Parasha Shemini (April 5, 2013)

The Spectrum of Kashrut

As many of you are aware, I have been leading a conversion class this year. That course will conclude its twentieth and final session on April 25. On May 8, members of that group and their families will travel to Wilmette where they will go before a Bet Din and immerse themselves in the mikvah. Prior to the mikvah the men in the group will make a side visit to a mohel to draw a drop of blood. At services on Friday night, May 10, we will welcome our newest Jewish members into the congregation. I hope you will all be there to welcome them as well.

One of the most challenging aspects of teaching this group, for me, is how to guide them in terms of following Jewish dietary laws. In Orthodox circles, the expectation of the convert is that he or she will keep a strictly kosher kitchen and only eat out at kosher restaurants. In Conservative circles, the expectation would be that the convert would keep a kosher kitchen and only eat kosher fish in restaurants. These are non-negotiable requirements of the Jew, according to these movements. After all, does not G-d command adherence to dietary laws in our parasha this week? But how do the Reform and Reconstructionist rabbis guide their converts? What guidance do I, a rabbi from a pluralistic, unaffiliated seminary give to my students of a pluralistic, unaffiliated synagogue?

Reform Judaism, at its inception in the United States, was initially indifferent or even hostile to traditionally dietary laws. The insistence on observance of dietary laws, according to this view was a relic of the past. It was alienating modern Jews from their religion and erecting barriers between Jews and their non-Jewish neighbors. One Reform rabbi, speaking on a panel on the subject at a rabbinic convention, joked that her synagogue in New Orleans was "glatt treyf" when she was growing up. Living in New Orleans, a synagogue meal was not really complete without shellfish! This has changed in our times. Now, Reform Judaism encourages both its congregations and its adherents to study the dietary laws and consider whether in adopting some or all of them as a community or as individuals it would add kedushah, sanctity, to their homes and to their lives.

The history of kashrut in Reconstructionist Judaism is different. Mordechai Kaplan, the founder of Reconstructionist Judaism, was punctilious in his observance of Jewish law, including kashrut.  But Reconstructionist Jews do not follow Kashrut for the same reason as Conservative or Orthodox Jews. Reconstructionist Jews do not believe that G-d commanded us to follow specific dietary laws. Reconstructionist Jews believe that dietary laws are folk customs, developed by the Jewish people as a way of expressing holiness and commitment to the Divine.  In other words the laws of keeping kosher don't come from G-d, despite the fact that their origins are depicted that way in this week's Torah portion. According to this view, they developed from the Jewish people as a cultural expression of their religious life. Therefore, Reconstructionist Jews do not feel bound to a specific kosher regimen. Individuals and communities develop their own kosher guidelines free from the imperatives of a Divine Commander and in accordance with their own will and conscience.

So, where does that leave us? I recently came upon an unsigned article that I had saved entitled "Steps up the Ladder of Commitment". I do not like the idea of a "ladder" as it implies a hierarchy, one step being "higher" spiritually than another. I think we should think of it as a spectrum of choice. Let me do a survey. If you were to advise someone who was interested in observing one, basic, important Jewish dietary law, what would be the very first thing you would advise them to do?

Abstain from pork products, right?  That's interesting, because the rabbis of ancient times thought of the pig as the worst of animals. The Torah portion for this week states that only if an animal has a cloven hoof and chews its cud is it a kosher animal. There is only one animal that has a cloven hoof but does not chew its cud, and that is the pig. So, they tell a story. The pig lies on its back and shows its hooves, and says, "You see, look how kosher I am." But it hides the fact that it does not chew its cud. It claims it is kosher when it really is not. For this deception, the pig is especially reviled in Jewish life.

So, abstention from pork products may be the first place on the kosher spectrum. The next spot might be occupied by those who also abstain from shellfish. This could even mean abstaining from shellfish at home, but not in restaurants. The third place on the spectrum might be separating milk from meat. The rabbis derived this rule from the commandment in the Torah that we should not boil a kid in its mother's milk. To cook the offspring of an animal in the very milk of its own mother was considered ethically insensitive. So, not eating milk and meat together, and waiting a specific period of time after eating meat to have a dairy product, is a way of sensitizing ourselves ethically to the taking of a life for food.

Another place on the spectrum of kashrut is to look for Kosher labels on food products. These Kosher symbols are called "hekshers".  These products are not difficult to find in your local supermarket – there are 125,000 kosher products in American markets today.

