Thursday, February 24, 2011

Parshat Vayakhel

BY: RIVKA COHEN

Vayakhel is one of those portions that, like the genealogies, can be hard to get through.  But there has to be something important about all these lists, because we like to think that G-d doesn’t include information in the Torah just for kicks. Based on the heavy emphasis on the details of the Mishkan{Tabernacle}, there must be something significant about exactly how it was built. On a closer look, one detail in particular stands out. Although most of the instructions for building the Mishkan are physical, the first instruction that Moshe gives his community is this:
This is the thing which the L-rd commanded, saying, Take from among you an offering to the L-rd: whoever is of a willing heart, let him bring it, an offering to the L-rd (35: 4-5).[1]
וַיֹּאמֶר מֹשֶׁה אֶל כָּל עֲדַת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל לֵאמֹר זֶה הַדָּבָר אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה" לֵאמֹר : קְחוּ מֵאִתְּכֶם תְּרוּמָה לַה" כֹּל נְדִיב לִבּוֹ יְבִיאֶהָ אֵת תְּרוּמַת ה"[2]

Variations on the phrase לב נדיב(“willing heart”) occur repeatedly throughout the rest of the parsha, with three points of emphasis during the initial construction phase:
And they came, everyone whose heart stirred him up, and everyone whom his spirit made willing, and they brought the L-rd’s offering for the work of the Tent of Meeting, and for all its service, and for the holy garments. (35: 21)
וַיָּבֹאוּ כָּל אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר נְשָׂאוֹ לִבּוֹ וְכֹל אֲשֶׁר נָדְבָה רוּחוֹ אֹתוֹ הֵבִיאוּ אֶת תְּרוּמַת ה" לִמְלֶאכֶת אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד וּלְכָל עֲבֹדָתוֹ וּלְבִגְדֵי הַקֹּדֶשׁ


And they came, both men and women, as many as were willing of heart…(35: 22)
וַיָּבֹאוּ הָאֲנָשִׁים עַל הַנָּשִׁים כֹּל נְדִיב לֵב הֵבִיאוּ חָח וָנֶזֶם וְטַבַּעַת וְכוּמָז כָּל כְּלִי זָהָב וְכָל אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר הֵנִיף תְּנוּפַת זָהָב לַה"

The children of Yisrae’el brought a willing offering to the L-rd, every man and woman, whose heart made them willing to bring for all manner of work, which the L-rd had commanded by the hand of Moshe, to be made (35: 29)
כָּל אִישׁ וְאִשָּׁה אֲשֶׁר נָדַב לִבָּם אֹתָם לְהָבִיא לְכָל הַמְּלָאכָה אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה" לַעֲשׂוֹת בְּיַד מֹשֶׁה הֵבִיאוּ בְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל נְדָבָה לַה"


Eventually, in verse 5 of the next chapter, Moshe has to tell the people to stop. When the people bring G-d the offerings from the willingness of their hearts, there are so many gifts that the artisans building the Mishkan are overwhelmed.
To check the significance of this detail, we can look at the instructions for the other holy structure that G-d commands the Israelites to build. In Vayakhel’s Haftarah in I Kings, we find another long list of description surrounding how Beis Hamikdash{Holy Temple} was built. This time, what stands out is not something present, but instead something missing. Unlike the building of the Mishkan, here the description includes only the physical details – the materials and measurements of the Temple, and nothing more. The haftarah gives no comment on what the condition was of the hearts of those who built the temple. But looking deeper into the surrounding material in the rest of I Kings, we can make an educated guess.
In chapter 5, we learn that Solomon’s construction plans involved sending shifts of thirty thousand Israelites, under forced labor, to work in a foreign land for the sake of the house of G-d. To Solomon and to those who came after, the first Temple was a symbol of G-d’s presence in an often painful world. But to the Israelites who were sent into exile, however briefly, to work in stone quarries for the sake of its construction, G-d’s Temple was probably a source of their pain, not the reprieve.
Were the Israelites who gave freely of their possessions and the work of their hands less obligated to do so than the Israelites who were sent in shifts to build the Temple? It doesn’t seem that way. Each instance required resources and manpower to complete a necessary task. The Tabernacle had to be fashioned, the Temple had to be built, and each according to a highly specific blueprint. The Mishkan required blue, purple, and scarlet linen and goats’ hair; the Temple required cedar wood imported from Lebanon. But while Solomon fulfilled the temple’s construction needs by means of coercion, Moses accomplished equally intricate and demanding requirements by the willingness of his people’s hearts.
However, the parsha still makes it clear that the significance of one’s motivation does not outweigh the importance of what one does. Even before Moses instructs the people to give as their hearts move them, he instructs them in the laws of Shabbat, a serious obligation regardless of however motivated the Israelites do or do not feel about it. Laws like these, and halacha as a whole, can sometimes feel even more overwhelming in their details than Vayakhel: what we eat, when we pray, which shoe we put on first in the morning. This week in Princeton NJ, candlelighting is at 5:27 pm, not 5:25, and we will cut our singing short at seudah shlishit to make Ma’ariv at 6:28. In my religious observance, like when reading Vayakhel, sometimes I get the urge to ditch all these minute requirements and skip to “the good stuff.” Forget about how I put on my shoes – why can’t I just not sell a poor guy for them and call it quits?
But like the details of the Mishkan outlined in Vayakhel, maybe the lengthy details of halacha are one way G-d helps us internalize that both what we do and how we do it are important. Putting on my right shoe first might not seem as important as social justice, but observing the “small things” creates a mutually reinforcing system with the “big things” that preserves the importance of the details of both. And Vayakhel reminds us that one of these details is the motivation of our hearts. It is that motivation that turns halacha, the endless instructions for how to build our structured religious lives, from tedious labor into a joyous and overwhelming expression of devotion to our G-d.

