Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Parasha Tazria

Be Mindful and Multiply
Recently I met in my office with a young Jewish couple who were trying to find a rabbi to marry them this New Years Eve.  After getting to know one another, they asked me to perform the ceremony, and I readily agreed.  They then asked me a question.  What are your non-negotiables?  Non-negotiables, I asked, what did that mean?  They told me that other rabbis they had met with had "non-negotiable" demands from the couple in order to perform the marriage.  One rabbi insisted wanted them to meet with him for pre-marital counseling over a series of sessions.  Another wanted them to undergo psychological testing for marriage readiness.  A third insisted they see a financial advisor before the wedding.  Without thinking much about it, I told them I had no "non-negotiables".  This couple, in their early thirties, had been dating for ten years and living together for five.  They were pretty experienced as a couple.  Then I realized that I did have one "non-negotiable".  Before I performed the ceremony, I said, I wanted them to get screened for Jewish Genetic Disorders. 

In fact, genetic screening should be a routine part of planning a wedding for any two Jews of Ashkenazi descent who intend to have a family.  At least one in five individuals in the Ashkenazi Jewish population is a carrier for a "Jewish" genetic disorder.  We are all familiar with Tay-Sachs disease, but due to genetic counseling it has been nearly eradicated in the Jewish community. Testing for Tay Sachs disease began in 1971. Up until ten years ago, we were able to test for only four disorders.  Today, there are eighteen genetic disorders for which there is testing available.

By now you may be wondering why I am speaking about this on this Shabbat.  This week's parasha, Tazria, deals primarily with a skin affliction called Tzara'at in Hebrew. This is commonly translated as "leprosy".  The rabbis felt that one could prevent Taara'at and other afflictions either by abstaining from spiritual trespasses, like gossip, or by looking after our health and the health of our families.  In the case of Jewish genetic disorders, knowledge is the key to prevention, and we are all capable of educating those who we care for the most.

What if a couple undergoes genetic testing, and finds out that they are both carriers of one of these eighteen genetic diseases?  How does this knowledge help them?  Do they now need to give up the dream of having their own biological children? 

If a both individuals in a couple are found to be carriers of a genetic disease, there is a one in four chance that a child born to them will actually have the disease.  For some diseases, like Tay-Sachs and Nieman-Pick, there is no treatment and those affected by the disease die at a very young age. With others, like Gaucher Disease, there is effective treatment and a person can live a normal life span.  For cystic fibrosis, which can be tested for and which occurs in the Jewish population at the same frequency as in the general Caucasian population, there is treatment to mitigate symptoms, but the median life span is 37 years old.

Up until the early 1990s, if a couple discovered they were both carriers of a recessive gene for a Jewish genetic disease, they had two choices.  They could decide not to reproduce, and adopt if they wished to have a family.  Or, they could roll the dice and become pregnant.  There could be pre-natal testing, and, if the fetus was found to have the disease, a decision could be made to terminate the pregnancy at that time.  Remember, even if both parents are carriers of the gene for the disease, there is a 75% chance the fetus will not carry both genes that cause the disease to express itself, and the child will never have the disease. Still, termination of a pregnancy is no easy matter for the other 25% of the time, no matter what the reason. 

In the early 1990s, a new development occurred, which I just learned about through attending a conference for rabbis on Jewish Genetic disorders a few weeks ago.  I knew, of course, about in-vitro fertilization, where an egg can be fertilized outside of the womb and implanted as an embryo. I did not know that the embryo can be tested for genetic diseases before it is implanted.  Now, doctors can choose to implant only those embryos that do not have a copy of the gene that would lead to disease.  This eliminates the need to contemplate termination of the pregnancy, because one knows beforehand that the embryo or fetus that was implanted does not have the potential to carry the disease.

Genetic screening can be expensive.  A full panel of tests can cost over $3000.  Fortunately the Chicago Center for Jewish Genetic Disorders sponsors a yearly dinner and educational program that costs $180 with genetic screening included.  That is on June 12th at Congregation Beth Shalom in Northbrook.  Israel, by the way, was the first country to offer free genetic testing and counseling to all couples. Israeli scientists have been in the forefront of research on genetic disease.