If you have decided to abstain from pork products, you are probably only eating meat and poultry from animals that are biblically permitted. An adjacent spot on the spectrum would then be to eat only kosher meats. For meats to be kosher, they must be ritually slaughtered and salted to remove the remaining blood. When I was growing up my mother had to go to the kosher butcher shop to buy kosher meats. Then she had to salt them herself. Today, one could go to Trader Joes here in Naperville and get fresh packaged certified a kosher meat, pre-salted and ready to pop in the oven.

Another place on the spectrum would be to have a kosher kitchen in your home. For this you would have to have two sets of dishes, one for dairy and one for meat. You would need two sets of silverware, and two sets of pots and pans.

Want to skip the hassle? You and your family could become vegetarians! There are rabbis who believe that the dietary laws of the Torah are mean to lead us gently into the practice of vegetarianism.

Following Jewish dietary laws has been an integral part of Jewish identity since Biblical times. In modern times, many Jews have found these laws inconvenient or unnecessarily restricting. I think, as Jews, we have some obligation to explore these laws and whether and to what extent they can add sanctity to our lives. These laws and customs have served our people well for many years, and we may find meaning in them as well.

 

 

 

 

 

Hol Ha-Moed Pesah

Freedom to .....

This is the season of freedom. This week, hundreds of thousands of college students will unloosen the fetters of the chains of their college classes and head for the warm climates of Florida, Texas and Mexico for the annual rite of "Spring Break". These young people are continuing a cultural tradition that began several thousand years ago in ancient Greece, when a festival called "Anthestreria" began to become popular with young people. This festival was dedicated to Dionysius, the god of wine. For three days young people of ancient Greece would dance, sing and deck themselves with flowers. Young men would compete to see who could drain a cup of wine the fastest. As one writer put it, their goals was to achieve "an altered consciousness, open to the irrational calls of the god of earthly pleasures." They were celebrating the re-awakening of spring and the season of fertility.  In our country, Fort Lauderdale became the center of Spring Break activity. Yet by 1985, the combination of uncontrolled drinking, drug use, sexually risky behaviors and increased crime led Fort Lauderdale to institute laws that pulled the welcome mat from the entrance to that city to college students during Spring Break. Since, other cities in Florida have welcomed the revelers.

It is also, for us, the season of Passover. Interestingly, the drinking of wine plays an important role in Passover as well. The goal of this drinking, however, is not to achieve an "altered state of consciousness" so we can indulge ourselves.  It is quite the opposite – it is to help to sanctify the moment and imbue it with spiritual significance. We drink the four cups of wine because of the four expressions of redemption that are used in the Torah for the Exodus in Egypt --  I will bring you out from Egypt; I will save you from their oppression; I will redeem you with wonders; I will take you for me as a people. The verse then concludes, "And you shall know that I am the Lord your G-d….."

These concluding words make the point that freedom was not simply the removal of suffering, the loosening of the fetters of bondage. Freedom points to a higher purpose. The ultimate goal of freedom from slavery to Pharaoh was that the Jewish people should know G-d, that the Jewish people should bring the knowledge of G-d into the world -- that we should act in ways that make the world a better place. We were freed from Egyptian bondage so that we are able to accept, as the rabbis taught, "the yoke of the Torah".

Thus, Passover not only celebrates freedom from the slavery of the past, but also the freedom to worship God in a manner that they had not been able to do in Egypt. As in the Ten Commandments, the opening statement declares that God took the Jewish people out from Egypt  but only in order to lead to the other commandments. Freedom that devolves into self-indulgence is not freedom at all. Freedom without a noble purpose is of little value.

Fortunately, over the last several decades in our country college students have been able to use the freedom offered by their spring breaks in constructive ways.  These are called "alternative spring breaks." These are structured programs set up to give purpose to the freedom that our students enjoy while away from their classroom work. For example, Hillels on many campuses organize trips in the United States and around the world for college students to engage in social service projects while studying Jewish values. Their day starts each morning with discussing a Jewish value that is relevant to the purpose of the student being there. In one recent trip to Buenos Aires, students worked at a local school for underprivileged children, packed shelves at a food bank and helped distribute medicine at a medical clinic. Our Jewish Federation office in Chicago subsidizes these trips for students attending Illinois colleges and universities. Students from Illinois schools have also traveled to New Orleans, Cuba, and Uruguay, as well as Argentina, to do social service work over spring break.

