Passover 5775

How many cups of wine do you drink at your seder: 4 or 5?

What do you dip the parsley in: saltwater or haroset?

Are the matzahs on a plate or in a basket? Are they round or square, soft or hard?

Do you have hard boiled eggs on your plate, in a soup, or not at all?

Is there an orange on your seder plate?

Do you say "Pour out your wrath who the nations who do not know you?" or "Pour our your love on the nations who know you?"

In one week 90% of North American Jewry will tell ourselves the ancient narrative of the Hebrew exodus from Egypt, the root experience of the Jewish people, as the seder says, "In every generation each person is obligated to see himself as though he came out of Egypt."

Keep the children engaged, that is a cardinal rule of the seder. Have fun, that's the solution. Whatever it takes! Be flexible! Each of the customs above was or is practiced in pious Jewish families. I haven't found hard boiled eggs as a meal item in a seder before the middle of the 19th century! Oranges are from the 1990s. In 14th century Europe, some people drank 4 cups and some drank 5 cups. Before the 16th century, karpas was dipped in haroset not salt water. What's the determining factor? What is most meaningful to you? Discuss at the seder table what each ritual means in your life!

The seder narrative begins in Aramaic, the language of the common people, with, "This is the bread of affliction our ancestors ate in the Land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat..."

What does that mean to you? Typically I find people answering the question by saying, "We invite the poor into our homes."  But how could that be? If you have invited guests, you're not going to begin the seder by telling them, "You're here because you are poor." And if you haven't invited guests, it's too late to do it now. You've already started the seder. So what does it mean?

What are you doing at that moment? You raise the matzah, the central symbol of Passover, and declare that it's the bread of poverty/affliction (the word anya means both). We begin (At least in my opinion. What's yours?) declaring our intention, that we are going to eat the bread of poverty. The same paragraph concludes the way the entire seder ends, bookending the seder: Next year in Jerusalem! Next year, let everyone be free.  Next year, may the messiah have come to free all people. Next year, may no one eat the bread of affliction and poverty. But now, let's tell the story of how once we were slaves, and now we are free!

But even as we declare that once we were slaves eating poverty's bread, we lean to the left the way free Romans ate their meals in leisure, discussing serious matters  as they supped in splendor. So do we!

Once there was a man who was very poor and dressed in rags. But over time the man became rich, lived in in a large home, and hired servants. The man had his servants store away his rags. Each year the man instructed his servants to bring out the rags for one day. He'd dress in them, and live as he had when he was very poor.

The servants asked, "Master, you can afford whatever you want. Why would you live the life of a beggar." The man said, "Because I never want to forget from where I came."

This is the story of the Jewish people: May we always remember, always recount, always relearn and experience, the lessons of the encounter with God that made us a people.

L'shanah ha-ba'ah b'Yerushalayim!

Vayikra: Leviticus 1:1 The Call

 Rabbi Mark H. Levin, DHL

Do you and a significant other ever have problems of communication? Torah provides an answer!

The third book of Torah, Leviticus, opens with God calling to Moses, "He called to Moses. Adonai spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting, saying ..."

Since in rabbnic theology God is never redundant, no extra words appear in the Torah. Every word serves a purpose. What is being conveyed by the Torah saying first that God called, and then Adonai spoke to Moses? Why two verbs for speech rather than one? What is added?

Rashi answers (Silbermann trans.) "All oral communications of the Lord to Moses, whether they are introduced by daber or by amar or by tsav [3 Hebrew words: speak, say and command] were preceded by a call (to prepare him for the forthcoming address). It is a way of expressing affection, the mode used by the ministering angels when addressing each other, as it is said, (Isaiah 6:3),'And one called to another (and said Holy Holy Holy is the Lord of Hosts).'

In the Talmud (Yoma 4b) we find, "A Tanna taught, 'Why did he precede calling before speaking?' The Torah teaches manners (derech eretz), that a person not say something to a friend unless he has [already] called him [gotten his attention.]"