As we pursue the mitzvah of "be fruitful and multiply" it is crucial that we remember the role of genetic testing and counseling in helping couples make informed decisions about their family's future.  Knowledge is indeed power.  Please do your part to get the word out so that these preventable diseases can indeed be prevented.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph                                                                                                                                              

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Parasha Shemini

             Kashrut -- The Hidden Wisdom of the Torah
     
            The first ten chapters of Leviticus deal with the laws specific to the Sanctuary. The remainder of Leviticus deals with what might be termed the Laws of Daily Life. In the eyes of the Torah, nothing human is secular. G-d's laws embrace the totality of our existence.  There is no aspect of our lives, no part of our days, that is "carved out" from the potential to be holy.

            Without attempting to justify or elaborate, the Torah gives a lengthy list of foods which are Kosher and those which are not. Since very early in our history, Kashrut laws have been at the very center of our heritage.  The Rabbis classified these laws as "Hukim", laws that had to be obeyed although they transcend human understanding. This did not, however, inhibit the desire to understand just what might be the reasons that G-d commanded these laws. One such speculation is found in the medieval work Sefer Ha Chinuch.  "G-d knows that in all foods prohibited to the chosen people, elements injurious to the body are found. For this reason, G-d removed us from them so that the souls can do their function." 

            The problem with such a viewpoint is that it implies that G-d only cares about the Jews.  If these foods are injurious to the health of the individual, why did G-d only forbid them to the Jewish people?  Isn't G-d the Creator of All, and doesn't G-d care about all of His creatures? 

            Others put forth the opinion that the dietary laws are compensation for unsanitary conditions that existed at the time the Torah was given.   If the Jews of the Torah had invented refrigerators, goes this theory, there would have been no need for Kashrut laws.  As if you needed a law to tell you not to eat spoiled meat! 

            Maimonides puts forth another reason for the laws of kashrus. "The Dietary Laws train us in the mastery over our appetites; they train us to restrain the growth of our desire and the tendency to consider the pleasure of eating and drinking as the purpose of man's existence."  This reason is related to the health issue.  If we do not exercise restraint in eating, obesity and the resulting diabetes, heart problems, and other health problems are more likely to affect our lives. From a psychological perspective, adherence to dietary laws allows one to experience self-mastery and self-control.  In a society where we are encouraged to consume as much as we can, isn't voluntarily submitting to restrictions an attractive quality? 

There are other reasons we might choose to follow the Jewish dietary laws. We may do so out of an affirmation of our Jewish identity.  We may do so as a reminder that humankind should not have total domination over other creatures. Keeping kosher also may make us more aware of what we are eating, helping us to be more mindful of each moment and experience in our lives. Kosher slaughter rituals also reinforce the sanctity of life, even as we are taking it. Death, even of an animal, should not be taken lightly.

Rabbi Shlomo Riskin understands our dietary laws to have a different purpose. He writes that "dietary laws are intended to teach us compassion and lead us gently into vegetarianism." The Biblical ideal, according to this idea, is vegetarianism. Adam and Eve are given "every seed-bearing plant and every tree with fruit" for food, but not animals. According to the Bible, only after Noah did G-d permit meat to the human being.  The book of Leviticus limits the consumption of meat to the precincts of the Tabernacle. That's right – an animal could only be slaughtered and eaten in the context of worship. Only in the book of Deuteronomy does the Torah make a concession – if you are living in the Land of Israel, and live far from the Temple, is one is allowed to slaughter and eat meat on one's own, outside of the context of Temple worship.

Perhaps the Torah has the right idea – that meat consumption should be allowed, but limited. It has been argued that our current rate of meat consumption is contributing to the degradation of our environment.  Livestock production is the second greatest source of greenhouse gases, after petroleum production. Twenty percent of greenhouse gasses, which contribute to global warming, come from this source. From 1950 to 2000, the world's population doubled, but our livestock population increased five-fold. Ten billion animals are killed in the United States each year to feed us. To maintain a healthy diet, experts recommend that individuals eat no more than one half a pound of meat a week. Americans eat an average of half a pound of meat per day!   

