Yedid Nefesh at the beginning of Kabbalat Shabbat, we are looking to find a way to bring us closer to God, setting the mood for welcoming Shabbat. Asaph Neve Shalom shares our love poem.
Shabbat Shalom
Yedid Nefesh at the beginning of Kabbalat Shabbat, we are looking to find a way to bring us closer to God, setting the mood for welcoming Shabbat. Asaph Neve Shalom shares our love poem.
Shabbat Shalom
Within this parsha lies an extraordinary verse. As you will recall, Miriam contracted leprosy and was consigned outside the camp until she recovered. This comes on the heels of what Moses could see as a betrayal of him by Miriam, challenging his authority as the leader of the people. However, putting aside personal hurt, Moses prays to God for her recovery, saying, “El nah refanah lah. Please, God, heal her.” Moses teaches us to embrace our humanity and our need for human relationships, not mired in anger, but to replace retribution with reconciliation and to do the right thing.
In the words of the modern prophet Ted Lasso in response to Nate’s return as the prodigal son, “I hope that either all of us, or none of us, are judged by the actions of our weakest moments, but rather, by the strength we show when and if we are ever given a second chance.”
May their words serve as lessons for us to be better, more deeply human, and connected.
Koolulam is a social-musical initiative aimed at strengthening the fabric of society. The project centers around mass singing events in which large groups of non-professionals come together to form a collaborative musical creation. Koolulam brings together people from all walks of life to do one thing: stop everything for a few hours and just sing – together.
Shabbat Shalom
We are on the way to Sinai; Today is the 8th day of the Omer, which is one week and one day of the Omer. Another 41 days to go. It is an extraordinary journey. This song is a way of lightening the mood as we prepare to welcome Shabbat.
Shabbat Shalom
If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you…(If, by Rudyard Kipling)
How do I handle competing demands? What do I require for myself, and what do my obligations to others require? This delicate balancing act requires profound self-knowledge based on the preparation that helps us reconcile the sometimes competing if not outright conflicting, needs. Aaron demonstrates how to navigate these tricky waters in Parshat Shemini.
We encounter this repeatedly in our life journey; the competing demands of work and family are familiar to all of us, and we often find we can do only one at the expense of the other. Which takes priority? Can they weave together? This is our dilemma.
The answer is grounded in self-understanding.
The Talmud often weaves its machloket (discussions) around understanding competing values, holding two things in tension, and understanding the core values under different circumstances. We study and learn about who we are, what grounds us, and what motivates us, sometimes creating a hierarchy placing specific values above others. Contemplating the question, “Who am I?” even in troubling circumstances, we maintain ourselves and do not get consumed by the events but move through them, as complicated as the test may be. That is Shemini.
The Eighth Day, Shemini, is momentous; Aaron is to be initiated as High Priest. But by singling out the eighth day, the Torah shows us that the seven days preceding it are also significant–they constitute the formative period that brings us to a critical moment and beyond.
Aaron and his sons underwent thorough planning to assume the priesthood. Moses remained High Priest until he was assured that the training was complete and Aaron and his sons were fully ready. And then, catastrophe.
Nadav and Abihu approached God with “alien fire” and were themselves consumed. We ask ourselves why, and we wrestle trying to understand. If the crime was drunkenness, as our texts and commentators suggest, the punishment of death seems extreme. Perhaps we are trying to explain the unexplainable.
The deaths of Nadav and Abihu may have been just that; a catastrophic event that seems capricious and arbitrary. Such things happen all the time. Therefore, the question is not why this happened but how we respond when disaster comes.
We cannot imagine the overwhelming shock and pain Aaron experienced, but we can conjure ideas of how we might respond. Break down in overwhelming grief, rail against God, fall on his face and rend his clothes, publicly grieve the loss of his sons, go off to be with them and bury them, and turn his back on the priesthood. The list goes on. But that is not what Aaron did.
Aaron remained silent, although shaken to his core at the brutal death of his two sons. The commentators struggle with this silence. As a father, his initial instinct would be to mourn his two sons’ loss immediately. Nachmanides, the 13th C. Sephardic commentator, suggests the silence came after he stopped crying. Rashbam, the 12th C. commentator from Northern France and Rashi’s grandson, explains that Moses intercedes, reminding Aaron he must continue the sacred service already underway, as Aaron was just invested as High Priest and charged with the well-being of the entire people.
Wisdom is usually considered the province of the elder. The hoary head of age is a badge indicating a lived life and the experiences of that life. But experiences are merely knowledge. Once we acquire knowledge, we must embrace it as a life lesson and part of our value system and then judiciously offer it to circumstances in the future; only then can we claim to possess wisdom. Aaron arguably attains wisdom. It is borne from a horrific experience and will guide him throughout the rest of his journey.
Our commentators focus on the verse that explains drunkenness. Rashi sees this as God speaking directly to Aaron, a reward for maintaining his comportment. I suggest it is Aaron comprehending the wisdom of priesthood and the particular responsibilities of that responsibility. This wisdom is for him and the others of the priestly class and as a model for the rest of us.
The people look to Aaron as an exemplar and intercessor with God. This unique stature required Aaron to maintain his composure and dignity, continuing his work in the face of this loss. However, Aaron does not participate in the offering and, in this separation, remains connected to his sons as a mourner.