(Almost) Shabbat Shalom,
Rivka


[1] Translations according to The Koren Jerusalem Bible
[2] Hebrew from www.chabad.org

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Parshat Ki Tisa- Being Part of the Kehillah

BY: DANIELLE LIT


Judaism highly values community.  Two of its cherished traditions, reading from the Torah and saying Mourner’s Kaddish, both require there to be a minimum of ten Jews present. Yet Judaism also highly values the individual, and teaches both Ahavat Yisrael, and the value of every Jew.  In this week's parsha, Parshat Ki Tisa, both of these roles, that of the individual and of the Kehillah (community), face very serious tension. This week’s parsha writes of the creation and worshiping of the Golden calf, and Judaism isn’t such a fan of idolatry.
When Hashem speaks to Moses about the sin of the Golden Calf he tells Moses, "Go down, for your people, whom you have brought up out of the land of Egypt, have become corrupt” (Shemot 32:7, emphasis mine). The fact that Hashem switches ownership and responsibility of the people to Moses demonstrates the severity of the people’s act. Midrash Rabbah picks up on the wording here and writes that Moses then asks G-d how the Jewish people could possibly be ‘Moses’ people’. Moses had just finished receiving ‘version one’ of the Ten Commandments which begins: “I am the Lord, your God, Who took you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.” (Exodus 20:2, emphasis again mine).  
The people’s calculated date of Moses’s return was not the actual date. While Moses was absent, the response of the Israelites was one of panic and a loss of faith. The result was mass hysteria. People ceased to think for themselves and let fear overtake them; in this moment of doubt the community turned to ‘group think’. Yet being in a Kehillah, one needs to maintain thoughtful intelligence.  There is a dual responsibility: thinking for yourself as well as thinking as a community.  Doing just the second is not enough and each person also needs to take responsibility  to stop and think-- to exercise one’s individuality--and consider rationally whether or not the group’s choice is a responsible one, for in our Kehillah, there is power in numbers. 
This takes courage. One is charged with the responsibility to think twice - once as a part of a group and once as an individual -  and sometimes one needs to stand up and challenge the decision making process.  A person might become an unwilling leader, charged with the vital necessity to momentarily step away from the community and challenge what the group wishes to do. Indeed, while Moses is receiving the Torah there is a person who had the opportunity to step up to this leadership position in his absence: Aaron.  But when the group tells Aaron of their fears and their desire to make the calf, “Come on! Make us gods that will go before us, because this man Moses, who brought us up from the land of Egypt we don't know what has become of him." (Exodus 32:1) What does Aaron do?  In this moment where Aaron had the opportunity to step up as an individual and attempt to break away from the Kehillah, he does not. Rather, he bends to majority rule and instructs the people to “remove the golden earrings that are on the ears of your wives, your sons, and your daughters and bring them [those earrings] to me.” (Exodus 32:2) In so doing, Aaron carries out the will of the community and instructs them as to how to proceed to construct the Golden Calf.
This story is an example in Jewish History of when community thinking makes a big mess of faith, and it takes a leader, Moses, to return them to the right path.  G-d warns Moses about the people’s stubbornness and of their actions and tells Moses that G-D’s “anger will be kindled against them so that I will annihilate them, and I will make you into a great nation." (Exodus 32:10).  In that moment, however, Moses steps up and takes charge as a leader.  Moses, the individual, acts for his community and begs Hashem for compassion for the Kehillah, saying, "Why, O Lord, should your anger be kindled against Your people whom You have brought up from the land of Egypt with great power and with a strong hand?”  (Exodus 32:11, emphasis mine). The repetitive use of “You” and “Your” here is Moses’s attempt to plead with Hashem to be merciful and compassionate and resume ownership of the Jewish people. He continues to attempt to sway G-D and includes the merits of the individuals “Abraham, Isaac, and Israel” (Exodus 32:13), and finally Hashem agrees to spare the Jewish people.
When Moses comes down from the mountain, he is appalled by the community he sees, and he throws the tablets containing the Ten Commandments, shattering them. He then asks Aaron, "What did this people do to you that you brought [such] a grave sin upon them?" (32:21) He is asking Aaron why Aaron did not step up to the position of leadership.  Aaron shunned his responsibility of, in this case, opposing the community and leading it, and therefore is especially responsible for their misdeeds. He had the opportunity to lead and to state his individual opinion, but he denied his responsibility to lead in Hashem’s direction.  Moses in turn steps up to the leadership role and after chastising both the people and Aaron, he individually returns to Hashem as a member of the community he has just chastised and seeks Hashem’s forgiveness for the community. Moses pleads for the people and also throws his lot in with the rest of the Israelites, telling Hashem that if the people’s actions cannot be forgiven then “erase me now from your book” (32:32).  For Moses too is a member of this Kehillah. Moses identifies himself as a member of the community; he is still part of the Jewish people even after their sinful behavior. G-d forgives the people and does not wipe them out for their grievous error. Further, Moses’ act of leadership saves the day, but his refusal to separate himself from the Kehillah also shows the inherent value of that community.As Hillel taught in Pirkei Avot, “Don't separate yourself from the community.” Moses does not.
Hashem supports Moses’ request for compassion and that he stands by his community.In fact, towards the end of the parsha, Hashem gives the Jewish people the mitzvot of Shabbat and tells them not to “cook a kid in its mother’s milk” (33:26). Kashrut and Shabbat are two mitzvot that strengthen the bond between individuals and Hashem, as well as within the Jewish Kehillah as a whole. As Peninah Feldman pointed out in last week’s blog: “Actions like showing up to kosher meals or going to davening or participating in Shabbat help keep me a part of the Jewish people as a community.”
Judaism prizes the community. At the end of this week's parsha and today, thousands of years later, we still prize community. Richness comes from our kehillah. It is where we can go to get our strength. However, Judaism prizes the individual as well.  One of the inherent challenges within Judaism is finding the balance of nurturing oneself within the community.Yes, I am a part of a community, but I also need to be willing to raise my own, individual voice. Judaism looks for a community to be formed by individuals who are then supported by that community. At the very beginning of this week’s parsha, in chapter 30, Hashem instructs everyone to “give to the Lord an atonement for his soul…half a shekel…everyone who goes through the counting… shall give an offering to G-D. The rich shall give no more and the poor shall give not less”. About this the Lubavitcher Rebbe wrote that “...all are equal in the very basis of their bond with G-D: the intrinsic commitment to him that resides at the core of their souls… As regards the foundation of the relationship between man and G-D, the ‘rich man’ cannot give more, and the ‘pauper cannot give less.”
We all have something valuable to give to the community whether it is a thought, an idea, a practice, a teaching or a belief. Being a part of the community is huge, but alone it is not enough. And so as Jews, we must ask ourselves not only what our community can give to us, but what we as individuals can give to the community.
 
