February 26, 2010

Parashat Tetzaveh and Purim--Costumes

In the opening verses of this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Tetzaveh, God says to Moses, “Make sacral vestments for your brother Aaron, for dignity and adornment. Next you shall instruct all who are skillful, whom I have endowed with the gift of skill, to make Aaron's vestments, for consecrating him to serve Me as priest” (Exodus 28:2-3).  While studying these verses with two TIOH fifth graders in preparation for their D’var Torah, I asked them the question, “What are vestments?”

One student quickly answered, “A disguise!”

I responded, “Ok, good.  And what’s another word for disguise?”

“A costume!” they replied emphatically.

The words “disguise” and “costume” were not the first words that come to my mind when considering priestly vestments.  But, these associative definitions have stuck in my mind the past few weeks and have been insistently whispering an important link between this Torah portion and the holiday of Purim, which begins Saturday night.

There is a clear link in the Torah between the decorations made for mishkan or the Tabernacle (meant to be the dwelling place for God), which were described in last week’s parashah, and the vestments made for the priests in this week’s portion.  Indeed, our Torah scrolls of today are dressed in much the same way as the ancient priests were, thereby connecting text to people to God.

And what if all of these vestments are simply disguises?  Costumes masking something underneath?  What, we might wonder, is being hidden?

Jewish mystics teach that the stories of the Torah are a disguise for the Torah’s deeper meanings, the Torah’s essential truths.  The stories, say the kabbalists, make Torah more accessible and comprehensible.  Might the same be true for the decorations we use to cover sacred space, holy people, and sacred text?  Might the costumes we drape upon them allow us to better access and understand their true power and connection to the divine?

We think now of ourselves.  Purim is upon us.  We are busy dusting off costumes and planning our own disguises.  The Purim masks we wear do not only draw attention to silly outer costumes, but also to what we are hiding underneath.  Might these costumes, in all their silliness, point to something much truer underneath?

The disguises we wear on Purim might be a far cry from the vestments of priests and Torah, not to mention the craftsmanship of the mishkan, but they make accessible the same inner truth:  Dwelling right beneath the surface of each one of us is a divine spark that animates our life.  Burning within each one of us is a soul that has the capacity for deep wells of compassion and kindness.  The costumes we wear on Purim can barely conceal our inner resources of healing and power, of grief and joy, of resilience and flexibility.  

Sometimes when we dress up something seemingly ordinary in something seemingly extraordinary, we are invited to see that thing differently.  To see it anew.  This is the fun and power for Purim.  Disguise yourself well.  And enjoy the costume.

February 19, 2010

Parashat Terumah--If you build it...

“If you build it, he will come.” Not words of Torah, of course, but an unforgettable quote nonetheless, from the 1989 movie “Field of Dreams.” Yes, this was about a baseball diamond in a corn field. But, couldn’t it be midrash, as well?

In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Terumah, “Adonai spoke to Moses, saying: ‘Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him. ...And let them make Me a mishkan, a sanctuary, that I may dwell amongst them. ...And deposit in the Ark the tablets of the Pact which I will give you’” (Ex 25:1-2, 8, 16).

Commentators note: The text does not say “let them make me a sanctuary that I may dwell in it.” Rather the text reads, “that I may dwell amongst them.” Why is it that when the Israelites build a sanctuary of their own free will, they are told that God dwells amongst them? (and not in it)

In “Field of Dreams,” Chicago White Sox players from the early twentieth century show up to play baseball when an Iowa farmer builds them a baseball diamond. “If you build it, he will come.”

In Torah, God shows up amongst the people when they build God a sanctuary. (A loose connection here, I know, but indulge me!)

Here in the TIOH Religious School, we have been building a sanctuary of sorts, as well. Together (parents, students, teachers, clergy, and staff) have been dreaming about what our community can be and making our dreams into reality.

Our Sunday morning flagpole is filled with prayer, songs, blessings, and joy. Families join together weekly for this ritual.

Our Sunday morning t’fillah (services) are meaningful and aim to connect our students with the sacred in their lives.

Our classrooms are electric. Students are engaged and active learners.

On Sunday afternoons, our Teen Program is the place to be. With a “Jew-per Bowl Halftime” party, school-wide celebrations and trips, and thought-provoking class discussions, our junior high and high school students are coming together.

