Parashat Nitzavim 5768

In this week’s Torah portion Parshat Nitzavim, we are reminded of what it means to be Israel. Moses gathers the people together and says to them:

You stand this day, all of you, before Adonai your God -- your tribal heads, your elders and your officials, all the men of Israel, your children, your wives, even the stranger within your camp, from woodchopper to waterdrawer -- to enter into the covenant of Adonai your God, which Adonai your God is concluding with you this day, with its sanctions; to the end that God may establish you this day as God’s people and be your God, as God promised you and as God swore to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I make this covenant, with its sanctions, not with you alone, but both with those who are standing here with us this day before Adonai our God and with those who are not with us here this day. (Deuteronomy 29:9-14).

This week, Moses teaches us to understand ourselves both horizontally and vertically. Horizontally, because Israel includes everyone: men and women, powerful and powerless, children and strangers. And, vertically, because Israel spans generations: from those who came before to those who have yet to come.

As we continue our own process of Elul reflection in preparation for the High Holy Days, I believe we too have an opportunity to rethink our relationships with our community. How might we better connect or serve those around us? How might we better align ourselves with generations past and present?

Parashat Nitzavim provides one answer to this question. The Torah tells us:

Surely, this Instruction which I enjoin upon you this day is not too baffling for you, nor is it beyond reach. It is not in the heavens, that you should say, "Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?" Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, "Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?" No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it (Deuteronomy 30:11-13).

This week we are reminded that Torah, in its totality, is not intended to be esoteric or removed from our lives. Rather, Torah is meant to be internalized. This week we are reminded that our tradition calls upon us to hold Torah close to us; to keep words of Torah on our lips and implanted in our hearts. When we keep Torah close to us, we bind ourselves to our community. We are reminded to live lives based on justice and compassion, and to seek a sense of purpose in all we do.

It is easy to stray away from this ideal. It is easy to live life separated from tradition, from community, and from our sacred texts. It is easy to do this because life is busy and filled with pleasant things to distract us. However, Torah teaches us that life is experienced more fully when we connect ourselves to things greater than ourselves. When we live life conscious of our place in our community (both horizontally and vertically) and when we live life with an inner mindfulness toward our spirit, Torah teaches that we live our lives to their whole potential.

On this Shabbat, I pray that we find moments to seek out the Torah in our lives. I pray that we take time to connect ourselves with those around us, those who came before us, and those of future generations. Elul is a time for drawing close to our best selves. I wish you blessings as you do so.

Parashat Ki Tavo 5768

In this week’s Torah portion Ki Tavo, Moses asks the people to imagine the land they will soon occupy. Like any good leader, Moses instructs the Israelites to envision what life will be like once they enter the Land of Israel. He contextualizes this exercise by helping the people to reflect first on their past, then of their present, and finally to their future. Moses says:

The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us; they imposed heavy labor upon us. We cried to Adonai, the God of our ancestors, and Adonai heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery, and our oppression. Adonai freed us from Egypt by a mighty hand, by an outstretched arm and awesome power, and by signs and portents. God brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. Therefore, as you see, I now bring the firstfruits of the land which you, Adonai, have given me. (Deuteronomy 26:6-10).

In this visioning exercise, notice how Moses quickly glosses over the particulars of how the people will come to possess and inhabit the Promised Land. Moses moves deftly from slavery to freedom (skipping much of the in between) and then delights in how the people will give thanks to God with their firstfruits, celebrating their deliverance. And, what of the forty years of wandering? And, what of the people that occupy the “Promised Land”?

Some argue that Moses’ omissions serve as good motivating tools. “Why dwell on the negative?” Moses seems to say. “Let’s just focus on all that we have.”

Others read Moses’ speech differently. The key to unlocking his omissions, they say, are the words “milk and honey.” These scholars point out that the phrase “milk and honey” is repeated 15 times in the Torah. These bible scholars suggest that “milk and honey” might not refer to the sweet future and rich land their simple meaning suggests. These scholars suggest that instead of referring to an abundance of agricultural products, “milk and honey” refers to an abundance of dangerous wild animals (N. Hareuveni). According to this reading, Moses does not gloss over the particulars of how the people will come to “possess and inhabit” the land, at all. Rather, by stating that the land will flow with “milk and honey,” Moses seeks to acknowledge that the Israelites will still have much to contend with once they enter the land.

This dual reading reminds me of one of the wonderful characteristics of Torah. Our Torah has no issue with contradictions! Both of these ways of understanding—positive and negative—may very well be intended in the meaning of the verse.

Today, we find ourselves in the month of Elul. This is a time for introspection. This is a time for reflection. I believe that, this week, Torah calls us to look upon our lives through “milk and honey” glasses. What of our lives is sweet and calls for gratitude? What of our lives is challenging and calls for further struggle? As we look backwards and forwards to what has passed and what is yet to come, let us remember that all of life is “milk and honey.” What changes is how we perceive it. What changes is how we grow from it. What changes is how we respond to it.