What is freedom?  The pagan festival of Dionysius and the traditional spring break point to one answer – freedom is the liberation from all restraint. But our experience of liberation from Egypt, and the alternative spring breaks, point to a different answer – freedom is the ability to choose to serve G-d with all our heart, with all our soul and with all our might.

Shabbat Shalom

Parashat Tsav

Moses' Absence

This Monday night is the beginning of Passover. Around the world millions of Jews will be sitting down with friends and family to the Passover Seder.  Attending a Passover Seder is probably the one Jewish ritual that almost all Jewish people fulfill every year. They may not come to synagogue, they may not observe the Sabbath, they may not keep Jewish dietary rules, but they will attend a Passover Seder and will eat matzah on Passover.  We are also commanded to tell the story of Passover to our children at the Seder and to engage in certain rituals which help us to remember the exodus from Egypt.

Yet we have a very unusual way of telling the story of Passover.  If you were to tell the story of the American Revolution to your children, could you omit the name of George Washington? Could you tell the story of the American Civil War without mentioning the name of Abraham Lincoln? Of course not! Yet, in the book that we use to tell the story of Passover, the Hagaddah, the name of the central figure in that story, Moses, is never mentioned!  Why do we tell this story and yet leave out the main person without whom the story could not have happened?

The traditional answer that we give to that question is that it was not Moses who brought us out of Egypt, it was G-d.  G-d gets all the credit for liberating the Jewish people in the re-telling of the story.  Moses is merely an instrument of G-d, and in order not to confuse things, in order not to mistake Moses for a god, we omit his name completely.

This evening I want to offer a different reason why Moses' name is left out of the Seder.  This reason was suggested by Rabbi Michael Balinsky, Executive Director of the Chicago Board of Rabbis, in a Torah study he led recently. Before I go on, however, I have to issue a warning. We Jews do not look upon even our holiest of men and women as perfect. Only G-d is perfect. Everybody else, even Moses, has flaws, and often these flaws are serious ones.  In our studies we do not shy away from looking at them, and understanding them.  One of Moses' greatest flaws is one reason, perhaps, why he is not mentioned in the Hagaddah. 

Those of you who know your Bible will remember a strange incident in Moses' life.  Moses is returning to Egypt from Midian with Tsiporra, his wife, and his two sons.  G-d strikes one of the sons and seeks to kill him. Tsipporah, Moses' wife, takes a flint and circumcises one of the sons.  He recovers.

This story raises many questions. It has been a father's obligation to circumcise his sons at the age of eight days from the time of Abraham. Why did Moses neglect to circumcise his son at the proper time? Why did he leave it to his wife, Tsippora, to circumcise his son at this time of danger?  Should he not have done it himself?

After this incident on the way back to Egypt, we do not hear anything more about Moses' family.  Throughout his negotiations with Pharaoh, throughout the ten plagues, throughout the parting of the Red Sea, the Bible tells us nothing about Moses' wife and two sons.  In fact, the next mention of them comes after the Israelites have crossed the Red Sea and have left Egypt behind.  The Bible tells us that Jethro, Moses' father in law, heard all that G-d had done for the Israelites and brought "Zipporah, the wife of Moses, after she had been sent away, and her two sons" to visit Moses.

More questions!  "After she had been sent away?" When did Moses send her away? The text never mentions this. What does it mean that Moses sent his wife away? And why does the Torah describe the children as "her two sons". Are they not also Moses' sons? Should not the text have said that Jethro, Moses' father in law, brought "their two sons?"    

Here is the shocker. Here is what the Torah never tells us. Here is where we have an oral tradition that fills in the blanks at what the Torah only hints at. When the Torah says that Moses "sent his wife away" our oral tradition tells us what the text of the Torah omits. It is that he actually divorced her. That is what "sent away" really means.  When the Torah speaks of the children being "her two sons" it is because it was the mother, Zipporah, who brought them up. Alone. Now we can understand why Moses did not circumcise his son at the proper time. Why his wife did it instead of him. Moses is not the greatest father in the world. He leaves everything having to do with the children up to his wife. Even the obligations of a father to a son, he leaves to her. That is why the Torah calls the boys "her two sons". Moses had very little to do with their upbringing after he divorced his wife.

