Parashat Titzaveh
Why do we display menorahs in our sanctuaries? Sixteenth century children's education book, Sefer HaHinuch reminds us: "The precept of kindling the menorah in the sanctuary: ... at the root of the precept lies the fact that the Eternal Lord ... commanded us that a lamp should burn in the Sanctuary, to magnify the glory and splendor of the Temple in the eyes of those who behold it. For such is the way of people, to attain distinction in their houses with burning lights ... a man's heart should become infused, when he sees it, with reverent awe and humility..."
Reverence, awe and humility: the symbol of the menorah should engender emotions spiritual emotions.
Jews see so much symbolically. Later this parashah commands the priestly garments, which the Talmud interprets: Rabbi 'Inyani b. Sason also said: Why are the sections on sacrifices and the priestly vestments close together [in the Torah]? To teach you: as the sacrifices make atonement, so do the priestly vestments make atonement. The coat atones for bloodshed ... The breeches atone for lewdness ... The mitre (hat) atones for arrogance ... The girdle atones for impure meditations of the heart ... The breastplate atones for neglect of civil laws ... The ephod atones for idolatry ... The robe atones for slander. The headplate atones for brazenness." (B. Zevahim 88b, Soncino trans. p. 419)
Why do we care about the symbolic meanings? There has not been an active priesthood since 70 c.e. BECAUSE, since 90 c.e. Jews have symbolically dressed deceased bodies in these same priestly garments for burial. What is the symbolic meaning? That death atones for our sins in life. No, not that we all commit all of these sins. But that Judaism states, in a symbolic way to be sure, viz.: dressing the deceased in a traditional shroud, that death is the ultimate atonement for our earthly sins. All transgression is forgivable with death. Yes, God will punish us for our sins. There is a cost to our bad behavior. But ultimately, God forgives our frailties.
Let the menorah inspire your awe.
Let the priestly garments remind you to do your best but to know that God forgives.
And look for the symbolic meaning in all commandments. It's the Jewish approach to life.
Shabbat shalom.
Friday, February 27, 2015
Friday, February 20, 2015
Parashat Terumah: The Role of Art
Exodus 25:8: "Let them build for me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them."
How might a sanctuary of God appear?
Jewish prayer books are the realization of that sanctuary! They are the place in which God lives.
The first daily, intermediate blessing of the Amidah (Tefillah) thanks the gracious God for the rational mind (Atah honen l'adam da'at...), and Judah Halevi in The Kuzari says the reason is because that is how we draw near to God.
Medieval Jewish poets, like Halevi, composed love poems describing the love between God and Israel. Illustrators like 14th century Ashkenazi artist Yoel ben Simon, who painted the magnificent pictures of the Ashkenazi and Washington haggadahs, channeled their passion through God's art forms to extol God and inextricably tie the divine to the human. Human artistry, an expression of the divine flowing through the human, captures an imperfect but human glimpse of God's perfection and brings God into the world, fulfilling Exodus' command that God may dwell among us. That's part of what we mean when Genesis says "Let us create humanity in our image and likeness..." (Genesis 1:26) We translate the image of God into the world.
In Beth Torah's medieval, kabbalistic influenced Sefer Torah, still used today and in our ark, the inverted Hebrew letters "nun" in Numbers 10 appear in words rather than their typical places between verses. (To see what I am referring to in the ordinary Torah scroll, open any Hebrew chumash to Exodus 10:35-36) The kabbalistic explanation for the inverted "nuns" is that they stretch from heaven to earth, bringing down God from heaven, connecting the divine and human realms! That indeed is what Exodus 25:8 demands, and what the artistry of the siddur (prayer book) fulfills: the more artistic the more connection!
The artist and the prophet both dedicate their lives to putting in human terms the divine design. Many humans climb Sinai, each following her/his own ascent. When they return with their tablets, it becomes our privilege to experience their vision, for there lives within a portion of God's sanctuary on earth.
Exodus 25:8: "Let them build for me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them."
How might a sanctuary of God appear?
Jewish prayer books are the realization of that sanctuary! They are the place in which God lives.
The first daily, intermediate blessing of the Amidah (Tefillah) thanks the gracious God for the rational mind (Atah honen l'adam da'at...), and Judah Halevi in The Kuzari says the reason is because that is how we draw near to God.
Medieval Jewish poets, like Halevi, composed love poems describing the love between God and Israel. Illustrators like 14th century Ashkenazi artist Yoel ben Simon, who painted the magnificent pictures of the Ashkenazi and Washington haggadahs, channeled their passion through God's art forms to extol God and inextricably tie the divine to the human. Human artistry, an expression of the divine flowing through the human, captures an imperfect but human glimpse of God's perfection and brings God into the world, fulfilling Exodus' command that God may dwell among us. That's part of what we mean when Genesis says "Let us create humanity in our image and likeness..." (Genesis 1:26) We translate the image of God into the world.
In Beth Torah's medieval, kabbalistic influenced Sefer Torah, still used today and in our ark, the inverted Hebrew letters "nun" in Numbers 10 appear in words rather than their typical places between verses. (To see what I am referring to in the ordinary Torah scroll, open any Hebrew chumash to Exodus 10:35-36) The kabbalistic explanation for the inverted "nuns" is that they stretch from heaven to earth, bringing down God from heaven, connecting the divine and human realms! That indeed is what Exodus 25:8 demands, and what the artistry of the siddur (prayer book) fulfills: the more artistic the more connection!
