Parashat B'haalotcha 5769--Saying Goodbye

It has been a true honor to write a weekly D’var Torah for the Temple Beth Sholom community these past years. Each week, I look forward to diving into Torah anew and to engaging in conversation about sacred text with you. This has been both a spiritual and learning practice for me. While I will be moving on from TBS on June 15, Torah will remain very much central to this community.

In the weeks to come, April Akiva, the incoming Director of Education, will begin writing a weekly D’var Torah for TBS. April’s keen mind and love of study is sure to enrich this community.

If you would like to continue following my weekly D’vrei Torah, you can always find me online at my Torah Blog.

If you have not already done so, I encourage you to sign up for the following insightful and meaningful D’vrei Torah:

The Union for Reform Judaism distributes a weekly Torah commentary, featuring the words of a variety of prominent scholars and rabbis from our community.

American Jewish World Service sends out a weekly Torah commentary, which highlights the connections between the weekly parashah and our own commitments to justice.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, the Chief Rabbi of England, writes an insightful weekly Torah commentary called “Covenant and Conversation.” You can sign up to receive it.

In this week’s Torah Portion, Parashat B’haaltocha, the Israelites take down their tents and travel on from their encampment at Mount Sinai. The Israelites camped at Mount Sinai from Exodus 19:1-Numbers 10:11. The Israelites were taught to watch the Divine Pillar of Cloud and Fire that rested over the Tabernacle or the mishkan. If the pillar stayed, they stayed. If the pillar lifted, they traveled. When the pillar lifted in Numbers 10:11, the Israelites knew it was time to travel onward.

I read these words anew this week. I think of our ancestors and the profound experiences they had while camped at Mount Sinai. Life changing experiences. Even though they journeyed onward, their hearts and souls were always inextricably connected to the community they created and all that they lived through at the base of the mountain.

And so I think of my own life. My time at TBS has rooted me in this community forever. Temple Beth Sholom will always be a home to me. And while I may journey onward, I remain forever connected with and grateful to this all of you. I leave deeply blessed from knowing you and honored for having had the opportunity to serve you.

Thank you for all you have given me. May your lives forever be blessed with the light of Torah and the joy of learning.

Parashat Nasso 5769--Adult B'nei Mitzvah

In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Nasso, we read the ancient words of blessing, the Priestly Benediction, creatively translated as:

The Eternal One spoke to Moses, “Speak to Aaron and his sons, ‘Thus shall you bless the people of Israel. Say to them,

May God bless you and keep you!

May God’s countenance shine up you and be gracious with you!

May God’s light shine upon you and grant you peace!'

Thus they shall link My name with the people of Israel, and I will bless them" (Numbers 6:22-27).

These words, which we utter at moments of celebration and on special holy days, provide us with a deep mystery of meaning. And while ancient commentators, like Rashi, read into this blessing promise of material wealth, spiritual fulfillment, and Divine favor, I see no such grand promises in the words. In my humble estimation, these ancient words of blessing do not speak of great rewards, enlightenment, or grandiose plans. They speak of something much more foundational, that of presence.

Any parent, pet owner, friend, child, gardener, employee, or spouse knows that presence is one of the most important and foundational gifts we can give to another person, and one of the most important gifts we can receive. Individuals thrive when they are given the blessing of another’s care, compassion, and availability. We know this to be true: No matter what life brings us what we need most is someone there with us. We need companions on our journeys.

In this week’s parashah, we are promised nothing more and nothing less than Divine Presence. Come what may, we are told, Adonai will be with us. In moments of joy and celebration, we can’t make false promises—promises of wealth, enlightenment, contentment, or good luck. Life hands us unexpected and unwelcome presents sometimes. What we can promise is presence. As God’s partners in the ongoing work of creation, we can understand that this Divine Promise is manifest in our own ability to be present for one another.

This coming Shabbat, sixteen extraordinary TBS congregants will be called to the Torah for the first time as adult b’nei mitzvah. This group and I have been studying together for the past two years. Beyond their growing competency in Hebrew and their joys of Jewish learning, they have come to understand the gift of being present. They have, in the past two years, formed a learning community, they have celebrated with one another, and they have supported one another. How fitting that they will read these words aloud to our community this Shabbat. I invite you to join us for this sacred occasion.

Beyond that, I invite you hear Torah anew this Shabbat. I invite you to consider where your presence is needed in this world, and then to offer it up. May you be blessed with divine light shining in your life, and may you bless others with your light in their.