Torah Temima explains this, "In order not to speak to him suddenly. And the reason for this is so that the listener can prepare himself to hear. This is why it says in Niddah 16b (Babylonian Talmud) that the Lord disdains those who enter a friend's house suddenly. And in Massechet Derech Eretz (chpt 5) we find, "We learn manners from HaMakom [God], that God stood at the opening to the Garden [of Eden] and called to Adam, as it is said, 'And Adonai called to the man and said, 'Where are you?' (ayeka)."  Torah Temima adds that if God announced himself to Moses before speaking, a man with whom God had a very close and warm relationship, then so should we.

In our word infested culture so much of what is spoken falls on deaf ears because we are unprepared to hear it. The Torah treats words as sacred. God creates the universe with words! Perhaps we should consider how to address words to those we love: getting their attention, speaking carefully, making sure that we are heard. When people are distracted by other sounds or activities (a television, a game, ear buds, music, work, etc.) they may hear sound but not the true words that are spoken, not the intent. Words convey meaning far beyond the literal sentence structure. There is tone, rapidity, and word choice. And that omits the non-verbal components of speech like eye contact and demeanor!

How much better would our most important relationships be if before speech began, we prepared ourselves to hear what is being said? God teaches us, at the very outset of Leviticus, by modeling with Moses: First get the listeners attention and let him/her prepare, and only then, speak.

Shabbat shalom.

Israel's Election
3/19/15

It's been a very difficult few weeks, culminating in a most disappointing election process in Israel. I have wanted to believe that the Jewish people are "A kingdom of priests and a holy people." (Ex. 19:6) Many antagonists to my personal aspirations for Israel have claimed as we read in Jeffrey Goldberg's article (see below) was said by Turkey's President, that Israel is a demon state. When PM Benjamin Netanyahu turned to overt demagoguery and racism to win this week's election I was crushed. "How could a Jew do that?" The Talmud says that when a Jew does not act with compassion we should suspect he is not Jewish, and that compassion is one of the 3 essential Jewish qualities. (Yevamot 79a)
It's one thing to accuse occupied Palestinians of being a fifth column. It's an entirely different thing to incite distrust and hatred of the 20% of Israel's population that is Arab and whose rights are enshrined in Israel's Declaration of Independence. Before Netanyahu declared elections we saw his attempt to declare Israel more Jewish than democratic. Now, as Aluf Ben pointed out in his article in Haaretz following the election, we see the PM turn to his core instinct, the fear mongering and hatred of Israel's Arab population.
Israel was for 2,000 years the aspiration of the Jewish people. A portion of that has been spiritual, but much of it was Israel as a haven against persecution, the messianic vision. Who ever believed that the persecuted would become the persecutors? Is the drive to win the election so deep, so critical, that we forsake the character of the Jewish people in order to triumph? Can we abandon Jewish ethical traditions in order to secure a Jewish state? Cannot the two exist simultaneously?
I certainly do not hold with those who demand a higher standard of Israel than of her neighbors. Egypt kills the Muslim Brotherhood opposition after brief trials. The Syrians kill internal dissent and the Saudis allow no opposition, even religious difference is banned. But is expecting democracy too high a standard for the Jewish people? Is refraining from hate filled demagoguery too much to ask of the PM of the Jewish State? I am so disillusioned and just plain sad.
I know that I do not live in Israel nor share their existential threat. Perhaps some would say I should just stay quiet. But the Talmud says, "Silence implies agreement," and I cannot leave anyone with the impression that this is fine with me. It is not. You cannot forsake the soul of the people in order to preserve the body of the people without changing the body into the new and altered vision of the soul. Suicide takes many forms. The PM has chosen to twist and destroy the Jewish people's character to win an election. It will have a long lasting and negative impact. One knows the character of a people from moments like these.
A debate early in Zionist history stated, "Now that the Jewish people are sovereigns, will they govern with justice?" In other words, will we persecute others as we have been persecuted, or will be triumph over our baser instincts to treat others as we would have wanted to be treated? If we do not, then Israelis will eventually turn away in disgust at what their nation has become. That, too, is an existential threat, one greater than a nuclear bomb. If Jews cannot rule with justice, how can we demand justice from the nations? If we become just like everyone else in order to preserve Jewish lives, how can we claim to be recipients of God's word?
I do not sympathize with those who castigate Israel and look with a blind eye upon the other nations, particularly Israel's neighbors, or Israel's history of being attacked. But this unprovoked hatred, "sinat hinam," in order to win an election destroys the character of our people.
I fear for the future. I fear for the soul of Judaism. I know our tradition is strong. But it must be strong enough to compel us to do what is right even in the face of injustice leveled against us, or it is not divine. Can Israel be as Isaiah predicted, "a light to the nations?" It was. I pray that it will yet be.