(Texts quoted are from the Chabad.org Tanach)

Friday, February 11, 2011

Parshat Tetzaveh : 'קֹדֶשׁ (יִשְׂרָאֵל!) לַה


BY: PENINAH FELDMAN

לו וְעָשִׂיתָ צִּיץ, זָהָב טָהוֹר; וּפִתַּחְתָּ עָלָיו פִּתּוּחֵי חֹתָם, קֹדֶשׁ לַיהוָה.  לז וְשַׂמְתָּ אֹתוֹ עַל-פְּתִיל תְּכֵלֶת, וְהָיָה עַל-הַמִּצְנָפֶת; אֶל-מוּל פְּנֵי-הַמִּצְנֶפֶת, יִהְיֶה.  לח וְהָיָה, עַל-מֵצַח אַהֲרֹן, וְנָשָׂא אַהֲרֹן אֶת-עֲו‍ֹן הַקֳּדָשִׁים אֲשֶׁר יַקְדִּישׁוּ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל, לְכָל-מַתְּנֹת קָדְשֵׁיהֶם; וְהָיָה עַל-מִצְחוֹ תָּמִיד, לְרָצוֹן לָהֶם לִפְנֵי יְהוָה.  לט וְשִׁבַּצְתָּ הַכְּתֹנֶת שֵׁשׁ, וְעָשִׂיתָ מִצְנֶפֶת שֵׁשׁ; וְאַבְנֵט תַּעֲשֶׂה, מַעֲשֵׂה רֹקֵם.  מ וְלִבְנֵי אַהֲרֹן תַּעֲשֶׂה כֻתֳּנֹת, וְעָשִׂיתָ לָהֶם אַבְנֵטִים; וּמִגְבָּעוֹת תַּעֲשֶׂה לָהֶם, לְכָבוֹד וּלְתִפְאָרֶת.  מא וְהִלְבַּשְׁתָּ אֹתָם אֶת-אַהֲרֹן אָחִיךָ, וְאֶת-בָּנָיו אִתּוֹ; וּמָשַׁחְתָּ אֹתָם וּמִלֵּאתָ אֶת-יָדָם, וְקִדַּשְׁתָּ אֹתָם--וְכִהֲנוּ לִי.  מבוַעֲשֵׂה לָהֶם מִכְנְסֵי-בָד, לְכַסּוֹת בְּשַׂר עֶרְוָה; מִמָּתְנַיִם וְעַד-יְרֵכַיִם, יִהְיוּ.  מג וְהָיוּ עַל-אַהֲרֹן וְעַל-בָּנָיו בְּבֹאָם אֶל-אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד, אוֹ בְגִשְׁתָּם אֶל-הַמִּזְבֵּחַ לְשָׁרֵת בַּקֹּדֶשׁ, וְלֹא-יִשְׂאוּ עָו‍ֹן, וָמֵתוּ:  חֻקַּת עוֹלָם לוֹ, וּלְזַרְעוֹ אַחֲרָיו.
Shemot(Exodus) Chapter 28, verses 36-43**For a translation, see below**.

