Vayakel-Pekudei

The majority of this week’s Parsha contains in it a description of the construction of the Mishkan (Tabernacle).  The Parsha opens by discussing the types of work which are forbidden on the Sabbath.  The sages argue from the connection of these to seemingly disparate topics, that the work forbidden on the Sabbath is the exact same work that was needed to build the Mishkan.  Furthermore, the word for work here, in the context of building the Mishkan, is the same word used in Genesis when it says that God completed the work on the seventh day. 

Jewish mysticism learns from these connections that the physical labors which we abstain from on Shabbat have their spiritual mirror image in the heavens.  Everything we do has an impact on this world that goes far beyond our abilities to perceive that impact.  This is why these specific actions are forbidden on Shabbat.  So that we are not doing the very acts that God did to create the world on the day that we are supposed to be resting from creative activity in order to commemorate God’s creation of the world. 

One lesson to derive from this mystical approach is the significance of our actions.  Everything we do has significance and an impact on this world beyond our ability to notice it.  Therefore, it behooves us to act in this world with mindfulness, to consider the possible ramifications of everything we do, both good and bad.  We should all be motivated by mindfulness to perform more good and refrain from doing bad. 

Parshat Ki Tissa/My Brother's aufruf

This week’s Parsha contains in it the terrible tragedy of the sin of the golden calf, and the subsequent destruction of the tablets by Moses when he returns from Mt. Sinai to the Jewish people worshipping the idol they built in his absence. After destroying the first set of tablets and dealing with the people in the aftermath of this sin, God instructs Mosesto return to the mountain and carve out a new set.

When you compare the first and second set of tablets, we would automatically assume that first set is holier and of more importance than the second set, because they were made by God and not Moses. Yet, it is the second; man-made set that last for all eternity, while the divinely wrought tablets survived only for moments before being destroyed. This is strange because usually between things that are made by man to things that are made by God, it is the things that God makes which last forever.

Furthermore, in this week’s Parsha when Moses returns with the second set of tablets, we learn that his face was illuminated, there is no similar description to the radiance of Moses' countenance after having received the first set of tablets.

Despite the fact that they were manmade, it seems like the second set of tablets hold more significance than the first set which were made by God. How are we to understand this?

Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, in his commentary on this week’s Parsha, provides us with an approach as to how to make sense of this strange situation. Rabbi Sacks explains it by connecting it to a fundamental principle in Jewish mysticism.

Sometimes spiritual moments of awakening are initiated by God, and other times they are experienced as a result of the effort exerted by people. The Kabbalah calls these two types of divine human encounters – איתערותא דלעילה, איתערותא דלתתא - an awakening from above, and an awakening from below. The most important distinction between the two is that, while an awakening from above may be a more intense experience in the moment; it can have the power to change nature, but it does not change human nature. When the connection comes from above, the person involved was passive, there was no effort expended and therefore no permanent growth experienced. The experience is overwhelming, but it is fleeting and impossible to replicate. It is not the basis of realistic and sustainable relationship with God.

When the connection to God is motivated by the effort and struggle of the person down here, in this world, connecting to God through normal life, then a person’s nature can change, and true growth happen, and a meaningful relationship with God can develop. We get out of our relationships what we put in. To experience a true awakening that has a lasting impact on us, we need to do the hard work. This is why the Torah demands such a rigorous system of performance of mitzvoth and observing halachah in all aspects of our lives. The mitzvoth are for our benefit, they are the tools we use to develop a lasting connecting to God, in a way that challenges us and forces us to grow.

This is what is symbolized in the lasting nature of the tablets that Moses made versus the divinely wrought set, and it is why Moses' face shone with divine light after doing the hard work of carving out the second set of tablets. Just like the first set of tablets which were made by God and only lasted a short time, when we are inspired by an intense but fleeting spiritual emotion, our connection is severed when that moment passes. But when we put the work in to commit ourselves to permanent connection, even when it’s less intense, then just like the second set of tablets , it can stand the test of time.

There is a midrash which reflects this idea, the midrash is trying to establish what the most important verse in the Torah is. The midrash says,

Ben Zoma says that it is the shema, with its focus on the oneness of God.

Ben Nannas’s opinion is that the most important verse is, you shall love your neighbor as you love yourself, because of its focus on charity and obligations towards your fellow human being.

Ben Pazzi said that there is still a more important Pasuk than either of those. He cites the verse for the daily sacrifice which was brought every single day in the Temple. ואת הכבש האחד תעשה בבוקר ואת הכבש השני תעשה בן הערבים. Because of its focus on consistency. Without consistency, no feeling of religious fervor inspired by faith in God or by community is of any value.