We have new chuggim (elective activities) on Wednesday afternoons. From Jewish Yoga to Social Action, our students are experiencing Jewish together.

Yes, we are building. Brick by brick, our sanctuary is coming together. And, we are promised, with this construction, God will dwell amongst us.

We are all searching for meaning. Looking for ways to connect. Seeking out the holy. We need no longer search. We are building it. They too will come.

February 16, 2010

Parashat Mishpatim--Step Up/ Step Back

At the Sela Leadership Training I attended last year, we were instructed to use the “Step up/ Step back technique” in our inter-group relations.  This was one of our ground rules.  We were told explicitly: for those of you prone to listening rather than speaking, step up and consider talking more.  We were told, for those of you who usually speak first or often, step back and consider listening more.  Step up or Step back, we were reminded.

The reason why this ground rule was useful is because it called upon each of us to have a level of self-awareness.  Do I talk frequently and need to step back or am I often reticent and need to step up?  In each situation, should I step back or up?  Where to stand?

I am someone who usually listens and thinks before speaking.  I have a terrible habit of turning conversations backwards once I finally catch up enough to offer my comment.  Step up, I hear my inner voice saying often during conversations.  And on the flip side, I have strong and definitive opinions.  Step back, I have come to hear my inner voice say often during conversations.  In one individual, who knew, there could be such complexity. 

Such consideration of where and how to walk in conversations is not only a useful tool for self-development, it is also at the crux of this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Mishpatim

Last week, our ancestors stood at the foot of Mount Sinai, as Moses ascended the mountain.  All the people engaged in a moment of profound revelation.  This is why our people left Egypt, to enter into a new and just covenant, to encounter the sacred.  And so amidst thunder and lightning, Moses descended the mountain and recited the Ten Utterances or Commandments. 

And in this week’s parashah, the recitation continues.  Mishpatim.  “These are the rules of conduct” by which you will live your lives. 

Moses finishes reciting.  And the people proclaim, “Kol ha’d’varim asher dibeir Adonai na’aseh” “all the things that Adonai has spoken, we will do” (Exodus 24:3).  Moses then offers a sacrifice of well-being, and the people repeat themselves “Kol asher dibeir Adonai na’aseh v’nishmah,” “all that Adonai has spoken we will do and we will hear” (Exodus 24:7).  At the moment of Revelation the People choose.  Step up.  We. Will.  Do. 

At the moment of Revelation, we see our stiff-necked ancestors at their finest.  Not passive, like in the moments following the recitation of the Ten Utterances when Torah tells us the people “fell back and stood at a distance” (Exodus 20:15).  Not passive aggressive, like when the people call out, “If only we had meat to eat, we remember that fish we used to eat free in Egypt” (Numbers 11:4-5).  No this is the people at their best.  We. Will. Do.  We. Will. Step. Up.  We are active partners in this relationship. 

And, Moses?  Where is Moses in this narrative?  Moses, who has been running up and down the mountain like a spiritual ski gondola since last week.  Moses, who has spent the moments of revelation praising and pacifying, listening and repeating, doing and commanding, leading and leveraging: Where is Moses in this conversation?

This week Torah tells us: God says to Moses, “Aleih eilai ha-harah veh’h’yeh sham,” “Come up to Me on the mountain and be there” (Exodus 24:12).  Be there.  Just be.  Stop moving.  Stop doing.  Don’t ascend, don’t descend, don’t act.  Step back. 

Moses and the Israelites ultimately came into covenant, entered into the deepest of sacred relationships, in ways that were opposite to their nature.  The notoriously passive people responded to covenant by doing.  The woefully impulsive Moses responded by being.

They stepped up.  He stepped back.  And that was Revelation.

We today are wise to hear this story of covenant anew.  Experiencing God and the sacred, not to mention the rest of humanity, requires a presence of mind.  A spiritual centering.  An active choice, different for each of us, different in each moment:  Step up or Step back.

We are taught that the true moment of our people’s freedom came not at the instant they fled Egypt.  It came only at this moment, at Sinai, when they entered into covenant.  The absence of law, we are taught, is not freedom, but chaos.

