Barrack Hebrew Academy, Introduction to Judaism for the URJ, “Kavod v’Nichum, Understanding Jewish end-of-life rituals”, and the acclaimed series “L’Chaim, Jewish Wisdom for the End of Life Journey” with two esteemed rabbinic colleagues. Rabbi Levin officiates in complex lifecycle events including non-traditional burial and work with interfaith couples.   Rabbi David leads interfaith trips to Israel through the CLAL Stand and See project.  Rabbi Levin is the organizer of Death Café of Greater Philadelphia

 

BaMidbar-In the Desert and Everywhere, Everyone counts

As social beings we seek relationships as a way of making meaning. We need to connect to other people’s lives, believing we have something to contribute, and through this validating our own self. We want to count. Each of us is busy, absorbed in our own world with scarce time to think of others. We often find ourselves shunted aside, neglected or forgotten, not because of anything malicious, but because each of us become so focused on the day to day challenges, we forget to reach out and are often left feeling alone. This can be discouraging and even make us doubt our own value. This week’s Torah portion BaMidbar reminds us however, that indeed we are important.

This first chapter of the book of Numbers has the Israelites out wandering in the desert, in the Midbar. But translating the word as desert is deceptive. We picture a desert as a vast place, devoid of life, empty, and forbidding. But the desert is actually a place teeming with life, a place of overwhelming beauty, and an awesome night sky filled with countless stars. It is the place where the children descended from Israel/Jacob become the People/nation of Israel. The Children of Israel are forged in this harsh climate, and preparing to enter the Promised Land. It is a time of growing where everyone is needed to build the nation. Everyone counts.

The idea that everyone counts is so important that God instructs Moses to conduct a census. God appoints leaders of each clan to do help in this important work of accounting for everyone so the greater task of building the nation can occur. As it says in Numbers 1:19, “As the Lord commanded Moses, so did he count them in the Sinai desert.” The desert is a place of accounting, revelation and building, and revealing that each of us has a critical role to play. At this time, nothing is of greater importance.

Even the word BaMidbar speaks to our significance and meaning. The word shares the same letters as the word for speaking or speaker, Midaber. The word BaMidbar that we translate as “in the desert,” could be, “ in the speaking”, or “in the speaker.” Each person has an important contribution to make to the whole. It was true in the Sinai, also it is also true now. The desert is far more than what it might seem on the surface. The Torah portion shares that the Midbar is an extraordinary place of discovery- finding our place, finding our purpose, and finding our connection to things greater than ourselves, our family and our people. BaMidbar teaches that I am worthy of being counted- that I do count!

Each of us counts. Each of us has something worthwhile to say and something important to give. Our life experiences have created a wealth of knowledge and wisdom. We are teachers and caregivers, learning, practicing, educating, and demonstrating what it means to be human, what it means to make meaning in the lives of others and in our own lives as well. That makes each of us significant.

Each of us counts.

How will you look back on your life?

As we begin the last book of the Torah, Moses confronts this question in Parshat Devarim.

Even the title begs the question.  Devarim, what are the words and things?   What is the story we will tell to those we hope will carry it in their hearts after we are gone?

For most of us, this requires us to project forward in order to look back.  But it cannot be make-believe; our legacy will be based on the life we live.  The things we do will be the basis for the memories our loved ones will recall.  How we touch their lives will define whether they can celebrate having had us in their lives.  Our legacy will not have the great accomplishments of Moses, of course as our tradition tells us, there has never been another like Moses. Our legacy will be the impact and influence we have had on our loved ones.  But will we be the best version of ourselves?

The story is told of Reb Zusya, the Chasidic Master, who struggled at the end of his life.  He awoke panicked from a dream about the prospect of entering Heaven.  His students tried to support their beloved teacher claiming he was indeed great like Moses and Abraham.  Zusya replied that he knew that God would not compare him to Moses and Abraham but instead, God would ask why Zusya wasn’t more like Zusya?

If we do not live up to all that we can be, we do not realize our full potential.  And importantly, we let ourselves and our loved ones down.  Only we can write our story by living our lives as best and as fully as we can.  Then we will truly leave a worthy inheritance, a life of merit and honor, of love and accomplishment that will touch the hearts of those we care about.

 

 

Your Legacy and Your Loved Ones

Your loved ones are your legacy.  That is an important message I learned from last week’s Torah Portion Pinchas. We must consciously remember those closest to us, especially even when our work, our mission, or our very essence might have us focus on everyone else.

Pinchas’ legacy is established in the aftermath of his zealotry.  The legacy of Zelophehad is also set; his daughters ensuring their father’s name is not lost and they can be rightful inheritors of his property.  Moses passes the mantle of leadership to Joshua as part of his legacy. However, two people are glaringly missing: Gershom and Eliezer, the two children of Moses. What happened to them?