This is an important lesson with regard to the way in which we consider our relationship with God. It also serves as a vital lesson about the relationship with a spouse and the transition of marriage, on the occasion of my brother's upcoming wedding this weekend.. When you first fall in love it is like the divinely inspired awakening which is intense and exciting, but it is not what gives the relationship the strength and tools to stand the test of time. The beatles were wrong, love is not all you need. What you need is consistency, hard work, and dedication. Marriage is 24/7, you are always together, not just in your good moods, but in the bad moods too. Marriage is about doing what’s best for the relationship even if you don’t feel like it.

At the end of this week’s Parsha, Moses makes a strange request of God, he asks God to maintain the divine presence amongst the people despite their sins, because as the verse says, “they are a stiff-necked people.” This is very strange because only a chapter earlier God said, “For I know them, and they are a stiff-necked people. Now leave me along so that my anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them.” What is going on? If God wants to destroy them because they are a stiff-necked people, why in the world would Moses tell God to remain in the their midst for the same reason?

I think that Moses is teaching us an important lesson about relationships. A relationship that has true love and can stand the test of time is not a relationship where there is no disagreement or conflict. It is when there is conflict, but that conflict is dealt with in a healthy way. It is normal for people who spend more time with each other than anyone else in the world to get on each other’s nerves, it is normal for them to upset one another. But when both people truly care about each other and are devoted to one another, they deal with those areas of tensions, and they can look on another in the eye when they’re upset. They do not avoid areas of conflict, through dealing with conflict in a healthy way, they make their relationship stronger.

This is what Moses was asking God. He was asking God to stick it out, to remain in a relationship that will take some work. There might be things that make you want to kill each other, but working through those moments makes the relationship so much stronger, and the love felt for each other much much deeper.

This is what marriage is all about. There will always be moments of love from above when you just feel like it’s right, but the true strength of a relationship comes from the work that the individuals put into the relationship when it’s not easy. Which is why the traditional Jewish blessing to give to a married couple is, “may you build a בית נאמן בישראל (secure household in Israel),” because a healthy relationship isn’t a passive experience, it is always a building in progress.

Tetzaveh

Looking for parking in New York City can often be an incredibly frustrating experience.  There’s a story of a man looking for a parking spot in New York City one afternoon.  He’s in a rush, he’s already late for a meeting and he’s been looking for a spot to open up for close to an hour.  In frustration, he calls out to God, “God please if you find me a spot, I’ll go to Minyan more often, I’ll learn more Torah, and I’ll give more tzedakah!  I just can’t look for a parking spot anymore, please make a spot open up for me.”  As he opens his eyes from his heartfelt prayer, he notices the car immediately in front of him pulling out.  So he looks up at the heavens and says, “never mind God, I found one myself.

There is a classic debate among theologians and philosophers both Jewish and non-Jewish.  To what degree is God involved in the world?  Does God have a hand in everything that happens, or is God like a watchmaker who is no longer involved in the operation of the watch after it has been put together and set in motion?  The bottom line is that we don’t know; religious belief is not the same as knowledge.  I know that the sky is blue; I know it because I see it very clearly, I don’t have a choice.  But I believe there is a God and I believe that this God is the primary mover of the world constantly willing everything into existence, I believe this whether it’s explicit or not, and it’s usually not.

When it comes to belief, God gives us a choice.  We can choose whether or not we believe in God, we can choose whether or not we believe that God is actively and directly involved in this world at all times, and we can choose whether or not we want to follow God’s commandments.  Our religion wants us to choose in the affirmative, but we have the freedom to make that decision for ourselves.

Matters of faith cannot be absolutely proven, to do so would make it knowledge of something and not belief.  When we try to prove a matter of faith, what we are really doing is establishing our reasons and reminders to believe.  In Judaism, Jewish philosophy and learning serves as an intellectual reminder that there is a God.  Shabbat, Holidays, prayer and many more mitzvoth are ritual reminders.  We also have physical reminders like the mezuzah, or the synagogue’s sacred space.  For a person of faith, we need these reminders to constantly keep the faith in a world where God is not always obvious. 

The tabernacle and its many artifacts served as physical reminders of the connection between the Jewish people and God.  This is evident in the beginning of this week’s Parsha, where we see the word for testimony – עדות, being used with regard to the items in the tabernacle.  The second verse of the Parsha says, “Aaron and his sons shall set the lights of the menorah in the tabernacle outside the curtain which is over the עדות.”  In the many translations, עדות, the Hebrew for testimony, is translated as the Ark of the Covenant.  Although the Ark of the Covenant is often used to relate to this idea of testimony, that is not the literal translation of the verse.