Is there some compromise one can make between being a vegetarian for those of us who do not want to give up meat?  Aaron Potek, a New York City rabbinical student, has a website called mooshy.org.  MOOSHY, which stands for "Meat On Only Shabbat, Happy Occasions, and Yomtov", is an organization which advocates for limiting meat consumption to special days in the Jewish calendar in order to promote Jewish values and conscious eating. In fact, Maimonides, in the 12th century, wrote that it was enough for a healthy person to eat meat once a week on Friday night.  Maimonides, however, did not have a web site, and so you probably never heard of this idea.  You can, however, now go to www.mooshy.org and read about it now.  On this Earth Day we can improve our own health and the health of Planet Earth by paying attention the eternal wisdom of the Torah.

Shabbat Shalom



--
Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph
Congregation Beth Shalom
Naperville, Illinois

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Passover 5772

The Four Freedoms
Passover is the holiday of storytelling par-excellence.  We are told four times in the Torah that we must tell our children the story of Passover.  We have developed an elaborate ritual, the Seder, to fulfill this commandment, and a book, the Haggadah, literally, "The Telling" to teach our children the story.  But, for my money, the Haggadah does a poor job of telling the story.  I know we Jews have been using it for almost two thousand years, but what kind of way is this to tell a story?  We do not mention Moses in the traditional Haggadah.  But Moses is the central person in the entire story of the Exodus!  Could someone teach about the Civil War, without mentioning Abraham Lincoln?  Could someone teach about the American Revolution without telling about George Washington?  But the Haggadah tells the story of Passover, for hours upon hours, without once mentioning Moses! 

Then there are the four questions.  The youngest child asks the four questions – and then we don't answer them.  Instead, we recite a paragraph proclaiming it is our duty to tell the story of Passover.  Do we then tell the story of Passover?  No, next we tell the story about five rabbis who once had a Seder during Roman times.  After that, we tell the story of four different kinds of children.  We immediately move on to describe how Abraham came from a family of idol worshipers. We then begin a completely different story, one in which Laban tried to harm Jacob.  By this time, one could not blame the participant in the Seder for being totally confused!

Then there are the songs – I love the songs.  But tell me – what does "Who knows one, I know one" have to do with Passover?  One of my favorite songs, "Adir Hu" has seemingly nothing to do with Passover. It a song in praise of G-d and a plea that the Temple in Jerusalem should be speedily rebuilt in our day!  The song where the dog bites the cat that eats the goat that my father bought… what does that have to do with Passover?  The miracle of Passover seems to be that with such a disjointed way of telling the story, and with songs that are irrelevant to the occasion, we actually have managed to transmit the story of Passover through the ages to our children. 

If the Haggadah is not very good story telling, then what is it?  I would like to suggest that the Haggadah is very good at teaching us about freedom.  In January, 1941, with war in Europe and Japan threatening from the Far East, President Franklin Roosevelt outlined the four freedoms that he said were fundamental to a free society. Those four freedoms were freedom from want, freedom of speech and expression, freedom from fear and freedom of worship.  I think our Seder teaches about these very freedoms that President Roosevelt outlined very, very well.

How does the Seder begin?  Ha Lachma Anya – before it has anything to say about freedom, it begins by addressing hunger and need.  "Let all who are hungry come and eat".  It has its priorities correct. If one is hungry, if one is in need, there can be no freedom.  Before we can even talk about freedom, those who are hungry need to be provided for.  Freedom from want, however, is not enough.  A society must provide opportunities to its members in order for people to be truly free.  As Mordechai Kaplan once wrote, "Freedom without opportunity is like appetite without food." 