Parashat Vayakhel – Pikuday
March 13, 2015

This week's combined portions open with Moses congregating all of the people to hear about shabbat observance. In Rabbinic accounting, it's the day after Yom Kippur, and Moses has important stuff to share about God's desires for his people, having brought them out of slavery and to the mountain of God, Mt. Sinai.
Six days the people may work, but the seventh day is a qualitatively different substance. It's holy time. Even building the Tabernacle in the wilderness, clearly sacred work belonging to the realm of the holy, must cease. What's more, in celebration of that holy time, no one may burn a fire in any of their towns or homes. Burning constitutes a category of work, and all preparations for Shabbat must end before holy time begins.

That addition, prohibiting cooking at home for instance, or building a fire for warmth, becomes quite complex. For one, cooking is allowed on festivals, the first and last days of Pesah and Sukkot, as well as Shavuot. Festivals are also a kind of shabbat, a sacred time. For another, sacrifices continue, indeed additional sacrifices are commanded on Shabbat and festivals, and these burn all night. Why no fires in homes or villages?  Why the more stringent prohibition on the weekly shabbat and lesser prohibitions on festivals? Why fires on the altar of God but no fires for warmth or food?

Clearly we witness here a hierarchy of holiness! Shabbat is most holy! The Tabernacle may be built all week because it is holy space and can take place at any time. But sacred time happens only in specific moments, and therefore defers building in sacred space. Time supercedes space!
But sacred time also contains degrees. Festivals are slightly less sacred than Shabbat. Space is less sacred than time. And public fires on the God's altar celebrate connection to God and Shabbat, while home fires are exclusively for private use and are not holy.

Let's examine the spiritual insights here rather than attempting to debunk the arguments.

We have 3 distinctions: communal (fire on the altar) is preferred over personal (fires for family needs at home); sacred time is more important than sacred space (observing shabbat defers building the Tabernacle); and shabbat overrides festivals.
In our liberal Jewish culture, we have reversed each of these! We sacrifice communal interests for personal interests; we often prefer space over time (think large homes and the time and money to purchase and maintain them, and what else might we do with that time?); and we pay more attention to annual holy times like festivals than we do to weekly shabbat.

Perhaps most important about such texts as this is the process.  What do I mean?  I mean that we Jews examine everything, and that includes the hierarchy of spirituality in our lives. The fact that the Talmud and midrash ask these questions, that we are willing to say, "Am I prioritizing my life correctly with regard to God and the Jewish community," testifies to our constant concern for God's will and discovering the holiness in life. The process of examining the quality of our lives and considering the responses provided by Jewish debates is holy.  Study is holy in and of itself because it brings us closer to God.

Naturally, if we make all of our decisions based solely on personal outcomes without regard for community, both the community and the process will eventually vanish. The community invented and preserves the process of holy inquiry. How each of us participates in and adds to that process of study, inquiry (midrash), and personal decision making will determine the health of the future community from which we benefit today. Past generations have preserved both the place of individual inquiry and the communal body in which the process itself resides.