One phrase in this parshiya(section) stands out as very interesting- the words “ונשא אהרון את עון הקדשים” ("and Aaron shall bear the iniquity committed in the holy things") is not immediately clear.  Previously in this perek, Aharon is described as carrying two things – the inscribed names on shoulder stones of the ephod (vest of High Priest)), לְזִכָּרֹן" וְנָשָׂא אַהֲרֹן אֶת-שְׁמוֹתָם לִפְנֵי יְהוָה, עַל-שְׁתֵּי כְתֵפָיו" and on the choshen(breastplate),  וְנָשָׂא אַהֲרֹן אֶת-שְׁמוֹת בְּנֵי-יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּחֹשֶׁן הַמִּשְׁפָּט, עַל-לִבּוֹ--בְּבֹאוֹ אֶל-הַקֹּדֶשׁ"" and "וְנָשָׂא
אַהֲרֹן אֶת-מִשְׁפַּט בְּנֵי-יִשְׂרָאֵל עַל-לִבּוֹ".  The first two usages, both referring to “שמותם”- the inscribed names of Bnei Yisrael- are obviously literal usages of the verb “נשא”(to carry), because Aharon is literally carrying the object on which the names are inscribed.  The third usage, where Aharon is carrying “משפט בני ישראל” (lit. "The law/judement of the Children of Israel") may be literal as well; the choshen is describes as חושן משפט”- choshen mishpat and using just the word “משפט”(law/judgment) may be a shortened form of that phrase.   

However, when it comes to the usage of “נשא” by the tzitz, referring to the “עון הקדשים” the carrying is quite obviously figurative. The problem with this phrase is what is being carried- the “עון הקדשים”.  “עון” is generally used for the guilt of sin, and we have not heard of any sins bringing guilt upon kodashim in our context.  Rashi explains, “ונשא אהרן לשון סליחה, ואף על פי כן אינו זז ממשמעו, אהרן נושא את המשא של עון, נמצא מסולק העון מן הקדשים:” and “את עון הקדשים לרצות על הדם ועל החלב שקרבו בטומאה,” in essence translating the phrase as “Aharon will gain forgiveness for sins of the kodashim,” which refers to sins that have brought guilt upon the korbanot (sacrifices) when people brought them improperly.  Rashi takes the idea of “carrying” to mean “lifting away,” or “removing.”  This explanation looks ahead at the future function of the Beit Hamikdash- when there are korbanot, there will be improper service and Aharon will need to atone for that.  But Rashi’s explanation, as positive as it is (and as well-supported in the Rabbinic sources) does not really fit into this particular context.  Why bring up atonement for improper korbanot before Aharon has even begun to serve at all?  

To shed some light on Rashi, it helps to note that the idea of “נשא עון” is used in this sort of positive, forgiveness-oriented direction numerous times in Tanach.  It appears as a Divine attribute of mercy in all three listings (here in Shemot, in Bamidbar and in Micha) in exactly the sense that Rashi sees here.  This ties the package up neatly- the tzitz helps Aharon to parallel God’s merciful attribute of being a נושא עון  and this brings Israel to a place of רצון לפני ה' .  

The end of this parshiya, though, throws a somewhat serious wrench into this tidy reading.  In discussion of the linen pants that the Kohanim were to all wear, the text reads, “וְהָיוּ עַל-אַהֲרֹן וְעַל-בָּנָיו בְּבֹאָם אֶל-אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד, אוֹ בְגִשְׁתָּם אֶל-הַמִּזְבֵּחַ לְשָׁרֵת בַּקֹּדֶשׁ, וְלֹא-יִשְׂאוּ עָו‍ֹן, וָמֵתוּ:  חֻקַּת עוֹלָם לוֹ, וּלְזַרְעוֹ אַחֲרָיו. 
That is, the pants are there to prevent Aharon and his sons from carrying עון , which could be fatal.  This carrying of עון  would be difficult to interpret as we did the first instance, because nothing is being lifted away or removed.  Just the opposite, in fact- the Kohanim, if they do not wear the pants, will be made to carry עון, which goes along with the threat of death.  This instance of “carrying” returns to the sense it had by the inscribed names- this עון is something that the Kohanim will hold with them, not remove from someone else. So why is Aharon’s garment-aided carrying of עון a proper action that advances the case of Israel before God, while the Kohanim’s garment-free carrying of עון a potentially fatal mistake?  More to the point, given that both of these usages of נשא עון” could be read as reasonable based on other usages to opposite purposes, why place them here in one little parshiya next to one another?  