Next in our Seder we have the four questions. This too, teaches us about freedom. Without freedom of speech, without the freedom to ask questions of those who are in authority, there is no freedom.  So we can ask questions, like – How is it that a man in Florida can shoot and kill another man who is not armed, and not be arrested by the police or charged with a crime?  We can ask – does it have to do with the fact that the perpetrator was white and the victim was black?  We can ask – Why was there apparently no attempt to contact the loved ones of the victim through his cell phone, which was still on his body when it was taken to the morgue?  Asking questions – until we get answers – can be, as we saw this week, very effective.

Next, we must have Freedom from Fear.  "Come let us learn," says our Haggadah, "What Laban the Aramaen tried to do with our father Jacob.  While Pharaoh decreed only against the males, Laban tried to uproot us all."  In order to be free, one must live in peace and in security.  The killing of three Jewish schoolchildren and a rabbi in France several weeks ago reminds us anew of the hatred that some in this world harbor toward our people.  Indeed, with the threat of nuclear proliferation in North Korea and Iran, none of us can say yet that we are truly free.

Finally, what is the ultimate goal of the exodus from Egypt? What reason does Moses give to Pharaoh over and over to let the Jewish people go? It is so that they could worship G-d in their own way.  The culmination of the Exodus from Egypt is the revelation of Mt. Sinai and the covenant that is established between the Jewish people and G-d.  This story of the search for religious freedom was the inspiration for the Puritans to come to this country in 1620. The Puritans identified themselves with the ancient Hebrews and sought to establish a New Israel on the shores of this continent, where they could find freedom from the religious despotism of England.  Freedom of worship is that fourth freedom that Roosevelt spoke about.

No, the Haggadah may not be very good at actually TELLING the story of Passover. I imagine a person sitting down to a Seder for the first time, without having read the biblical account of the Passover, would get up from the Seder feeling very confused about what happened.  At the same time, that person would have learned a great deal about freedom – about freedom from want and hunger, freedom to question, freedom to live without fear, and freedom for each person to worship as they want – the freedoms that we all aspire to if we are truly to live free.

Hag Sameach and Shabbat Shalom 

 Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph

Friday, March 23, 2012

Parasha VaYikra

Making Mistakes

Our parasha for this week, Vayikra, deals with the types of sacrifices that may be brought to the Tabernacle.  The first three sacrifices are the olah offering, the meal offering and the peace offering. These are voluntary offerings, brought by an individual who wants to elevate themselves spiritually.  The next offering discussed is called the Chatat, or Sin Offering. This sacrifice is not a voluntary sacrifice. Rather, it is to be brought by someone who has made an unintentional mistake, and needs to atone for it.  Now, some people would like to skip these chapters of Leviticus entirely, feeling that they have little relevance to life today.  In fact, one of my colleagues once had a pulpit in a congregation where they read the Two Books of Moses – they would begin in Genesis and read through the Book of Exodus in one year, and then return to Genesis again!  But, I think we can learn a great deal by reading and studying the Book of Leviticus.

One thing we learn from this chapter about sacrifices for unintentional mistakes is that in the Biblical view, everyone has the potential to make a mistake.  The section starts out describing the sacrifice a priest must make for an unintentional mistake.  It then describes the ritual for an entire community that makes a mistake. Then, it goes on to describe the ritual should a chieftain should make a mistake.  Finally, it describes what sacrifice a common person should bring if they unwittingly make a mistake.  No matter if one is a holy religious figure, a political figure, or a member of the general populace, the Torah reminds us that anyone, even an entire community, is capable of making a mistake. Just as important is the fact that mistakes can be forgiven. Honest mistakes are a part of life.

I read about an experiment recently that demonstrated how averse to making mistakes we are. A psychologist divided a class of fifth graders into two groups, and gave them a test.  One group was told they did really well on the test, and were praised for being "very smart".  The other group was told they did poorly on a test, but were told they "tried really hard."  Next, they were given a choice of two tasks. One task was very simple to accomplish, and the other much more difficult.  Which group of the two, do you think, tended to choose the more difficult task – the one that was told they did well and was praised for being "very smart" or the one that was told they did poorly but "tried really hard"?