Shabbat shalom.

Parashat Kee Tissa: The Golden Calf

Moses seems to be overdue to return from his ascent onto Mt. Sinai.
A couple of the Egyptian magicians complain to Aharon that Moses is dead, and demand an idol.
Aaron says Moses is not dead and they just need to wait.
Moses has left Aaron, the priest, and Hur, Moses’ assistant prophet in charge in his absence. Hur gets angry with the rebels and reproves them, saying that they have forgotten all the wonders and miracles God did for them. The rebels slaughter Hur right in front of Aaron.

Aaron understands the situation now and becomes frightened. What is he frightened about? You might think he is scared for his own safety. After all, the rebels have just killed Hur.
But according to the Rabbis he is scared for the Israelites. The crime of murder cannot be repented. A possible idol can be repented, and so Aaron moves to delay their decision as long as he can, and to prevent further loss of life.

First he demands that the people turn over their jewelry, knowing that the women understand how much God has done for them and would never turn their jewelry over to make an idol. This delays the situation, but still Moses does not appear.

Aaron threw the gold into the fire, and the Egyptian magicians did their magic and out came the golden calf. They all started to chant, “This is your god O Israel.”

They asked Aaron to build an altar with him, and he insisted on building it himself, hoping that Moses would return. But Moses did not. Then the rebels and all the people sat to eat and drink and finally rose to dancing and debauchery. What had begun with the simple statement that Moses was late returning had declined into a murder and complete abandon to self indulgence.

Things that begin simply sometimes end disastrously. What does it matter if the Chairman of the GOP happens to mention to a couple of people that his political opponent is Jewish? So what if that's wrong. It's an honest mistake, right? Or at least there's plausible deniability as to his use of an anti-Semitic ploy to derail his opponents political ambitions.

Except that in this case bigotry killed.

And it has now been definitely revealed that anti-Semitism is alive and well in Missouri, and that the GOP is willing to take political advantage of that fact.

When victims are silent, they prove two things: their victimhood and their weakness. We could let this go. There will not be any more anti-Semitism tomorrow than there was yesterday. But if we let it go, tomorrow anti-Semites will be more assured that their bigotry has no political cost, and is in fact acceptable to the multitude.

Senator Danforth said this week, in his eulogy for his friend, Tom Schweich, that anti-Semitism is never acceptable. He also put the lie to John Hancock's excuse.

Now the question: will the Jewish community stay silent as the GOP hopes and let this blow over? Will we think the outcome will be just fine if we keep our heads in the sand and don't mention anything? Or will Jewish Republicans in Missouri demand the ouster of the man who plotted to exploit hatred of Jews for his own political advantage?

I pray that the Jewish community protests, the Republicans loudest, and that John Hancock be ousted from his position and told not to show up at Republican gatherings for the next few years. Nothing less will repudiate his hateful bigotry.

On Being Surrounded by Murder

 In considering the banality of killing, I wonder if the constant murders all around the country have caused an insensitivity to life. Jewish law demands the opposite: that we be conscious even of how we take an animal's life for food, because callousness towards any sentient being potentially leads to callousness to all life. But, as Timothy Kudo points out in How We Learned To Kill, (http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/01/opinion/sunday/how-we-learned-to-kill.html?_r=0)  deciding who lives and who dies becomes very confusing because of an innate sense of the supreme importance of life. We recoil at being accountable for the unjust death of another human being. I surmise that for many people this leads to an emotional withdrawal from the very complicated question of whether, as a result of the many murders surrounding us and listed daily in the news, we become increasingly insensitive to the pain of those who suffer from the results of murder. Do we feel, as a society and as individuals, responsible for the deaths that are the inevitable consequence of our permissive gun laws? If the answer is yes, then what is the emotional result on us of our partial culpability for those deaths? Clearly, we are not doing everything necessary or possible to reduce death by guns. Is that, in part, the result of confusion both about being surrounded by death and our answerability for the sacred nature of life?