As Rebbe Nachman is often quick to point out, when every bit of Torah and sefer one learns and conversation that one has seems to all say the same thing and be speaking directly toward one’s purpose, there’s an opening between that person and something really amazing.  This week, since I’ve been thinking about this question, all the answers seem to be pointing toward one place.  Rabbi Jason Leib, my JLIC rabbi at Cornell, speaks briefly between Mincha and Maariv in our shul about some aspect of halacha, and recently we have been learning about דברים שבקדושה and what requires a minyan, how the idea of a minyan can stay with a group even when the tenth person has left the room during one section of the tefila.  Additionally, I have been listening to a podcast put out by Yeshivat Har Etzion, Keshet, and in the Mivneh Hatefila series Rav Ezra Bick speaks elegantly on the topic of communal prayer.  He brought up the Rambam who says, “תפילת הציבור, נשמעת תמיד; ואפילו היו בהן חטאים אין הקדוש ברוך הוא מואס תפילתן של רבים.” and the Rav’s ideas about how an individual approaching God is a presumptuous and inappropriate action, while the congregation approaching God has more merit.  

This brought me to think again about the idea of carried sin here.  When Aharon is carrying עון, he carries the עון of all of Israel’s קדשים(kodashim) and collects it all into his garments.  The collective עון of Israel’s קדשים is thereby switched into רצון- after all, the tzitz is all about קודש לה',"kadosh laHashem" and as Yirmiyahu says (in 2:3), “קֹדֶשׁ יִשְׂרָאֵל לַה, רֵאשִׁית תְּבוּאָתֹה”-Israel is kadosh laHashem-holy/sanctified to Hashem. The tzitz is on some level saying, “Yes, the nation of Israel messed up the kodashim, but the REAL kodashim is the nation of Israel itself.”  However, when the Kohanim carry עון, it is their own personal עון, for not being properly dressed, and individual sin is something that should not be brought before God.  

Sitting in the Hillel library in Cornell’s interfaith building, Anabel Taylor Hall, thinking about this dvar Torah, another idea occurred to me.  The concept of the human body is such a loaded idea- all the different parts carry such resonance on many different levels.  As I sketched out how the garments of the Kohanim might have appeared, I looked down at my paper to realize that I had effectively drawn a scaled-back version of what the “Adam Harishon” picture of the sefirot looked like.  It went from the Keter, up where the tzitz went, encircling the head, and to the Yesod, where the pants went on the diagram.  From that angle, I could clearly see another answer to the difference between these "carryings".  It reminded me very strongly of the image of Moshe fighting Amalek that Rebbe Nachman discusses, as brought in the first halacha of Hilchot Purim in his Likutei Halachot.  

Rebbe Nachman there describes quite powerfully the effect of Amalek as throwing things down from their origins above where everything is good, to a place below, where good and evil are distinct.  When Moshe raises his hands, or when we remember the events of Amalek, we bring all things to Keter, to Teshuva.  However, when Moshe lets his hands drop, or when we are not learning Torah, things fall down away from their roots and good and evil separate, allowing evil to be actually bad.  The tzitz is located at the symbolic home of Teshuva, in the space just above the human figure, and an עון there is not really bad because when Teshuva is in operation, sin is just another avenue to God.  However, the pants are further away, further down, and closer to the real world on which we walk.  When the real world is in operation, עון is in fact a dangerous thing and can bring death upon someone who is not careful to avoid it.  

It’s the serious part of the winter and the semester for those of us in school and often schoolwork can be very isolating.  One of the amazing things I’ve found about halachic obligations is how often without them I could go whole days without having any serious interactions with other people.  Actions like showing up to Kosher meals or going to davening or participating in Shabbat help keep me a part of the Jewish people as a community.  That community has its own existence and pathway to God’s רצון(will), greater than just the number of people who show up, and I see this reflected in the communal carrying of עון that Aharon can do with the tzitz.  Additionally, the tzitz reminds me that it can all lead to Teshuva and that all things can be lifted up to their roots until they are all good.  I hope that every one of you has an amazing Shabbat and a wonderful first Adar!  

*I really appreciate you, Goldie Guy and Rabbi Dena Shaffer, for talking this over with me!  I got texts entirely from Mechon Mamre except for the Rashi, which is from Chabad.org, and things I typed myself (they have no nekudot), the errors in which I take full blame for.  I apologize for switching back and forth with my transliterations and Hebrew writing.  I hope it’s not too maddening!  

**English translation of the Exodus text(from mechon-mamre.org)**:
36 And thou shalt make a plate of pure gold, and engrave upon it, like the engravings of a signet: HOLY TO THE LORD. 37 And thou shalt put it on a thread of blue, and it shall be upon the mitre; upon the forefront of the mitre it shall be. 38 And it shall be upon Aaron's forehead, and Aaron shall bear the iniquity committed in the holy things, which the children of Israel shall hallow, even in all their holy gifts; and it shall be always upon his forehead, that they may be accepted before the LORD. 39 And thou shalt weave the tunic in chequer work of fine linen, and thou shalt make a mitre of fine linen, and thou shalt make a girdle, the work of the weaver in colours. 40 And for Aaron's sons thou shalt make tunics, and thou shalt make for them girdles, and head-tires shalt thou make for them, for splendour and for beauty. 41 And thou shalt put them upon Aaron thy brother, and upon his sons with him; and shalt anoint them, and consecrate them, and sanctify them, that they may minister unto Me in the priest's office. 42 And thou shalt make them linen breeches to cover the flesh of their nakedness; from the loins even unto the thighs they shall reach. 43 And they shall be upon Aaron, and upon his sons, when they go in unto the tent of meeting, or when they come near unto the altar to minister in the holy place; that they bear not iniquity, and die; it shall be a statute for ever unto him and unto his seed after him. {S}