We can only imagine the ambivalence of these two sons watching their father in all his greatness.  They see him lead with the most profound wisdom and love for both his people and God, yet he loses sight of his own children. It is a sad state of affairs for these two children to be ignored. The text screams out in its complete silence; for there is no mention of them at all. It is a modern-day message to all of us.

How often do we neglect our own?  For many of us in the “caring” professions, the demanding hours prioritize others over family. For those of us in the clergy, the RKs (Rabbi’s Kids) often complain they are neglected because their parent is so busy actively involved in the lives of the congregants they serve.  And those of us dedicated to building a career, we find long hours away from our children the price we pay for success.

For us to leave a truly worthy legacy, even the greatest among us need to make time for those closest to us.  We all have shortcomings and with the benefit of hindsight, we all know where we could have done better.  But more importantly, we need to know in our hearts that we do the very best we can and what we do is for the benefit of our family. For if we do that, then our children will know that they were loved. And that is the most beautiful blessing and legacy of all.

 

Jethro, Ideal Father-in-Law and a man for our times

Jan_van_Bronchorst_-_Jethro_advising_Moses

Last week we read Parshat Yitro. It is filled with extraordinary things particularly the story of the title character Yitro and his interaction with Moses and the Children of Israel.

Yitro joins up with the people of the Exodus in support of their leader, his son-in-law Moses, if not in support of their journey to the Promised Land. I am taken by Jethro’s selflessness and righteousness.   For Jethro isn’t just any father-in-law, he is a priest of the Midianites. Arguably, his allegiance should be with his people, but Jethro never misunderstands that to mean he should undermine Moses.

It would be easy for Jethro to take advantage of the turmoil in B’nei Israel and steer them towards Midian, immigrants likely ready to offer their experience as slave labor in exchange for food, shelter, and security. Instead, he helps Moses organize a system that brings justice and order to the chaos, strengthening the fledgling institutions under Moses. Jethro remains in the background and not proselytizing, although he was likely a far better communicator than Moses. Finally, once Jethro shared all that he could teach Moses, he departed so that the leadership of Moses would not be challenged if people saw the power behind the power.

Jethro did not abuse his power. Indeed, he deftly manipulated his power into support of Moses. As a Midianite Priest, his worldviews and religion were different from the Children of Israel. However, he was respectful of the “other” and helped them flourish on their particular journey.

We can be different. My beliefs do not require a negation of your beliefs. We can co-exist, cooperate and even consider ourselves connected as part of a larger family. Not only a model father-in-law, Jethro is the model leader for civil pluralistic society for today as well.

Timelessness our Eternal Journey

 

The Twelve Tribes by Yoram Raanan

The recent New York Times article We aren’t built to live in the moment by Martin Seligman and John Tierney proposes that it is humankind’s ability to contemplate the future that makes us unique as a species. This insightful article comes as we begin the book of BaMidbar. BaMidbar is our story in the Wilderness, a place of infinite beauty and discovery, a place where time seems to stand still. How timely is it that we read this article and this Parsha come together this week and we witness Torah’s expansiveness.

 

We are often thought of as the “People of the Book,” which often is interpreted to mean that we are also a people of memory. These memories have been codified and handed down for generations to help us with issues of meaning and morality. An extraordinary part of our journey is recounted in the book of Numbers, BaMidbar. The opening parashah starts with a census. Through the census, we are taking stock of who we are. The counting itself is based on the past, coming together into one place in preparation for moving forward under God’s guidance.

This melding of our past, present and future parallels our conception of God. The Tetragrammaton, YHVH, the four letter name we use for God is understood as a timeless representation of the Eternal One, embodying the past, the present, and the future.

All is intertwined. And that is part of the extraordinary wisdom of Judaism. Past, present, and future are inextricably bound together. We cannot understand who we are or begin to ask the deeper question, why we are until we comprehend that our past, our present, and our future all inform us. We cannot fully exist without these three pillars. It is they together that create our meaning, our context. The hope of Olam Haba, the World to Come, is a vision that we see in the present based on the place from which we have come. Past, present and future unified. BaMidbar is part of the unfolding story of our people, timeless like our God.

The Good Guys Won in Philadelphia- A new twist on Terumah

This week’s Parashat Terumah is about the building the Mishkan, the Holy Sanctuary the people built so God could dwell amongst them.

How interesting to think about this Torah portion in light of the incident at Mount Carmel Cemetery. Acts of cowardice reflecting hatred and bigotry have been turned into sacred and holy work where a community has come together as a holy congregation building and re-consecrating this final resting place. The ugliness of desecration has been turned on its head creating the beauty of one community coming together supporting each other in a time of need. The law of unintended consequences or perhaps the Divine that lives in each of us has taken the act of thugs and transformed it into something remarkable. The outpourings of love by the people of greater Philadelphia have brought a profound sense of hope where despair might have otherwise prevailed. It is almost overwhelming. We have more volunteers wanting to assist in this sacred work of rebuilding than we have space available. Faith leaders, politicians, and just regular people have all come together as one.