Ninety percent of the children who were told they "tried really hard" chose the more difficult task, but only half of the children praised for being "very smart" chose the more difficult task.  The authors hypothesized that children in the "very smart" group were less willing to risk their reputation by failing in the more difficult task.  They played it safe because they did not want to make mistakes, which perhaps could have impacted their self esteem, or, how they thought they looked in the eyes of the experimenter.  They did not want to disappoint themselves, or the people who were important to them. In trying to avoid mistakes, they stayed away from the riskier, more challenging but perhaps more rewarding venture. 

This experiment helped me understand two of my best friends in high school. One was labeled "a genius" when he was in the sixth grade, based on his high IQ scores. We all knew he was "a genius" because his mother bragged about it to everyone. Another was a friend who was in our group, but never was in advanced classes.  He made the honor roll on occasion, and missed it other times.  We all knew he was persistent and a hard worker, but far from a star student.  My "genius" friend had high SAT scores and got into an elite university. My other friend had average SAT scores and went to a state college.  My genius friend dropped out of college because it wasn't challenging enough for him, he said. He has worked in the same low level job for the past 30 years, still hoping to write the Great American Novel that will make his name. Perhaps he will, who knows!  My other friend went to law school and occupies a corner office at a prestigious law firm in New York City.

I suspect that my "genius" friend found college quite challenging and could not tolerate the idea that he was making mistakes in exams and papers for the first time in his life.  He had always gotten perfect scores without trying very hard at all.  My other friend made mistakes all of the time, but was able to learn from them and progress in his life.  He learned that if one was not very good at something, one could get better.  He knew that making mistakes was not the end of the world.  People didn't expect him to light the world on fire, and that gave him a certain amount of freedom to try and fail and try again.

The Russian composer Igor Stravinsky once said, "I have learned throughout my life as a composer chiefly through my mistakes and pursuits of false assumptions, not by my exposure to founts of wisdom and knowledge."  We need not fear making mistakes – as long, that is, as we can recognize them, atone for them, and don't keep making the same mistake over and over. Too many people refuse to recognize that they have made a mistake, and, out of stubborn pride, compound their mistake and make it worse.

As the Torah teaches us by giving so many verses over to the subject of atonement for unwitting mistakes, mistakes are an ever-present part of our lives.  Without taking the risk to make a mistake, we would all stay in the exact same place in our lives, never venturing beyond our comfort level, never moving beyond what we had already mastered, never innovating, always being stuck in what we know works.  Every mistake has a blessing hidden inside of it. The question is – can we recognize the mistake, and seize the blessing?

Shabbat Shalom

 

 

 

 

 

 



--
Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph
Congregation Beth Shalom
Naperville, Illinois

Friday, March 16, 2012

Parasha Vayakhel-Pekudai

 What is our "Fair Share" ?
This week in our Torah reading we come to the conclusion of the Book of Exodus and the conclusion of the account of the building of the Mishkan, or Tabernacle in English, the portable sanctuary that the Israelites built in the desert.  We have been reading about this for many weeks now in our Shabbat morning services. In the early weeks we read of the plans that G-d gives Moses for the Mishkan, for its furnishings, and for the dress for the priests who will minister in the Tabernacle.  These past weeks we read about the actual building of the Tablernacle. In comparing the two – the architectural and design plans and the carrying out of those plans, we discover that the builders of the Tabernacle carried out those plans exactly!

We also learn something about the people who actually work on the construction of all of this. A man named Bezalel is in charge of the overall work, along with another man named Oholiab, who seems to be second in command of the project.  The Torah tells us that G-d has endowed them with wisdom and insight to carry out all that G-d has commanded.  Anyone among the people who is inspired to work on the construction is allowed to do so, under their supervision. The Torah tells us that all of the Israelites contribute to the building of the Tabernacle. Then the Torah immediately adds, "They – [the laborers] - continued to bring voluntary gifts each morning."