The artist and the prophet both dedicate their lives to putting in human terms the divine design. Many humans climb Sinai, each following her/his own ascent. When they return with their tablets, it becomes our privilege to experience their vision, for there lives within a portion of God's sanctuary on earth.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Parashat Yitro:
In Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy 5 the Ten Commandments appear in their most recognizable form. Among their differences, Deuteronomy prohibits both coveting and craving whereas Exodus forbids only coveting. Both appear to prohibit a mental state.
Some commentaries distinguish coveting as an organizing principle for the Ten Commandments. The legal midrash on Exodus, Mekhilta (3rd century c.e.) explains that if a person craves something, ultimately that person will covet. If s/he covets, ultimately s/he will steal. Each level leads to the next, until all of the Ten Commandments may be broken. Here the connection between action and thought becomes apparent. Simply prohibiting activities does not prevent sinning because we are motivated by our thoughts and emotions. Better to refrain from those intangible, mental catalysts that lead us astray.
Similarly, Rabbi J. H. Hertz in his 20th century commentary claims that the Tenth Commandment prohibits "anything that we cannot get in an honest and legal manner." He asserts that the law "goes to the root of all evil actions -- the unholy instincts of predatory desire, which are the spring of nearly every sin against a neighbor." (The Pentateuch and Haftorahs, p. 300)
The medieval biblical commentators Ibn Ezra and Sforno view the prohibition of coveting as forbidding the desire for specific objects. Ibn Ezra begins by saying that we must wonder how the Torah can forbid the desire for something delightful to the eye. After all, the delights of the senses are gifts of God! But a student must train himself to suppress longing for objects God has not planned for him to possess. Thus, avoiding coveting is a matter of training beginning in early childhood, a lesson parents do well to inculcate. Similarly, Sforno tells us that we should simply view everything that belongs to someone else as beyond our reach. The problem is not that we desire things in general, but that we desire specific objects or persons that God has prohibited.
Alternatively, the nineteenth century commentary known as Malbim distinguishes between coveting and craving, not as degrees of emotional intensity, as does the midrash Mekhilta, but as a result of an internal or external driver: either imagination or sight. We do not covet our neighbor's spouses as a result of imagination. It is only seeing another person in the flesh that we covet that person. But we can covet our neighbor's wealth by imagining what it would be like to possess it ourselves, without actually experiencing anything. Both are common sins in the affluent society.
This week with the scandals of television anchor Brian Williams and UMKC Bloch Business School, we witness individuals who desired what they could not have and did not earn. Neither really needed the status brought by their exaggerations, but they needed to appease some inner desire to prove a different status. They risked so much just to appease their craving! In retrospect, recognizing and restraining the desire would have made them happier with life. We, too, should remember that coveting surrounds us all of the time. We do well to guard our emotions and desires from betraying our souls.
The Torah generally demands avoidance of particular actions rather than thoughts. But in this prohibition of coveting we recognize a fundamental emotion or thinking pattern that plays a major role in our transgressions against God and our neighbors. For that reason it assumes a place in the most important law code in the Torah.
Shabbat shalom.
In Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy 5 the Ten Commandments appear in their most recognizable form. Among their differences, Deuteronomy prohibits both coveting and craving whereas Exodus forbids only coveting. Both appear to prohibit a mental state.
Some commentaries distinguish coveting as an organizing principle for the Ten Commandments. The legal midrash on Exodus, Mekhilta (3rd century c.e.) explains that if a person craves something, ultimately that person will covet. If s/he covets, ultimately s/he will steal. Each level leads to the next, until all of the Ten Commandments may be broken. Here the connection between action and thought becomes apparent. Simply prohibiting activities does not prevent sinning because we are motivated by our thoughts and emotions. Better to refrain from those intangible, mental catalysts that lead us astray.
Similarly, Rabbi J. H. Hertz in his 20th century commentary claims that the Tenth Commandment prohibits "anything that we cannot get in an honest and legal manner." He asserts that the law "goes to the root of all evil actions -- the unholy instincts of predatory desire, which are the spring of nearly every sin against a neighbor." (The Pentateuch and Haftorahs, p. 300)
The medieval biblical commentators Ibn Ezra and Sforno view the prohibition of coveting as forbidding the desire for specific objects. Ibn Ezra begins by saying that we must wonder how the Torah can forbid the desire for something delightful to the eye. After all, the delights of the senses are gifts of God! But a student must train himself to suppress longing for objects God has not planned for him to possess. Thus, avoiding coveting is a matter of training beginning in early childhood, a lesson parents do well to inculcate. Similarly, Sforno tells us that we should simply view everything that belongs to someone else as beyond our reach. The problem is not that we desire things in general, but that we desire specific objects or persons that God has prohibited.
Alternatively, the nineteenth century commentary known as Malbim distinguishes between coveting and craving, not as degrees of emotional intensity, as does the midrash Mekhilta, but as a result of an internal or external driver: either imagination or sight. We do not covet our neighbor's spouses as a result of imagination. It is only seeing another person in the flesh that we covet that person. But we can covet our neighbor's wealth by imagining what it would be like to possess it ourselves, without actually experiencing anything. Both are common sins in the affluent society.
This week with the scandals of television anchor Brian Williams and UMKC Bloch Business School, we witness individuals who desired what they could not have and did not earn. Neither really needed the status brought by their exaggerations, but they needed to appease some inner desire to prove a different status. They risked so much just to appease their craving! In retrospect, recognizing and restraining the desire would have made them happier with life. We, too, should remember that coveting surrounds us all of the time. We do well to guard our emotions and desires from betraying our souls.
The Torah generally demands avoidance of particular actions rather than thoughts. But in this prohibition of coveting we recognize a fundamental emotion or thinking pattern that plays a major role in our transgressions against God and our neighbors. For that reason it assumes a place in the most important law code in the Torah.
Shabbat shalom.
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