We have all encountered the moment of decision. There are two paths forward, forcing us to choose the most critical. Although many of us could not comprehend how Aaron could continue his priestly duties, many of us understand there was no other way forward for him. Regardless, we must understand ourselves well enough to determine what we would do when faced with such a test.
Only through preparation or self-awareness can we know how to respond to crises, calamities, or even the everyday things that require tradeoffs. These are not the choices of good versus evil. They are the more nuanced choices, often of good versus good, that are more complex and difficult. How do we maintain who we are and uphold the values we hold dear if we have yet to explore either concept? Only through knowing one’s self can one authentically move forward.
Ironically, the verse from Deuteronomy (30.19) resonates in such complex space, “I call heaven and earth as witnesses today against you, I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore, choose life, that both you and your descendants may live.” Therefore, we need to understand the meaning of choosing life. Indeed, even the unspeakable horror of losing a child still requires us to find a way forward in our lives and for others.
This is dynamic and constantly changing, yet, we continue to live and grow broadly from our experiences on this journey. Our self-understanding evolves, and wisdom permits us the opportunity to navigate a path forward.
The Ark in the Noah story is a craft beholden to wind, rain, and sea currents. It bobs on the water until it finally hits land. A sailboat, on the other hand, is different. Although it, too, is subject to the currents and constantly being pushed off course, it has rudder, keel, and sails. With these tools, the skilled and prepared pilot keeps the ship following the stars toward the intended destination. So too, can we as we grow older and wiser. We’ve prepared for the journey and its eventualities and can respond with that wisdom. This is the message of Shemini.
Six13 brings us a welcome to this Shabbat with the Prince of Egypt medley.
Enjoy the music and the story in the lyrics. Count the Omer with us as we travel towards Sinai.
Shabbat Shalom
As we rise toward Shabbat, this song I found on Ulpan La-Inyan by Shai Gabso, I lift My head- Arim Roshi, offers us a chance to reflect at the end of another tumultuous week.
Shabbat Shalom
We Rise!
Sung by Batya Levine and members of Hadar, we welcome Shabbat in song. As we pray for the Peace of Jerusalem, we know there is much work to be done.
Let us Rise together-
Shabbat Shalom
In these particularly turbulent times, this pensive song from the incomparable Rabbi Debra Sacks Mintz is a soulful prayer to help us enter Shabbat.
May peace and wholeness come to all.
Shabbat Shalom
Love (with)… all your perfect imperfections
John Legend’s beautiful song All of me, inspired by his love for his wife, Chrissy, moved and inspired many of us with the romance. But what happens when reality falls so far short of the romantic vision, pushing the boundaries of acceptable, even tolerable? Unfortunately, divorce is often the result.
I am struggling with my relationship with Israel. The aspirations of our ancient homeland land and our history drew me to the miracle that was and, in many ways, continues to be this place. But the state is pressing on issues such as racism, tolerance for pluralism, and checks and balances in government. I was suckled in a mythic Israel but have learned to ween myself, given the practicalities of a nation-state that cannot live solely by the hopes and dreams of the Jewish people. However, as Ben Gurion understood, to be a nation like other nations. It was a pragmatic understanding of survival in the harsh real world. Today, the ideals of a homeland that is both Jewish and a democracy are threatened by raw political power and expediency.
We had come to accept Jewish and Democracy in tension. But, for the first time, we face the existential crisis of threatening both. The fractious rough and tumble nature of Israeli politics and the need to form a governing coalition in Knesset has brought us to a new place.
Over time, we developed complacency in our attitudes. Israel, as a Jewish Democratic state, was always considered a given. Laws and policies often were merely annoyances and opportunities for workarounds. “Religious” marriage meant a weekend in Cyprus. The orthodox church that has become the Kotel was not an issue for the secular. Israelis have enjoyed unprecedented prosperity and unrivaled military strength, making this a safe and secure place for most. Palestinian rights, west bank settlements, and civil rights were not on the radar screen of most and were relegated to the margins.
Then came Bibi 3.0. The assault on cherished rights, once considered unassailable, has awoken many from slumber. The protests in the streets by hundreds of thousands are sending a strong message that this is unacceptable. “Guns and butter” at any cost are not enough. The extensive unbridled settlement program is intolerable, and the Israeli terrorist response to terrorism is rightly called a pogrom. To use a familiar Jewish word, it is a Shanda.
I struggle to love the country as I continue to love the land that held a people charged to be a light unto the nations. This is my heritage. Last week during my trip to Israel with the CCAR, I was proud to be at two demonstrations in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. I was deeply moved to see the sea of Israeli flags and patriotism on display. However, I was disgusted and deeply aggrieved to be spat on when attempting to bring our Torah for Rosh Chodesh and assaulted by yeshiva bochers as trying to stop my expression of Judaism in the Kotel space.
I cannot turn my back on this precocious and precarious experiment. But I am distraught. I support those who do the work, including the Israeli Religious Action Center and the brave Women of the Wall. I also proudly support NGOs who envision a place where people can live in a shared society, including the Yad b’Yad schools and the New Israel Fund, on whose regional board I serve. I am actively considering dual citizenship, not to lessen my devotion to the United States, but to achieve a voice in shaping the destiny of Israel as only a voting citizen can do. I urge everyone to evaluate where they stand and what they want to do at this critical juncture.
No one can sit on the sidelines any longer.