In fact, the Talmud in Masechet Shabbat 22b understands this verse to have a different meaning. The sages say that in this context the עדות – testimony is referring to the testimony of the Menorah, which gives testament to the idea that the divine presence dwells among the Jewish people.
Every day before sunset the Cohen would light the menorah lamps which were each filled with just enough oil to last through the night.  Every morning the Cohen would find six of the lights extinguished, but the middle light would miraculously burn all the next day until just before sunset on the following evening when the Menorah would be prepared and lit for that night.  This lamp was called the Ner Tamid, the continuously burning light.  It was a symbol for the connection between the Jewish people and God.

The Menorah was not a light fixture whose purpose was to illuminate a dark space, the room it was in had windows which let the light in during the day, and the room was not in use at night.  The Menorah’s sole purpose was testimony to the continuous connection of the people to God.  This reminder is necessary, because God’s presence is not naturally seen or felt in the world during our daily lives unless we actively choose to see the world that way.

This is one of the most important lessons from Megillat Esther and the story of Purim.  An interesting fact about Megillat Esther is that even though this is a religious document and part of the Hebrew bible, it does not contain the name of God, not even once.  There are also no explicit miracles in the story of Purim.  On the surface, it is simply a story of Jewish survival.  But the Jewish people at this time saw their survival as miraculous.  All of the coincidences which put Mordechai and Esther in the position to influence Achashverosh in way that would ultimately save the Jewish people were not seen as mere coincidences, the people saw them as the hand of God.

They chose to see their salvation coming from the hands of God even though there were no explicit miracles, they could’ve chosen to give themselves the credit for their survival and forgotten about God. This is why our sages in Masechet Shabbat 88a explain that on Purim the covenant between the Jewish people and God was reaffirmed for all eternity.

The Talmud discusses the Midrash which says that God held mount Sinai over the Jewish people’s heads when offering them the Torah and said, if you accept the Torah it will be good for you, but if not I’ll drop the mountain on top of you.  The sages of the Talmud point out the theological problem in this Midrash. In Jewish law, if a person is forced to sign an agreement under duress, the agreement is invalid.  So the sages make the same argument about the accepting the Torah at Sinai under the conditions in this Midrash.  The challenge is resolved by the Purim story.  At the end of Megillat Esther 9:27, it says, “The Jews upheld and received upon themselves and their descendants.”  The sages of the Talmud understand this statement to mean that they now voluntarily chose to uphold that which was already received, the Torah.  This acceptance makes the Torah a binding agreement between the Jewish people and God. 

To me, the contrast between the accepting of the Torah at Sinai versus that of Purim has a lot to do with the historical reality at the times of those stories.  We don’t have to understand the Midrash as saying that the mountain was literally held over their head, but it’s expressing the idea that it would not have been reasonable to see the Jewish people during the Exodus as even desiring to choose.  They had just experienced the outstretched hand of God miraculously saving them from Egypt, followed by the revelation of God at Sinai.  They didn’t have a choice because too much had happened for them to believe otherwise.  This was not the world that most Jews would live in for all of eternity.  Most of us live in a world where faith in God and God’s involvement in this world is a choice, because we don’t see God as obviously as they did then.  Therefore the Jews at the time of the Purim story serve as a more realistic role model for the rest of the Jewish people for all future generations.

God’s existence and involvement in the Exodus was a matter of knowledge, the people acknowledged God after the splitting of the red sea, proclaiming, “This is my God and I will exalt him.”  But God’s existence and involvement in the Purim story is not as clear.  The people of Shushan chose to see their redemption as being through the hand of God even though it wasn’t obvious.  And the people chose to obligate themselves to uphold the Torah because of their faith in God’s divine presence continuously dwelling amongst them.

We live in a world where, like the Jews of Shushan, we have a choice whether we want to see God, believe in God’s presence amongst us, and obligate ourselves to follow in the ways of the lord, is a matter of free choice.  But when we choose to see the world in such a way, we are illuminated by the divine radiance, like that of the Menorah, through this relationship.  

Parshat Terumah

In the second verse of this week’s Parsha it says, “You shall accept gifts for me from every person whose heart so moves him. (Ex. 25:2)” The Hebrew word for gift in this context, and the name of the Parsha, is Terumah.  This word is linguistically similar to the Hebrew word, Romem – to elevate.

