Our Torah Portion, Parashat Korah, opens with news of an open rebellion amongst the Israelites. This week, two separate groups attempt to overthrow Aaron and Moses. These rebels, backed by hundreds of supporters, seek to attain places of power for themselves.
According to Rabbi Rachel Cowan, when we look at the character of Korah, one of the rebel leaders, we see an individual consumed by his own arrogance, seeking to promote his own self-interests. Korah capitalizes on the fears and complaints of the people (which we have heard in great detail in past weeks) and uses these weaknesses as a pretext to challenge the ultimate authority of God. To this end, Korah seeks to overthrow Aaron’s ordained place as priest. It is out of a place of self-centeredness, and not out of true concern for the divine or the Israelite people, that Korah raises himself above the community and demands a place of power.
Let us contrast Korah with Moses. Moses, upon hearing Korah’s words, falls on his face in an act of meekness. Moses never asked for the leadership role he was given; he was chosen by God and reluctantly accepted the post. Verse after verse of Torah illustrates Moses’ humility.
Rabbi Cowan suggests that Moses realizes all to well that Korah is not threatening his power, but God’s power. Moses has the wisdom not to engage Korah in battle or to argue his own merits with him. Instead, Moses devises a simple test. He asks Korah and his company to fill their fire pans with incense and bring them before God (a task that only Aaron and the priests are able to perform), literally daring them to challenge God’s authority head-on. Moses has the wisdom to realize: “This is not about me.”
One can imagine God’s response to Korah’s band of self-serving rebels! God is so filled with anger at the sight of Korah’s insincere offering that God instructs Moses and Aaron to step back and let the entire people be destroyed. Once again, Moses acts from a place of humble service. He falls on his face. He will not leave his people. Ignoring his own safety, Moses argues on their behalf. In the end, the Israelites are not destroyed, but God consumes Korah and his followers in a fire. The winning ideology is clear.
How, though, can we best hear this message today? Rabbi Cowan explains, “We, too, live with an ongoing conflict between an ‘inner Moses’ and an ‘inner Korah’—between humility and arrogance, between selflessness and selfishness” (Women’s Torah Commentary 911).
Each of us has an inner-Moses and an inner-Korah. We have moments in which we act in our own self-interest and moments in which we rise above our own needs and truly serve others.
On this Shabbat, let us reflect on our actions in the world. When do we act from a place of Korah and when do we act from a place of Moses? Are there patterns in our behavior? Is their room for both of these inner-selves? Is there value to be found in both of them?
June 27, 2008
June 20, 2008
Parashat Sh'lach L'cha 5768
In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Sh’lach L’cha, the Israelites journey close to the Promised Land. As they approach, God instructs Moses to choose twelve emissaries to go and scout out the land. This mission is a curious one. As God says to Moses, “‘Send emissaries to scout the land of Canaan, which I am giving to the Israelite people’” (Numbers 13:1).
And I wonder, why would the Israelites need to send scouts to a land that God has already promised them? What are they meant to find there? What impact will their discoveries have on their future? Commentators have asked similar questions, some suggesting that the purpose of this mission is to test the faith of the scouts. I believe this mission is not only a test of faith, but also a test of partnership. Are the Israelites willing to recognize their own role in realizing the vision of the Promised Land? Are they willing to imagine themselves as God’s partners in the next stage of their lives? With all of their complaining about their present conditions, are they willing to vision and realize a better future?
Whatever the goal of the expedition is, the scouts (all except for two) clearly fail in their mission. They return back with examples of lush produce, illustrating that the land is indeed fertile. However, they quickly tell of “giants” who inhabit the land, adding “The country that we traversed and scouted is one that devours its settlers.” (Numbers 14:32). The scouts’ scathing report sends fear throughout the camp.
I believe this story of the scouts holds particular significance to us today. I believe that we, in this generation, stand again on the edge of the desert looking into what might yet be the Promised Land. Our Promised Land is not a physical space, but a vision of what our world might yet be. Our Promised Land is a world in which all people are treated with dignity, in which all people are free from violence, in which all people are satiated. In today’s world, we are all scouts. Do we look forward to the future with a sense of hopelessness and defeat? Do we give into our own doubts that our world might never be made whole? Or, do we suspend our fear and overcome our apathy to find a passion for change—a passion for tikkun olam—within ourselves. We stand again on the edge of the Promised Land and we are asked to believe that we might yet enter and occupy a better world.