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Beshalach: Enlightening Darkness

By GOLDIE GUY
In last week`s Parasha, Parshat Chukat, we read about the 9th plague, the plague of choshech, or darkness.  Rav Ze`ev Friedman, a Ra”m in Midreshet Migdal Oz in Israel, points out that there are only three verses that describe the  choshech, yet we find in them a redundancy. In Chapter 10, verse 21, it says,
וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה אֶל-מֹשֶׁה, נְטֵה יָדְךָ עַל-הַשָּׁמַיִם, וִיהִי חֹשֶׁךְ, עַל-אֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם; וְיָמֵשׁ, חֹשֶׁךְ
“And the LORD said unto Moses: 'Stretch out thy hand toward heaven, that there may be darkness over the land of Egypt, even darkness which may be felt.”
Chaza”l noticed this repetition, and explained that the two descriptions of choshech actually point to two stages of the plague, in each of which the darkness was qualitatively different.  The first stage consisted of complete darkness, and involved the kind of darkness we`re all accustomed to seeing.  The second stage was palpable choshech, as the verse says “darkness which may be felt”. In this stage, the Egyptians` mobility was limited, to the point that when the darkness fell, they couldn`t move from the places in which they stood.
Rav Friedman asks: Why were Egyptians plagued by choshech? What does this plague symbolize?
The Midrash in Shemot Rabba explains:

שלח חשך ויחשיך ולא מרו את דברו, רבותינו אמרו על שלא קבלו במרות דברו של הקב"ה עליהם, ד"א אמר הקב"ה למלאכים המצריים ראויין ללקות בחשך, מיד הסכימו כולן כאחת ולא המרו
שמות רבה (וילנא) פרשת בא פרשה יד 
Rav Friedman highlights the connection made here in the midrash; the rejection of G-d`s sovereignty as the reason G-d inflicted darkness upon them; their continued blindness to G-d`s rulership`s (exemplified by Pharaoh`s saying:‘Who is G-d that I might heed his voice?’) leads to total and complete blindness, the physical blindness of the plague of darkness.
In this week`s parsha, pashat Beshalach, we find a similar occurrence. The parsha opens with Shirat Hayam, the ecstatic song on the sea, in which BneiYisrael exalt and praise G-d for saving them from the ahnds of the Egyptians. Immediately following this ecstatic song, we find what might be seen as jarring behavior on the part of the people. After beginning their journey in the wilderness (midbar), they complain about the lack of potable water. They travel on, and complain again about food. And when they start on the move again, another complaint follows, again over water. In their complaints, Bnei Yisrael lament over having left Egypt, an event over which they were joyously triumphant not a few months before. They turn on Moses and Aaron, almost becoming violent. Faced with a lack of water, they are ready to stone their humble leader Moses, who led their exodus from oppressive slavery to freedom!
Rav Yonatan Grossman comments that it was a common belief in the ancient world that gods only held dominion over settled areas, but had no control over open areas of wilderness. He proposes that this belief characterizes BneiYisrael`s attitude to their new life in the desert. As soon as they leave Egyptian civilization and enter the desert, they think God is no longer with them. Proofs to this claim are the fact that they address all 3 of their complaints to Moshe and Aaron, but do not direct them toward G-d. Additionally, the people describe their theoretical death had they stayed in Egypt as “by the hand of G-d” , but their potential death in the desert as due to physical causes, hunger and thirst.
Their lack of broader perspective distorts their short term perspective; the perception that god is not longer with them also affects the way they relate to earthly concerns and to each other. They romanticize their enslavement in Egypt; heretofore described only in negative terms, but now seeming to them like a haven full of food and luxury, compared to the desert, a place of barrenness; in reality, while in the desert they are protected and provided for by the presence of G-d constantly, day and night, and are finally a free people, slaves only to His will!
I think Rav Friedman`s point about the Choshech in Bo is applicable to the narratives of the travels and travails of Bnei Yisrael in parshat Beshalach as well; BneiYisrael`s lack of perspective on the level of the broader picture, their blindness to G-d`s presence in the desert, affected their short-term perspective and the way they related to their immediate physical needs and their leader Moshe. A skewed perspective on one end caused a similar distortion on the other, leaving them blind on both levels of reality.
I believe this is a truth of life in general, that if we do not relate in the proper manner to our immediate, smaller needs then our relationship to the bigger issues will be skewed as well, and vice versa. More specifically, however, this idea can be applied to our spiritual lives. In this Winter Week of Learning centered on “Judaism and the Other”, a group of amazing people took time from their vacation to come together and learn Torah. This is clearly an amazing display of sharp broader-picture vision; college-aged individuals dedicating a significant portion of their “down time” from school and work to the study of Torah and fostering their relationships with G-d, as well as their Jewish peers in a Torah community.
Every time I`ve come to learn at Drisha, whether for a single shiur or for a more extended period of time, I`ve had to stop and marvel at the people around me. Being at Drisha for some reason heightens my awareness of the uniqueness of everyone I encounter. I know that the people I encounter in other places have their own unique stories and personalities and are amazing in their own way; but being in a place of Torah learning and especially an environment that produces such dedicated, earnest and enthusiastic Torah study like Drisha, I believe heightens my awareness of those around me. The focus on Torah study and Torah values, which pertains, in my opinion, to the broader-picture level, sharpens my focus on my immediate surroundings, the smaller things, and allows me to better appreciate all that`s around me.
I`ll end with the blessing that we all are able to take such perspective with us always- to maintain the proper balance, and be more aware of the others around us, including the ultimate Other, G-d, at all times and in all places[i].
Shabbat Shalom.