The 18^th century Hassidic leader, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, has an interesting lesson about this verse in his torah commentary which connects these two possible interpretations of the word Terumah.  He says that the gift being brought to God is really an elevation of God in our own thoughts and intentions.  When the verse talks about the gift being brought to God by “every person whose heart so moves him,” it is alluding to a person’s thoughts.  The gift to God is really an elevation of God in the person’s own mind, when that person is voluntarily thinking about God and letting God influence their actions.  The thoughts and feelings, which is what God truly desires, is made real when the person actually does an act that was motivated by their thoughts and feelings about God. 

The lesson for us is to remember that is not enough to want to do something nice for another person, or to want to act in a more religious way.  It might be the thought that counts, but the thought isn’t real unless we actually do something with that thought.  

Parshat Mishpatim

There is a story in the Talmud of a perspective convert who goes to the great Rabbi Shammai and says, “teach me all of the torah on one foot (meaning in one moment).”  Immediately, Shammai kicks him out.  So he goes across the street to the other great Rabbi, Hillel, and asks him the same thing.  Hillel agrees, he says, “do unto your fellow as you would have done unto you, the rest is commentary now go and study.”  For the great Torah sage, Hillel, correct behavior is only half of the lesson of Judaism, the other half is that you need to study.

At the end of this week’s parsha there is a very famous and important passage.  It says, that Moses took the book of the covenant and read it out loud to the nation, and the nation responded: “Naaseh ViNishmah” – “all that God has said, we will do and we will listen.”  What an unusual  statement.  Usually, we LISTEN to a proposal, think about it, and then we decide whether or not we will do it. In this week’s parsha, the Jewish people first said they will do, and then only afterwards did they say they will listen.

The midrash explains that this is what made the Jewish people worthy of receiving the torah.  God went to all of the other nations of the world and asked them if they would like the torah.  All the other nations replied, what does the torah contain?  After hearing ideas distasteful to them, they each rejected the divine gift of the torah.  But the Jewish people merited to receive the torah from God because they first said (Naaseh), we will do, and then they said (vinishma) we will listen to what is contained in the Torah.

On the surface this story seems to be compelling us towards blind faith.  That we should blind ourselves to what is contained in the torah and just DO, even if we have no idea what we’re doing!!!  If this were the lesson of the midrash it would only be necessary for the Jews to have responded we will DO (naaseh).  But the real lesson comes from their whole response, we will do AND we will listen (ViNishma).

The addition of vinishma teaches us an important model of religious life.  It is not sufficient to just do religious things, in order to fully receive the torah in the way the Jewish people did after Sinai, we must also listen to what the torah is teaching us.  Listening means that we must learn about the religious acts that we do, not just the details about how to perform mitzvoth, but the reasons why we have each of the mitzvoth.  We must think about how these acts give meaning to our lives.  By taking this lesson of vinishma to heart, ultimately, our religious life will influence our Jewish identity.

This declaration, Naaseh ViNishma, we will do and we will listen is a lesson on how to educate towards religious practice.  The doing needs to come before the learning.  Let’s use art to illustrate this point.  You can describe to someone a beautiful work of art, describe the theory behind the piece, show them the techniques used in creating the artwork, and explain to them how the lighting and color makes it a masterpiece.  But, unless they have seen that work of art for themselves they will not appreciate its beauty.  In contrast, if after having seen a work of art, experienced its beauty first hand, and learnt about the technique and theory which made that work of art a masterpiece, then the appreciation of that work of art will be enhanced far greater than it could have been before.

The same can be said for religious experience.  Studying about religion, while a worthwhile endeavor, might not be a sufficient in itself as a way to enrich one’s personal religious experience.  In order for a religious life to be fully appreciated, it must be experienced.  Once someone has familiarized themselves with the religious experience study will enhance that practice.

This is why we teach children at an early age to do mitzvoth.  Even before they are capable of understanding the meaning of a mitzvah we encourage them to do.  Our hope is that doing the acts will lead them to wonder why they do it, and this inquiry will lead to their own unique personal connection to the mitzvah.

Another aspect of this unusual statement, Naaseh vinishmah, is that it describes how your religious choices can influence your religious perspective.  The things you do or don’t do can directly influence your questions and doubts.  Your overall religious perspective, the questions we ask, the challenges and doubts we struggle with about our religion are often, directly influenced by whether or not we are practicing.  Naaseh Vinishmah is telling us that our learning, our soul searching, our questions, and our doubts should exist, that learning is an integral part of the equation.  The statement says we will do and we will listen.  The torah is directing us to do the learning, search our souls, and have questions.  But the questions which stem from a place of observance are fundamentally different than those from a place of non-observance.