Shavuot 5769--Standing at Mount Sinai

On Shavuot, which this year begins on Thursday night, May 28, we read the book of Ruth. The book orbits around the stories of two women, Naomi and Ruth, mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, and the relationship they create. Ruth, a Moabite, marries Naomi’s son, an Israelite. After the untimely death of her husband, Ruth pledges her loyalty to Naomi and chooses to journey with her away from Moab and back to the land of Naomi’s people.

The story of Ruth is an ancient story and the soul bearing line she delivers to her mother-in-law is one that has been remembered for generations. Ruth says, “Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God” (Ruth 1:16). With these famous words, Ruth pledges herself to her mother-in-law and to Naomi’s people. Ruth, we are taught, is the first convert to Judaism.

What is most striking about Ruth’s pledge of loyalty is the order of the verse:

• I am with you
• I will journey with you
• I will live with you
• Your people will become my own
• Your God will become my own

There are many roads into Jewish life. Our Jewish identities are often based on the choices we make along the way: The families and places from which we come, the schools and camps we attend, the places we travel to and settle in, the people we know, and the beliefs we hold central. The story of Ruth emphasizes what we all know to be true: At different stages in our lives these components hold different weight. Being Jewish does not always center around belief, ideology, or location. But, sometimes it does. Being Jewish does not always center around community, family, and friends. But sometimes it does.

Ruth understands the complexity of creating a Jewish life She understands that sometimes a close relationship with another person allows us to open our hearts to those things that person holds dear. Sometimes a move to a place brings us unexpectedly into a new Jewish community. Sometimes an existential yearning develops into a course of study, or a search for meaning leads us to a prayer practice. Life is full of doors. It is up to us which doors we choose to see, to open, and to walk through.

On this Shavuot, I invite you to consider Ruth’s pledge to Naomi anew. Ruth speaks of deep relationships, personal growth, created community, articulated meaning, and spiritual curiosity.

Which aspects of this pledge resonate closest to your current life experiences? What fills your life?

Which aspects of this pledge feel far from where you are right now? What is missing from your life?

On Shavuot, we stand again at Mount Sinai and receive Torah anew. We have the ability to articulate the Torah of our lives. We have the ability to choose what we will value and what will shape our existence. On this Shavuot, as you stand at Sinai once again, open your heart to choosing your life anew. Who knows where it might take you!

Parashat Bamidbar 5769--the roots of existence

This week we begin a new Book of Torah, the book of Bamidbar or Numbers. Bamidbar begins with a census taking. All of the Israelites are counted and the number comes to 600,000. There are many famous commentaries on this counting. One of my favorites comes from the Sefat Emet, a collection of hasidic teachings written on the weekly Torah portions. The Sefat Emet was written by Rabbi Yehudah Leib Alter, and was published in Poland in the first years of the twentieth century.

The Sefat Emet explains:

The midrash refers to this counting of the children of Israel as being ‘like the scribe’s count.’ Just as the Torah has words and letters that are subject to counting but its root is high above, beyond all count, so, too, are the souls of Israel countable in this world, while in their root they are beyond number. Thus the holy books say that the 600,000 Jews [who came out of Egypt] are parallel to the 600,000 letters in the Torah.

The Sefat Emet cites here a well known mystical teaching, one which equates the number of souls that came out of Egypt with the number of letters in the Torah. While the Torah actually has just over 300,000 letters in it, the spiritual lesson here is worth reflecting upon.

Two questions to consider:

1. Why would Jewish mystics make this link between people and letters?
2. Why would Jewish mystics assert that the roots of both letters and people were beyond their counting?

The answers to both questions lie within the Sefat Emet itself:

The Torah that lies before us is in the garb of Torah. It is by means of study that we arouse the force that lies within it. That is the real power of Israel: to awaken the root of Torah. For the same is true of the human soul; the nefesh is but the garb of the neshamah that lies within it. And that neshamah, or deeper soul, is part of God above.

Mystical Jewish teachers believe that the Torah as we know it (the Torah of letters and words) is actually only a garb, a cloak covering the real essence (the roots) of Torah. It is by study and deeper reflection that we are able to unlock the true Torah from its shell. The same is true of human beings. The true essence of who we are (our roots) is covered by our shell. Underneath that shell is our truest form, our neshamah, our deeper soul, the divine spark within us. That divine spark is only unleashed when we attend to our own spiritual work and contemplation.

According to the mystics, what we see around us, including Torah and ourselves, is only the outer layer of true existence. If we take the time to peel back that which is apparent, we will uncover the true deeper unity that defines existence.