**Hebrew verses, texts and their translations copied from the Mechon-Mamre website: http://www.mechon-mamre.org/

P.S.  Check out an insightful blog post by our fellow-Drisha student Aliza Donath, which partly inspired this dvar here:http://arbitribe.blogspot.com/2010/12/priorities.html

Friday, December 3, 2010

Chanukah: Sources on Light

By DP BLOG
Though most people have been writing beautiful, traditional divrei Torah, this blog was created with the hope that on occasion, writers would present alternative forms of expression.
This week, we present some words on Chanukah from a broad range of thinkers:
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame
Blessed is the flame that burns in the secret fastness of the heart.  ~Hannah Senesh
To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle.  ~Walt Whitman
Just as a candle cannot burn without fire, men cannot live without a spiritual life.  ~Buddha
We have focused on the miracle-thing and I think we often overlook the message of Hanukkah.  To me, the core of the holiday is the cleaning of the temple.... The accomplishment was in restoring the temple to the purpose for which it was built.  Now think of the temple as a symbol.  Perhaps it represents my life.  The world has tried to use me for its own (perhaps good, but none-the-less extrinsic) purposes.  But now I can rededicate myself to my own original purpose.  ~Ralph Levy
Let the straight flower bespeak its purpose in straightness
- to seek the light.
Let the crooked flower bespeak its purpose in crookedness
- to seek the light.
Let the crookedness and straightness bespeak the light.  ~Allen Ginsberg
I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders.  ~Jewish Proverb
Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.  ~Chinese Proverb
CHAG SAME'ACH!

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Vayeshev: Thanksgiving Edition!

By AJ BERKOVITZ

While Parshat Va-Yeshev prominently displays Joseph’s journey from slavery to freedom, it is nonetheless important to pay some attention to the entire dramatis persona. In the midst of this narrative lies a more subtle discourse on the relationship between two other brothers: Ruben and Judah. Without Ron Weasley Harry would be swimming with the fishes and Godric’s sword. Without gravy the turkey would be too bland. Without multiple sources – I mean fine literary technique of interweaving stories - the Bible would be less of an artistic mastery. In light of this, let us begin:

Although born first, Ruben is one of the more tragic biblical characters. Every attempt to assert his dominance ends in utter failure. He sleeps with his father’s concubine and is cursed. He attempts to save his brother and returns to the pit to find Joseph gone. He seeks redemption by promising his own sons in place of Benjamin only to be rejected by his father. Why is Ruben sidelined? Why does he fail?

To answer we need to understand the behavior of his younger brother: Judah. Judah, unlike Ruben does not seek to hide behind apologetics and censor which speaker - I mean Judah commands the respect of his brothers from the beginning. He proudly declares the plot to sell Joseph. From here came the budding seeds of the leadership which Judah would later acquire. It is to develop this point the Bible tangentially relates the story of Judah and Tamar. This story is tethered to the previous one by such key phrases as Haker Nah. For a good exposition on the intertextuality of these stories see the first chapter of Robert Altar’s Art of Biblical Narrative. This key phrase leads us to the development in the characterization of Judah as a leading character. The first Haker Nah, found in the Joseph Story, is tethered to the moment when the brothers seek to absolve themselves from the suspicion of selling Joseph. The brothers send a messenger with Joseph’s bloody coat to Jacob. The messenger proclaims: haker nah, and the brothers are safe. Although the instigator of the plot, Judah, at first, does not have the daring to fully take responsibility. This is precisely what the second Haker nah comes to emend. In the second story, Judah recognizes the Haker Nah. Instead of running away and preserving his honor, he understands his responsibility and takes action. A good leader accepts the consequence of his actions. A good Voldemort ought to know that killing Harry allows himself to be killed. A good turkey ought to run away, or institute a farm break, before the High Holiday of Yom Hodu comes around. After all, if Abaye claims that rats will store extra food because they know its Pesah soon (See B. Pesahim 9), than shouldn’t turkeys have some sense of self-preservation. But alas, nishtaneh ha’briyot (Nature changed. An argument employed many of our less colored bretheren to maintain the integrity of rabbinic science.) Judah was able to learn, entertain dialogue, be open minded, and all that other lovely ideas that the post- modern world best accentuates.