Parashat Ki Teitzei 5768

When liberal Jews are asked to define why they believe some Torah laws must be rejected, while others, such as laws of justice and respect, remain piercingly relevant, we often site a verse from this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Ki Teitzei:

If a man has a wayward and defiant son, who does not heed his father or mother and does not obey them even after they discipline him, his father and mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his town at the public place of his community. They shall say to the elders of his town, “This son of ours is disloyal and defiant; he does not heed us. He is a glutton and a drunkard.” Thereupon the men of his town shall stone him to death. Thus you will sweep out evil from your midst: all Israel will hear and be afraid.

“You see,” cries the triumphant Torah reader, “Obviously, this does not happen anymore. So, why should we keep ________________ [fill in the mitzvah].”

What may be surprising to us is that the ancient rabbis react to this verse quite similarly to the contemporary Torah reader. The rabbis of the Mishna went to great lengths to reinterpret these verses; explaining that the text refers only to a son and not a daughter, that it only refers to a three month period of time in the son’s life, that the son cannot be deaf, that the son cannot be mute, that the son must have both a mother and a father, and so on. The Babylonian Talmud goes on further to narrow the scope of possibility until the criteria for a “wayward son” are almost non-existent. At this point, the Talmudic Rabbis do not stop. Rather, they proclaim, unequivocally, “‘A stubborn and rebellious son,’ there never was and there never will be such. Then why is it written? To teach, ‘Study and receive the reward’” (BT Sanhedrin 71a).”

What are the ancient rabbis suggesting, here? The rabbis never outright reject a Torah verse with which they are uncomfortable. Rather, they reinterpret it and reinterpret it until it barely resembles its original character. They squeeze sweetness and goodness out of many of the most troubling verses. They wrestle blessings even out of violence and pain.

As the saying goes, “where there is a rabbinic will, there is a halakhic [Jewish legal] way.” When the ancient rabbis wanted to reform a verse, they stopped at nothing to do so. This text-wrestling was considered a sacred duty. And, I believe, it was never intended to end.

We, in liberal Jewish communities, should never cede our responsibility to continue wrestling new blessings out of ancient texts. For the rabbis (and for us), the law of the wayward son was deeply troubling. If we look into the heart of this week’s Torah portion, we see other such laws that bring us discomfort (e.g. captive women brought into an Israelite’s home, prohibitions against men and women wearing clothing of the opposite gender, etc.). Instead of shutting us off to Torah, these verses should be doorways in. For, when we encounter a verse that brings us pain, it becomes our duty to create comfort for others.

Let us return briefly to the final words of the Gemara text I cited earlier, “Study and receive the reward.” When we challenge existing assumptions and make Torah a living document in our lives, we remind ourselves that all around us in our world are established ways of doing and being that need overturning, as well. When we become menders of our text, we remind ourselves to be menders of our world.

On this Shabbat, I invite you to engage in a little text-wrestling of your own. Who knows what blessings you might find.

Parashat Shoftim 5768

This week’s Torah portion, Parashat Shoftim, is concerned with issues of justice. In the opening verses of the parashah, the Torah boldly proclaims: Justice, justice shall you pursue (Deuteronomy 16:20). These famous words, which instruct us to be agents of righteousness in our community, fuel much of our work at TBS. I read these words anew this year, though. For, on Sunday, we will open the TBS Religious School for the 2008-2009 school year.

This week, as I studied the parashah, I found myself drawn to the instructions Moses gives to the Israelites concerning their future appointment of a king. The text foreshadows the problematic relationship Israel will have with their power-hungry kings once they occupy the land. Today, with the kingship abolished, I believe each of us can learn from these instructions and consider the ways we can manage our own power and influence.

The Torah explains:

When he is seated on his royal throne, he shall have a copy of this Torah written for him on a scroll by the levitical priests. Let it remain with him and let him read in it all his life, so that he may learn to revere Adonai his God, to observe faithfully every word of this Torah as well as these laws. Thus his heart will not be raised above his fellows and he will not turn aside from the Instruction (Mitzvah), to the right or to the left, in order that he and his descendants may reign long in the midst of Israel (Deuteronomy 17:18-20).

As I mentioned, these words are particularly poignant to me as we begin our final preparations to open the Religious School doors to our students of Torah, once again. This ancient royal instruction is, indeed, exactly what we want our students to learn at TBS. We hope our students will live a life surrounded by Torah. We wish that Torah will remain relevant and meaningful for them. We pray that our students will learn that, at its core, Torah teaches a message of justice. And so, we work to instill in our students these central values, so beautifully outline in this week’s parashah: Everyone is equal. Our behavior affects the quality of life for every living creature.

As a community, our most basic desire is to help raise up a new generation that is committed to a life of justice. This week’s Torah portion is a reminder of our role in this process. We must become the “levitical priests.” We must continue to bring our students to Torah. To teach them its most basic values. To model for them its just application. To share with them its essential sweetness.

I invite all of you who are available to join us for our Religious School Opening Day ceremony this Sunday at 10:00 a.m. in the Sanctuary. As we unveil our social justice focus for the year, introduce our new HUC interns, greet our TBS teachers, and welcome our students to learning with music and joy, I know that we will inspire not only our students, but also (maybe even) ourselves.