Our spiritual work this Shabbat is clear: Let us take moments to search beyond the obvious, to peer into the core of what we know, and open ourselves up to the deeper reality that pulsates all around us.

Parashat Behar-B'hukkotai 5769--Gardening

I am growing a vegetable garden for the first time. Words cannot describe to you the deep delight I feel each morning as I walk out to my garden patch, coffee cup in hand, ready to see what happened over night. I feel the wonder of a small child. I examine each and every new bud, watch small peppers and strawberries beginning to form, help pea vines cling to their trellis, carefully water delicate leaves, and smell the fragrant herb leaves. It is like a mini Eden. And it is one of the most “Jewish” things I am doing these days.

A recent article in LA Times reported:

With Sabbath candles burning and 14 guests seated around her dinner table, Joanna Arch held up a cup of kosher red wine and chanted the kiddish prayer in Hebrew:

"God blessed the seventh day and made it holy because on it he rested from all his creative work."

As is the custom, the guests observed the holy day of rest with a meal, but with a twist: They were sharing a "sustainable" Sabbath dinner on this Friday evening, with food that was locally grown, mostly organic and intended to elevate their practice of Judaism.

Click here to read the rest of the article.

There is a current flowing through our world right now, one which links the renewed (organic victory) gardening movement with spiritual traditions.

Since Torah times, our tradition has expressed a deep connection between Jewish life and the land we live on. In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Behar-Bechukotai, we read of this connection. “Adonai spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai: Speak to the Israelite people and say to them: When you enter the land that I assign to you, the land shall observe a Shabbat of Adonai. Six years you may sow your field and six years you may prune your vineyard and gather in the yield” (Leviticus 25:1-3)

Our Torah makes the assumption that the Israelites were a people who tilled the land. In fact, the Israelites work the land to such an extent that the land needed its own a Shabbat, a year-long rest. (I wrote of this relationship in my D’var Torah last year http://rabbihudson.blogspot.com/2008/05/parashat-behar-5768.html) And I wonder: Might we need to take a reverse approach? Is it time for our community to make a commitment to a year of planting?

In a recent edition of National Public Radio’s Speaking of Faith, Krista Tippett interviewed theologian Vigen Guroian in a segment called, “Restoring the Senses,” which explored the relationship between Greek Orthodox Easter and gardening. Some of Guroian’s writings, as well as a downloadable podcast, can be found here. And, while it is clear that Guroian is speaking from a faith tradition different from our own, his message is clear: one encounters creation when one grows new life.

In times of uncertainty and change, planting a few seeds or starters and watching them grow can be deeply centering and fulfilling. It can also be a reminder of our tradition’s deeper commitments to food, ethical eating, and creating a sustainable world (check out Hazon for more on this). On this Shabbat, let us re-explore our relationship with ourselves and our world by re-connecting with the land.

Inch by inch, row by row.

Parashat Emor 5769--Rally for Darfur

On Sunday, May 17, at 2:30 p.m. the Orange County Jewish community will join together at Mile Square Park for an unprecedented action. Together, we will stand side by side and march in a Rally for Darfur. Together as one community, we will protest the ongoing slaughter taking place in Darfur, Sudan.

Many of you gathered last Sunday to hear Holocaust Survivor Leon Leyson speak at Temple Beth Sholom. Still others joined two weeks ago with Hadassah to hear TBS Congregant and Holocaust Survivor Sarah Schweitz’s story, and still others joined with our TBS Teens to hear Jenny Unterman’s story. Yes, we have been deeply honored to have many in our Orange County community come together to hear first-hand accounts of the horrors of the Shoah, the Holocaust, in commemoration of Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Memorial Day, which took place on Tuesday, April 21.

We say “Never Again” and we gather to hear the sacred memories of those in our community who suffered at the hands of the Nazis. We say “Never Again,” and yet violence continues in our world. What is our moral responsibility as a Jewish people when we witness acts of violence and genocide in our own times?

This week’s Torah portion, Parashat Emor, continues to explore that which makes life holy and ritually pure. Like the rest of Leviticus, Parashat Emor goes to great lengths to describe details of ritual purity, including the ways in which Israelite priests must remain ritually pure, as well as the rhythm of the Jewish holy days. And, while the ancient particulars of the Levitical Authors may seem removed from our own sensibilities, I believe their deepest intentions are well in-line with our own.