There is a story which is told about a group of young Jews during the Enlightenment.  They are questioning the value of religion, and they feel that religion is a thing of the past which no longer has any relevance.  But in the spirit of intellectual honesty they want to give Judaism one last chance.  So they write down a list of their questions and issues and they decide that one of the young men from the group will go to learn in a yeshiva and try to find out if Judaism can answer their questions.  After some time the group reconvenes, and they ask their friend who had just spent considerable time immersed in Jewish life and Jewish learning if he has found the answers for their questions..

He describes how great his experience has been, how he has learnt so much and that he is so happy, but no word about any “answers.”  So they ask him again, “what about our questions did you find the answers to our questions!?!?”  He responds, “no, but I no longer have those same questions.”  When his religious perspective shifted so did his questions.  The torah wants our questions, but it wants them to be from a place of commitment to a Jewish way of life.  Choosing to commit to a Jewish way of life will shape your perspective differently than questioning from the outside.

The message which comes from the entire statement of Naaseh Vinishma is a vital component of Jewish life.  Action is the body of Jewish life, without action there can be no Jewish experience.  Study needs to go hand in hand with our Jewish experiences, because study is the spirit of Jewish life.

Parshat Yitro

This week’s Parsha contains in it the receiving of the Torah by the Jewish people on Mt. Sinai.  It is one of two times in the Torah that the Ten Commandments are listed.  Today I’d like to focus on the last of the Ten Commandments, “You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his male or female slave, or his ox or his donkey or anything that is your neighbor’s.”

Very simply, this commandment is instructing us not to desire things that don’t belong to us.  This commandment seems to instruct us regarding having a high quality of life as it relates to the statement in  Pirkei Avot (4:1), “Who is rich?  The one who is happy with his or her lot.”  The idea being, that the jealousy which comes from coveting what other people have is a result of not being content with what we have.  When our personal happiness is judged not by what we have alone and our own feelings of contentedness, but on what we have in comparison to others, we will never find true happiness.  There will always be someone with more me, therefore it will be impossible for me to achieve the true satisfaction of a happy life.  Therefore the Torah commands us not to covet the belongings of other people. 

If my focus is on what are the things that I need to make myself happy, then I will be able to set reasonable and meaningful goals for myself, resulting in a true sense of satisfaction and achievement with my accomplishments.    It is difficult in our consumer driven society to see other people’s nice stuff, (be it clothing, gadgets, cars, homes, schools our children attend, etc.) and want these things for ourselves.  It is human nature to desire nice things, so how do we fulfill this commandment?  The Talmud Yerushalmi (Berachot 4:2) describes a blessing that some of our great sages would say at the end of the day which relates to this idea.  The prayer is, “May it be your will (God) that others not be envious of us, and that we be envious of others.  By asking God for help and directing our minds to not want to covet we can train ourselves to want to overcome our jealous feelings.  It is difficult to overcome this strong emotion, but with God’s help and some practice and dedication on our part, we can train ourselves to minimize our jealous feelings.  

Parshat Beshalach

The Parsha opens with the verse, “Now when Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although it was nearer; for God said, ‘The people may have a change of heart when they see war, and return to Egypt.”  What’s interesting to me about this verse is that in Hebrew, the phrase, “although it was nearer,” could also be translated as “because it was nearer.” 

What does this change in translation add?  I believe it highlights a lesson about the importance of learning to cope with adversity.  The verse could now be saying, in my own words, “God did not want to take the people of Israel on the easy path, because if they didn’t learn how to deal with adversity they would not be able to successfully stand up to challenges.”

Religion is not about making life easier by taking away the need to think for ourselves and blindly follow commands.  Religious questions should not be dismissed with simple answers. Instead, we must first recognize the importance of the questions themselves and the struggle implicit in the questions being asked.  When approaching religious life without the depth and complexity that comes from struggle, often, that faith will not be able withstand challenge- it will easily fall apart.   

It is important to learn how to struggle with matters of life and religion so that when our beliefs are challenged, the foundations do not come tumbling down.  Furthermore, a deep personal connection to Judaism blossoms out of struggle and enhances our positive religious experiences.  This type of relationship with our Judaism is necessary to fulfill a phrase from later in the Parsha, “this is my God and I will glorify it.”

The sages used this term about glorifying God as the proof text for a concept of making the mitzvoth beautiful in the way that they are practiced.  A Midrash comments on that verse saying, “through my following of God’s commandments I will cause others to say that there is no God like God.”  It is necessary to have a deep and complex relationship with our religion to acquire such a deep and complex love of Torah and mitzvoth.  And, when a person fulfills God’s commandments from a place of such depth, it impacts not only on the individual himself, but on all those with whom he/she contacts.