Ruben, on the other hand, did not use his leadership capabilities in a way that western democracy would see fit. Instead of wielding his authority in the right time, namely during the sale of Joseph, he misuses it to aggrandize himself and asset his own dominance. He fails. Instead of being perceptive to the result of his actions or accepting the consequences of them, Ruben floats unfettered in a daze of authority. He is at once arrogant and fearful. Come to think of it, sounds like many dictators. His reign cannot last and the place of honor switches from his hands to that of his younger brother. In some sense the theme of the entire book of bereshit: v’rav ya’avod tzair. Ruben falls to Judah, Voldemort caves to Harry, Turkey to us, and obscurantist institutions claiming to be a university to, well, truth.

A true leader needs to be like Judah: understanding the limits of his power and most importantly when and where to wield it. It is with this understanding many of the Judean kingship reigned. Most notably of course, King David: The Once and Future King. (“And My servant David shall be king over them, and they all shall have one shepherd; they shall also walk in Mine ordinances, and observe My statutes, and do them” Ezekiel 37:24.)

Friday, November 19, 2010

Vayishlach: Face-ing Up

By EMILY LEVINE

*The following ideas are based on a conversation I had with David Marks.

A basic reading of the first two perakim in Parshat Vayishlach reveals an interesting pattern. The shoresh פ.נ.ה. (literally translated as face) is used a total of nine times. We first see this phrasing in the reasoning Ya’akov gives for the elaborate set of gifts he sends to his brother: “…For he reasoned, ‘If I propitiate (אכפרה פניו) with presents in advance, and then face him (אראה פניו), perhaps he will show me favor (ישא פני).’ And so the gift went on ahead (על פניו)…” (Gen. 32:21-22). Our narrative is then interrupted by the story of Ya’akov’s struggle with the “man” and subsequent name-change from Ya’akov to Yisrael. Ya’akov names the site of the encounter “Penuel” because he had seen God face to face, "פנים אל פנים" and survived. Just a few lines later we again come across this familiar term during Ya’akov’s actual reunion with his long-estranged brother. Ya’akov entreats Eisav to accept the gift, “for to see your face is like seeing the face of God” (33:10). The story then ends happily; both Ya’akov and Eisav continue on their separate ways, and Ya’akov arrives safely at his next destination, where he immediately settles in, "ויחן את פניהעיר" (33:18).

The language used in this story is clearly not coincidental. I would like to suggest that the repetitive references to panim, to face-to-face interactions, are brought to emphasize a shift in Ya’akov’s character. These face-to-face interactions Ya’akov has, represent a personal transformation, as he is converted from a man of trickery into a new man, ready to openly face his past.

Until this point, Ya’akov has been consistently involved in acts of deception. He tricks his brother twice, misleads his father, Yitzhak, and even his name has connotations of deception (see 27:36). Even leaving the country does nothing to change this condition. In Lavan’s house, too, Ya’akov is constantly surrounded by fraud and trickery. As Ya’akov now returns to Canaan, the realization begins to creep up on him that he finally has to face what he’s been running from for the past twenty two years. The first message he sends to his brother, while polite, is shadowed with self-confidence, self-importance, and perhaps, even a bit of arrogance. Ya’akov boasts of the great wealth he has acquired while abroad. 

Yet, when his messengers return to report Eisav’s approach, with an army of men behind him, Ya’akov is frightened and loses his original confidence. He strategizes, he prays, he sends gifts. And gifts. And gifts.  Ya’akov’s level of fear compels him to change his original approach. He is hit with the realization that maybe now is the time when he will be forced to confront Eisav head on, to fess up to the deception that has been lying untouched for over two decades. Ya’akov reasons, maybe if I send presents first, the honesty won’t be as painful. Here he brings up the idea of panim, of open discussion and confrontation, yet still doesn’t seem comfortable with the idea just yet. It is almost as though he stumbles over the words, the shoresh פ.נ.ה. appearing four times in the span of just a passuk and a half.

But now, Ya’akov meets God. After struggling all night with the “man,” the name Ya’akov is switched to Yisrael.  A name of deception is replaced by a name that has honesty and uprightness at its root (ישר). And what was it that caused this radical change? Ya’akov himself explains this to be a result of a face-to-face encounter with God himself. The awesome interaction manages to strip away the deception of Ya’akov and bring out the man who can openly confront his fears, the man who is Yisrael.

Now Ya’akov is prepared to meet his brother. The brothers embrace and weep, and Ya’akov explains to Eisav that “to see your face is like seeing the face of God” (33:10). The encounter with God clearly had a strong influence on Ya’akov. It allowed him the ability to meet his brother face-to-face, to interact with his brother in person and overcome the fears that had been haunting him these past twenty two years.

Ya’akov continues on in his journeys and arrives safely in Shechem (שלם, lit. whole). Rashi explains his safe arrival to be an overall state of well-being, in terms of health, riches and religious steadfastness. Ya’akov finally settles down,"ויחן את פני העיר" (33:18) - capable of facing his past and living up to his new identity of Yisrael.