The question is -- why does the Torah single out the gifts of the laborers? Aren't they included when the Torah tells us that all of the Israelites contributed to the building of the Tabernacle?  Rabbi Shlomo Kluger, one of the leading European Torah scholars of the 19th century, explains this with a story:

"The daughter of the Rebbe Zusha was engaged. The Rebbe's wife, mother of the bride, went to the seamstress to order a beautiful gown for her daughter. Four or five weeks later, the Rebbetzin went back to the seamstress to pick up the gown for the bride. However, she returned home without the gown. The Rebbe asked her what happened. She related that she in fact picked up the gown but that as she was leaving the store, she noticed that the seamstress was crying.

 "The Rebbetzin inquired why she was crying and the seamstress told her 'It is because I also have a daughter who is a Bride. I wish I could afford such a gown for my own daughter.' The Rebbetzin explained to her husband, 'I told her on the spot -- You keep the gown!' Reb Zusha was overjoyed that his wife fulfilled the mitzvah of providing for the needs of a poor bride in such a noble fashion.

 "But then he asked his Rebbetzin, 'Did you pay her for the gown?' Reb Zusha's wife was incredulous at the question. 'What do you mean did I pay her for the gown? I gave her the gown! Must I pay her for the gown on top of that as well?'

 "'Indeed you must!' Reb Zusha told his wife.  'After all, she did work for you for five weeks, so you must pay her for the gown.' The Rebbetzin told her husband that he was right and she returned and paid the seamstress for the gown that she had just 'given' her."

Just like the Rebbetizin, the workers on the Mishkan could have said to Moses, "What do you mean I should give a contribution toward the building of the Tabernacle?  I am working on it – Must I contribute to the Tabernacle on top of that?" Therefore, the Torah goes out of its way to make certain we understand that the workers themselves contributed to the building of the Tabernacle, OVER and ABOVE their contribution of labor.  We have many fine examples of that ethos in our congregation, people who contribute their time, energy, and labor while also contributing financially to the synagogue.  Such was the Jewish way in the time of Moses – and so it is today.

Shabbat Shalom



--
Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph
Congregation Beth Shalom
Naperville, Illinois

Friday, March 9, 2012

Parasha Ki Tissah


And oftentimes excusing of a fault
Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.
~William Shakespeare
 
In this week's Parasha, Ki Tissa, the Israelites, under the guidance of Aaron, build a golden calf.  When confronted by Moses as to how he could allow the people to engage in such behavior, Aaron makes… excuses.  First, he blames the people themselves. "You know," he tells Moses, "that this people, they are bent on evil."  Then Aaron seems to evade responsibility: "I said to them, 'Who has gold?' They removed it and gave it to me." Finally, he claims that he did not take an active role in creating the Golden Calf – "I threw it into the fire, and this calf emerged!"  One commentator[1] notes that in claiming he did not actively fashion the golden calf Aaron implies divine approval!   Would it not have been better had he owned up to the part that he in fact played in the incident?

 

Perhaps Aaron would have been better served by saying something like this:

 

I will not put myself into a position where I have to defend myself, to state my side of the story. There's no side. There's only one side, which is the lack of judgment on my part. That's really all I have to say. I have no excuse….. I intend to mend the bridges that I've burned and help rebuild the bridge if I need to all by myself.  

 

These were, in fact, the very words Steve Smith, the great wide receiver of the Carolina Panthers, used in addressing a fight he got into with a teammate at a routine practice session. Smith broke the teammate's nose and was suspended for two games.[2] 

 

We human beings tend to go easy on ourselves. We rationalize our actions and behaviors to put them in the best possible light. We more easily shift the blame to others instead of squarely facing ourselves. That is why Steve Smith's words are so refreshing, especially for a professional athlete. We read about so many great athletes who are self centered and evade responsibility whenever they could. (Think Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens ……) Here is an athlete who says, "I did it and there are no excuses for my behavior. I caused damage to myself and to my relationships with others, and I now have some work to do to repair that damage."