On this Shabbat, may each of us imagine ways that we can fulfill our role as God’s partner in the ongoing work of healing our world. On this Shabbat, may we renew our hope in a Promised Land not yet realized.
And I wonder, why would the Israelites need to send scouts to a land that God has already promised them? What are they meant to find there? What impact will their discoveries have on their future? Commentators have asked similar questions, some suggesting that the purpose of this mission is to test the faith of the scouts. I believe this mission is not only a test of faith, but also a test of partnership. Are the Israelites willing to recognize their own role in realizing the vision of the Promised Land? Are they willing to imagine themselves as God’s partners in the next stage of their lives? With all of their complaining about their present conditions, are they willing to vision and realize a better future?
Whatever the goal of the expedition is, the scouts (all except for two) clearly fail in their mission. They return back with examples of lush produce, illustrating that the land is indeed fertile. However, they quickly tell of “giants” who inhabit the land, adding “The country that we traversed and scouted is one that devours its settlers.” (Numbers 14:32). The scouts’ scathing report sends fear throughout the camp.
I believe this story of the scouts holds particular significance to us today. I believe that we, in this generation, stand again on the edge of the desert looking into what might yet be the Promised Land. Our Promised Land is not a physical space, but a vision of what our world might yet be. Our Promised Land is a world in which all people are treated with dignity, in which all people are free from violence, in which all people are satiated. In today’s world, we are all scouts. Do we look forward to the future with a sense of hopelessness and defeat? Do we give into our own doubts that our world might never be made whole? Or, do we suspend our fear and overcome our apathy to find a passion for change—a passion for tikkun olam—within ourselves. We stand again on the edge of the Promised Land and we are asked to believe that we might yet enter and occupy a better world.
On this Shabbat, may each of us imagine ways that we can fulfill our role as God’s partner in the ongoing work of healing our world. On this Shabbat, may we renew our hope in a Promised Land not yet realized.
June 13, 2008
Parashat B'haalot'cha
In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat B’haalot’cha the Israelites, still wandering in the desert, become weary of travel and grow bored with their homogeneous diet of the desert food, manna. And, they start to complain:
In almost every Jewish prayer, we thank God for delivering us from Egypt. In this week’s Torah portion, our ancestors glorify the conditions of slavery and complain to God for freeing them. But, even this is considered Torah. Torah preserves these disrespectful, hurtful insults hurled at God by the people. I believe these statements are to be read as both a reminder and as a comfort.
Reminder: Just as it is our right to praise God, so too is it our right to become angry with God. While the example in this week’s Torah portion may seem mundane (a spicier diet), it is connected with the realities of the Israelites’ condition. Our ancestors were disappointed, they were scared, they were tired, and they felt that God and life had dealt harshly with them. Indeed, this week’s Torah portion is a reminder that we all feel like complaining or crying out at times. It is also a reminder that God is present to hear our cries.
Comfort: Our tradition doesn’t paint a perfect picture either of God or of us. In this way, we can take comfort knowing that Judaism has always made room for our full selves. We are comforted this week knowing that there is space in our community for us at our best and at our worst.
On this Shabbat, let us find the strength to both praise God and cry out to God. Let us remember that we can pour out our full selves to the divine and know that we will be heard. And, let us take comfort in knowing that our tradition never expects us to be “perfect,” but mirrors to us our full selves.
The riffraff in their midst felt a gluttonous craving; and then the Israelites wept and said, ‘If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish that we used to eat free in Egypt, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. Now our gullets are shriveled. There is nothing at all! Nothing but this manna to look to!’ (Numbers 11:4-6).I call this part of Numbers the counter-narrative and delight in its inclusion in Torah each year. That’s right, this week we are given access to the on-the-ground reality of wandering. Torah does not romanticize life, nor does it not paint rosy pictures of our ancestors’ relationship with God. Rather, it teaches us that life is often messy and includes disappointments, great and small. This week’s Torah portion show us that just as our ancestors’ relationships with God could grow strained and become tinged with doubt or anger, so too might our relationships with God feel challenging.
In almost every Jewish prayer, we thank God for delivering us from Egypt. In this week’s Torah portion, our ancestors glorify the conditions of slavery and complain to God for freeing them. But, even this is considered Torah. Torah preserves these disrespectful, hurtful insults hurled at God by the people. I believe these statements are to be read as both a reminder and as a comfort.