Through the rebuilding of Mt. Carmel, Philadelphians are demonstrating a profound love for each other, putting those who would seek to divide us with hatred on notice. Whether the acts of depraved individuals or something more widespread, the forces of darkness have not triumphed over the light shining in our sacred community of Philadelphia. The outpouring of my community of my country heartens me. I am deeply grateful to live here in Philadelphia in these interesting times.

Hate has no home here. Together we Stand Against Hate.

 

Listen as Cantor Julia Cadrain of Central Synagogue (NYC) sings Sanctuary:

How do you Reconcile after Estrangement?

 

Vayigash continues unfolding the stories from last week’s parashah Mikeitz between Joseph and his brothers. Joseph, Judah, Reuven are all revealing their struggles. How each remembers what transpired years before tells us much about the individuals and how they will approach meeting each other again: Joseph, It is all meant to be; Judah, I feel guilt and remorse but I have grown from the pain; Reuven, I was right, if only you listened, we would not be here now. Their stories contain rationalizations, denials, anger and other emotional responses to bad experiences that drive people apart.

These memories also demonstrate that whatever the facts, each of us processes and remembers differently. For movie buffs like me, this is summed up for me in the Maurice Chevalier song from the movie Gigi, I Remember it Well:

“We met at nine, we met at eight,  I was on time, no, you were late
Ah, yes, I remember it well.
We dined with friends, we dined alone,  A tenor sang, a baritone
Ah, yes, I remember it well…”

Each of us remembers in our own way. We process and create a memory that becomes the story. Sometimes it aligns with the facts more closely than at other times. I have often recounted events very differently than how my wife remembered it. We all have seen other couples, as in Gigi, do likewise, disagreeing on many points as to things actually occurred. It is hard enough with partners committed to each other. But when there is estrangement, such as with Joseph and his brothers, reconnecting with someone when there are opposing narratives becomes even harder.

These stories often contain a hero and a villain mixed with the things that created the initial rift, ultimately forming the chasm between them and us.  As we move toward reconnecting, we start with a premise that reconnecting is a good thing, serving a greater purpose than whatever caused the rift. So whether we are reconnecting with a long-lost brother, estranged child, forsaken lover, we need to find forgiveness, for either them or ourselves, and acceptance of them and their different story.

We delve into the details later on perhaps, learning the other’s narrative that described the event and the motivations that were present in the moment. We create a rapprochement that can lead to a new phase of an actively engaged relationship with our long-lost other, picking up where we left off so long ago, informed by the past, but now older and wiser.

This, however, may never come to be. Vayigash is filled with many seemingly serendipitous moments that all had to happen in order for Jacob’s family reunite, move beyond the wounds each person carried, and then heal. But even with serendipity, coincidence, or the hand of God guiding the process, it is ultimately up to each of us to reach out to the other with forgiveness in order to move forward together.

What the Spies of Shlach ask us about ourselves

There is a TV commercial that distinguishes between simply monitoring and actively preventing identity theft. A violent bank robbery is in process. The monitor surveys the situation as the customers fall to the floor imploring this uniformed man to take action. He responds that he is merely a monitor; taking action is not his job. And yes indeed, there is a bank robbery underway.

shlachThe story of the spies in Parshat Shlach seems similar. Twelve men were selected and sent out to survey the land of Canaan and report back. They did what was asked and reported what they believed they saw. An insightful rabbi taught me that the answer to a question depends on the question you ask. It also depends on the nature of the respondent.

These were twelve men, “…one man each from his father’s tribe; each one shall be a chieftain in their midst” (Num. 13:2). They were leaders within their respective clans, but were they capable as conquerors? The Hebrew word is Nasi, or Prince. They were princes of the individual tribes but not necessarily the top dog, or the General of the Army to use a military term. So were these spies conquerors or bureaucrats, men of action or fearful men of complacency and conservatism?

Had the idea of freedom and freedom’s responsibilities permeated this new Israelite society? It

Spies Scout Out the Land by Yoram Raanan
Spies Scout Out the Land by Yoram Raanan

seems not; for only two spies, Caleb and Joshua believed they could actually overcome their foes and possess the land. It is possible that a deliberate selection of strategists and warriors as the twelve spies would have yielded a unanimous joining of Caleb’s assessment that they could vanquish the Canaanites. However, the spies’ ability to sway the people indicated that the Israelite people were not yet ready to enter the Land and receive the promise and responsibilities that go with it.

We also, both individually and collectively, need to ask ourselves which are we? Are we agents of change like Caleb and Joshua, or agents of the status quo? Are we willing to find ways to achieve lofty goals or fearful of the risks and unwilling to reach for more hoping to preserve what we have? Often, trying to maintain the status quo is riskier than taking the chance to make something better.  Although we should always be grateful for what we have, when it comes to values such as human rights, peace, justice, equality, and security, we can always aspire to something greater. The question remains, Are we willing to take the risk?