 

The Modern Hebrew poet Judah Leib Gordon wrote, "We have a bat's eye for our own faults, and an eagle's eye for the faults of others."  Just as we can be too easy judging ourselves, we can be too harsh in our judgment of others. Perhaps this is why our sages teach in Pirke Avot, "Judge everyone l'khaf zekhut – in the scale of merit."   With respect to Aaron, our sages teach by example. In his commentary on the incident of the Golden Calf, Rashi tries to put Aaron's behavior in the best possible light by delving into the possible hidden motivations for Aaron's behavior.

 

In our own lives, as well, we should cultivate a charitable disposition toward judging the behavior of others.  Rabbi Jack Riemer notes that often we make "judgments without knowing enough facts, or without the sympathy and the empathy that we ought to show toward other human beings."[3]

 

May we learn to judge others as kindly and compassionately as we judge ourselves.


 



[1] Etz Hayim Torah and Commentary,  New York, The Rabbinical Assembly p. 534 (note)

[2] John Kador, Effective Apology San Francisco, Berrett-Koehler, 2009  p.75

[3] Joseph Telushkin, You Shall Be Holy, Volume 1 New York, Bell Tower, p. 74


--
Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph
Congregation Beth Shalom
Naperville, Illinois

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Parasha Terumah

Chim-Chim-Cherubim

Our Torah portion for this week is Terumah.  Moses is asked by G-d to instruct the people to bring gifts and contributions from which a place of worship, called a Mishkan, or Tabernacle, will be built. In this parasha G-d also reveals the design of the mishkan, the ark, its furnishings and its vessels, and the priests' clothing.  Central to the Tabernacle was the ark, in which were kept the tablets of the Ten Commandments.  Atop the ark were to be figures called "cherubim".  These were creatures fashioned with the faces of children and the wings of birds.  Their faces were to look downward, toward the ark, and they were to face one another.  They were to be made of solid gold and sculpted out of one block of gold.  When G-d spoke to Moses, G-d's voice would emerge from between the two Cherubim which sat at each end of the cover of the Ark. Interesting choice for an adornment on the ark, don't you think?

It certainly challenges us to consider the symbolism of such an adornment. Perhaps it can be a reminder of the values that we imbue in our own children, a subject worthy of thought on a night of a baby-naming!  The cherubim's wings that are ascending to heaven might represent the ambitions that we have for our children, and that someday they will have for themselves.  The fact that their faces are turned down toward the Ten Commandments that sit within the ark could mean that no matter how high they may fly in the world, they must never lose sight of what grounds their existence, what makes their ambitions worthy of achievement and that is, the words of Torah.  No matter how high they may fly, may our children never lose our connection to G-d, or to the Jewish people.  Or perhaps, as someone else has suggested, the faces of the children look down toward the ark and toward one another, to teach that we must put the wisdom of the Torah to use in interacting with one another.  When our children face one another with love and with tenderness and with caring for one another, they make us feel golden.  Rabbi Shlomo Kruger of the 19th century taught that the cherubim were made of gold to remind us that we should never compromise on the quality of education that we give to our children. Even if that should cost us much gold, we should be happy to do spend it, for these are our children. This especially applies to Jewish education.  It is a financial sacrifice to be a member of a synagogue, to give your child a proper Jewish education, to send them to a Jewish summer camp, to send them on a trip to Israel. 

The synagogue is the heir to the Mishkan, the Tabernacle. Like the Tabernacle of old, the synagogue is the place where Jews most often seek out G-d.  G-d speaks to us not from between the cherubim, but through study, through prayer, and through communal gatherings.  Just as the wings of the Cherubim stretch upward we must aspire to raise ourselves to a higher spiritual level.  Just as their faces are turned toward each other we can, through our communal life, help one another reach those higher spiritual levels.  Through our voluntary gifts of money, time, and other resources, we, like our ancestors in Biblical times, bring the realm of the holy into our lives and the lives of our children.  When we support our synagogue, we strengthen the Jewish people even as we strengthen ourselves as Jews.