The Levitical Authors intended to construct a world, a world of order and holiness, a world that mirrored the Divine and the Divine’s intention. A world which, illustrated through ancient sacrifices and rituals, breathed out messages of wholeness, holiness, and life. We too aim to create a world of wholeness, holiness, and life. And, we at times succeed. And, we at times fail.

We know in our hearts that what takes place in Darfur each and every day is a crime. We know that the crisis in Darfur is the antithesis to all that our Torah and we hold dear: wholeness, holiness, and life. We know and yet we feel overwhelmed by the scope of the task.

On May 17, we have an opportunity to take another important step against the outrage in Darfur. Let us gather as one community. Take one hour out of your life to spread a message of wholeness, holiness, and life. Our brothers and sisters in Darfur cry out for our help. Never Again. May it yet be so.

Please check out details regarding the May 17 Rally for Darfur in Mile Square Park at www.jewishworldwatch.com.

Parashat Achrei Mot-K'doshim 5769--Loving Ourselves, Loving Others

This week’s parashah, Parashat Achrei Mot-Kedoshim, is centered around holiness. It includes the central message of Leviticus: “You shall be holy, for I, Adonai your God, am holy” (Leviticus 19:1-2). Dr. Tamara Eskenazi, who blessed TBS by serving as our scholar-in-residence this past Shabbat, teaches that the Bible’s concept of holiness is often described as one of separation. However, in Leviticus 19, this is far from true. In Parashat Kedoshim, “holiness comes from cultivating relationships. Connections…” (The Torah: A Women’s Commentary, 716).

Yes, this week’s Torah portion is about the holiness we bring to our lives through our connections with others. Dr. Eskenazi explains that the Torah tells us to “love” three different times (The Torah: A Women’s Commentary, 716). Once, immediately following the Sh’ma, in what we refer to as the V’ahavta, “You shall love Adonai your God with all your heart” (Deuteronomy 6:5). The other two instances of commanded love are in this parashah:

1. Love your fellow [Israelite] as yourself (Leviticus 19:18)
2. Love the stranger as yourself (Leviticus 19:34)

Yes, we are commanded to love others (both those who are like us and those who are not like us) as we love ourselves. And I wonder: What is the more challenging part of this mitzvah? Is it loving others or loving ourselves?

In a telling scene from the novel Joe Jones, by Annie Lamott, the book’s main character, Louise is sitting at her kitchen table, doing her bills, and drinking coffee. In the process, she accidentally knocks over her cup of coffee, ruining all the bills and papers she had laid out on the table before her. “You stupid jerk” she says to herself immediately, “You saw this coming…You’ve done this so many times before.” As Louise storms out of the house, fuming at herself and her own carelessness, the narrator muses, “She’s barely speaking to herself.” I think: There is Torah in this description. Part of loving others is loving ourselves. This character, Louise, was kind to everyone in her life, except herself.

Louise reminds me of a basic lesson that feels very difficult to learn: We should talk to ourselves like we want others to talk to us. We should talk to ourselves like we want to talk to others. Think about this for a moment. How does your inner voice speak to you?

The psychologist Judith Jordan presents a concept called “self-empathy” that mirrors the Torah’s commandment to love others as we love ourselves. Jordan explains that one way for us to better connect with others is to develop deeper empathy for our own experiences. Jordan explains that one way for us to work at being more empathic toward our own selves is to seek out connections with people who are empathic toward us and our experiences. That is, by connecting with people who show us empathy, we may come to understand ourselves “more fully and truthfully and compassionately” (Miller and Striver 134). When others see us in a gentle light, we can learn to see ourselves in a gentle light. The compassion we feel from these connections can help us to better connect with others and help others to connect with us. Extending love to others helps us to love ourselves, and extending love to ourselves helps us to love others.

And, what about the commandment to love God in the V’ahavta? Is this somehow related to loving others and ourselves? I believe this is, indeed, what the Torah is teaching us. When we accept ourselves with love and compassion, and when we accept others with love and compassion, we learn to accept and love the Ultimate Other—the Divine (see Martin Buber, I and Thou). Our relationships with others and with ourselves teach us how to relate to God.

This is a Shabbat of holiness, a Shabbat of connecting. This is a time for working on relationships, in all their wondrous variations. This is a time for talking about and thinking about love. This is a time for remembering that all is indeed interrelated. “You shall be holy, for I, Adonai, your God, am holy” (Leviticus 19:1-2). You shall see yourself as holy, for Adonai your God sees you as holy. You shall see others as holy, for Adonai your God sees them as holy. You shall see others as holy, for Adonai your God sees you as holy.