“We will do and we will hear,” said the people.

“[Moses,] Come up to Me on the mountain and be.”

This is the voice of Torah in our lives.  Gently pushing us this week...to rise above our basest instincts.  We are more than chaos.  In our encounters with Torah, with the holy and with God...and most importantly, in our interactions with each other (each of us who is surely created in God’s image), we are reminded: Step up or Step back.  We live our lives in the realm of the sacred when we are self-aware enough to know how to reach out and encounter the other. 

We will do.  We will be.

Easier said than done.  The people’s misguided actions will lead them to build a golden calf.  Moses’ over-zealousness in pulling back keeps him covered in cloud and alone, oblivious to the people’s infraction.  Torah never calls on us to be perfect.  Just a little better than our instincts might tell us to be.

In that one moment, which is every moment, when an encounter of the truest nature is possible, we can do our part to make revelation possible. Step up or Step back.  And who knows what blessings we might receive.

February 5, 2010

Parashat Yitro--Back and Forthing

There are some days in which I take three trips from my home to my car before I remember everything I need.  No sooner do I have the key in the ignition then I remember my forgotten cell phone, iPod, lunch, office key, jacket.  This is the way I am in the world.  My mind is so often filled with plans and ideas three steps ahead that I have a hard time remembering what’s supposed to be in my hands at the moment.  I take comfort in the fact that there is holiness in the back-and-forthing of life.

In Genesis, Jacob falls asleep on a rock.  In the middle of the night, he awakes to find angels climbing up and down a ladder.  Commentators ask: Why up and then down?  Why moving at all?  Good questions!

In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Yitro, in which our people receive the Ten Commandments (aka Decalogue, Ten Utterances, etc.) at Mount Sinai, we once again are treated to Torah’s love of back-and-forthing.  I invite you, before you read my count, to click here http://www.jtsa.edu/Conservative_Judaism/JTS_Torah_Commentary/Yitro.xml, re-read Exodus 19 from the Torah portion, and count how many times Moses goes up and down the mountain.  My tally is below:

19:3--Moses goes up the mountain
19:7--Moses goes down to mountain
19:9--Moses goes up the mountain
19:14--Moses goes down the mountain
19:16--Moses leads the people out of the camp and toward God.  They take their place at the foot of the mountain.
19:20--God comes down onto Mt Sinai and Moses goes up the mountain
19:25--Moses goes down the mountain
20:1-14--God delivers the 10 Commandments

First of all, I think it is important to say that this is not the image I have of our encounter on Mount Sinai.  My view is much more majestic.  The stuff of real myth.  With Moses on top of the mountain, with thunder and lightning, and great drama.  And, yes, in the real narrative, the fireworks and dramatics still exist, but with this odd subtext: This running back and forth from car to door before the day can start.  What’s with God and Moses?  Why not just stay still?

A few thoughts:
  1. Moses in his back-and-forthing is modeling important leadership skills for us.  It is only a few parashot later that Moses ascends the mountain and stays up there again for forty days, enveloped in a cloud with God, while the people lose faith, hope, and any sense of guidance.  They break into open revolt and buil a golden calf to worship.  We often cite that part of the story in our Torah study, but how often do we check back here to Exodus 19, when Moses gets it right?  Sometimes the work of process and consensus building feels exactly like this:  Running up and down a mountain, again and again, talking, securing, easing, and explaining.  Yet, we see here, this work is sacred.  And critical.  When Moses and God skip it later on, secure in their own roles and status as leaders, they lose their people.
  2. I see in this a spiritual message.  There are moments to stay up on the mountain and there are moments to come back down to our people on solid ground.  This parasha reminds us that it is in the balance between the two that we encounter the divine. 
  3. There was a time in American political debate in which being “wishy washy” was viewed as a negative characteristic.  Let us remember, though, that we are a people who have never been satisfied with first impressions, initial conversations, or singular encounters.  We are a people who go back and forth, who wander, who question God, and who challenge authority.  We may be a stiff-necked people, but we have no problem with ascending and descending ladders, mountains, and deserts.  Let us take comfort in this legacy and know that the possibility to choose and choose again, to learn and learn again, to grow and grow again is always before us.

Shabbat Shalom!