Reminder: Just as it is our right to praise God, so too is it our right to become angry with God. While the example in this week’s Torah portion may seem mundane (a spicier diet), it is connected with the realities of the Israelites’ condition. Our ancestors were disappointed, they were scared, they were tired, and they felt that God and life had dealt harshly with them. Indeed, this week’s Torah portion is a reminder that we all feel like complaining or crying out at times. It is also a reminder that God is present to hear our cries.
Comfort: Our tradition doesn’t paint a perfect picture either of God or of us. In this way, we can take comfort knowing that Judaism has always made room for our full selves. We are comforted this week knowing that there is space in our community for us at our best and at our worst.
On this Shabbat, let us find the strength to both praise God and cry out to God. Let us remember that we can pour out our full selves to the divine and know that we will be heard. And, let us take comfort in knowing that our tradition never expects us to be “perfect,” but mirrors to us our full selves.
June 6, 2008
Shavuot 5768
Recently, I have had the pleasure of speaking at two local high schools. I was invited as a “Jewish representative” and was asked to introduce Judaism and Jewish concepts to local teens that were curious about religion in general. During the question and answer period at both schools, I was asked a similar question: “How do Jews feel about people who follow other religions?”
The question did not surprise me. Unfortunately, religious discourse is all too often reduced to this basic assumption that “we” are right and “they” are wrong (assign “we” and “they” as fits the situation). However, as Reform Jews, we embrace a very different central value, that of pluralism. As pluralists, we assert that we do not hold a monopoly on truth. We have our truth and they can have their truth.
This Sunday night, we will welcome in the festival holiday of Shavuot. Together, we will stand with Jews across the world as we recreate the ancient moment that we received Torah at Mt Sinai. On Shavuot, we celebrate our people’s central experience of Revelation. I believe, though, that we can take our celebration further. This Shavuot, let us recommit ourselves to our values of pluralism. Let us renew our efforts not only to understand our own truth, but the truths of others as well.
Most Jewish prayers follow a three-step model: The individual first relates to God, then to the community, and then to all of humanity. I believe this model can serve as a reminder for us, in our own search for truths. First, we can seek to understand our own truth. Then, we can seek to understand the truth of our people. Then, we can seek to understand the truths of humanity.
If we, as a Jewish community, become complacent, interacting only on the individual or communal planes, if we see these as the ultimate levels of understanding, then we risk becoming isolated, separating ourselves from our world community. However, if we seek to accept the validity of multiple truths, we have the potential to repair the fissures in our world.
On this Shavuot, let us celebrate Torah, and let us celebrate our ability to respect and learn from others. Above all else, seeking to understand the truths of others reminds us that Torah is a vital and ever-present part of our existence. Truths do not only spread out as living, breathing branches on our tree of life, but also grow deep, serving as the strong roots that keep us balanced and firmly planted in this world.
The question did not surprise me. Unfortunately, religious discourse is all too often reduced to this basic assumption that “we” are right and “they” are wrong (assign “we” and “they” as fits the situation). However, as Reform Jews, we embrace a very different central value, that of pluralism. As pluralists, we assert that we do not hold a monopoly on truth. We have our truth and they can have their truth.
This Sunday night, we will welcome in the festival holiday of Shavuot. Together, we will stand with Jews across the world as we recreate the ancient moment that we received Torah at Mt Sinai. On Shavuot, we celebrate our people’s central experience of Revelation. I believe, though, that we can take our celebration further. This Shavuot, let us recommit ourselves to our values of pluralism. Let us renew our efforts not only to understand our own truth, but the truths of others as well.
Most Jewish prayers follow a three-step model: The individual first relates to God, then to the community, and then to all of humanity. I believe this model can serve as a reminder for us, in our own search for truths. First, we can seek to understand our own truth. Then, we can seek to understand the truth of our people. Then, we can seek to understand the truths of humanity.
If we, as a Jewish community, become complacent, interacting only on the individual or communal planes, if we see these as the ultimate levels of understanding, then we risk becoming isolated, separating ourselves from our world community. However, if we seek to accept the validity of multiple truths, we have the potential to repair the fissures in our world.
On this Shavuot, let us celebrate Torah, and let us celebrate our ability to respect and learn from others. Above all else, seeking to understand the truths of others reminds us that Torah is a vital and ever-present part of our existence. Truths do not only spread out as living, breathing branches on our tree of life, but also grow deep, serving as the strong roots that keep us balanced and firmly planted in this world.
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