Later on, Zipporah herself confirms this. Again, we must turn to our oral tradition. The Torah text relates that two men, Eldad and Meldad, are prophesying in the Israelite camp. Joshua is concerned about these prophets undermining Moses' authority. "My lord, Moses, incarcerate them," suggests Joshua in alarm. Moses is not threatened. That is part of his greatness. "Would that the entire people could be prophets," Moses replies. Where is Zipporah, Moses' wife, during all this? The oral tradition tells us that Zipporah is standing next to Miriam, Moses' sister.  Zipporah whispers to Miriam, "Woe to their wives if they are required to prophesy, for they will separate from their wives just as my husband separated from me."

Moses was a great man. In our tradition, he is the greatest prophet who ever lived. Yet we are not blind to his flaws. He was not a good husband. He was not a good father. This great leader of a nation was not a family man. Yet what is the Passover Seder if not a time for families?  It is a time when parents are to teach their children around a sacred meal. Should a man who was himself never home for dinner be part of such important family time?  Moses is not the model that we want for a husband or father on this family centered holiday. Therefore, he is not mentioned this night when we gather with our families to retell our most important story.

There is a different prophet who becomes an important part of our Seder. At each Seder table around the world on Monday night there will be a cup of wine set apart for Elijah the Prophet. Of Elijah the prophet it is written that "he will restore the heart of fathers to their children and the heart of children to their fathers." This is the ideal of the Jewish family and of families everywhere -- that parents and children will be reconciled and turn toward each other with love and respect; that parents will not only teach their children, but that children will also teach their parents; that this take place not only on Passover night with Jewish families but on all nights for all families for all of people throughout the world. Elijah the Prophet – the one who will bring reconciliation to parents and children – he is the one who is most welcome to join us for our Passover meal.

Shabbat Shalom and A Zissen Pesach

 

 

 

Parasha VaYikra -- March 16, 2013

A Call to Leadership

March 17 marks an important anniversary in Jewish history of the 20^th century.  March 17 is the 21rst anniversary of the bombing of the Israeli embassy in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The attack killed 29 people and injured 250 others. Among the victims were Israeli diplomats, children, clergy from the church located across the street, and passers-by. The state Supreme Court investigated the incident, but it was not vigorously pursued and no action was taken. Inaction has its consequences. Two years later, on July 18, 1994, the Jewish Community Center in Buenos Aires was bombed. This time, 87 people were killed and over 100 injured. That attack ranked as one of the deadliest anti-Semitic incidents anywhere in the world since World War ll. Yet, the investigation into who was responsible was marred by incompetence, obfuscation, and outright cover-up. Despite evidence that Iran was directly involved in this act of terrorism, all Argentina's government did was expel Iranian diplomats from the country in 1998. A formal investigation into the attack was never pursued. Last week it was announced that a joint Argentine - Iranian commission would be set up to bring people to justice. With all due respect, that is like Elliot Ness inviting Al Capone to participate in a joint investigation of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre.

This Shabbat Jews all around the world begin the reading of the Book of Leviticus. In Hebrew it is named "Vayikra" which means, "And He called." G-d calls Moses into the Tabernacle to meet with him. Of course, another religious leader has been called to service this week in our own time. Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio has been called by G-d to lead the Catholic Church. And we wonder, "What would Moses think?" If Moses were to examine Cardinal Bergoglio's record with the Jewish people, I believe he would approve of what he discovered. One place where Moses would surely want to look was Cardinal Bergoglio's response to the above mentioned terrorism that was directed at the Jewish community of Buenos Aires in the early nineties. Reports are that he stood in solidarity with the Jewish community during those dark times. In 2005, Bergoglio was the first public figure to sign a petition for justice in the Jewish Community Center bombing case. He also was one of the signatories on a document called "85 victims, 85 signatures" as part of the bombing's 11th anniversary. In June 2010, he visited the rebuilt Jewish Community Center building to talk with Jewish leaders.  Just this past November the good Father hosted a special memorial for Kristallnacht at the Buenos Aires Metropolitan Cathedral. He wrote an introduction to a book published recently by an Argentinean Rabbi, Sergio Bergman, referring to him as "one of my teachers." In a visit to a Buenos Aires synagogue he said he came to examine his heart, "like a pilgrim, together with you, my elder brothers."

When we look at the Torah this week, we see something curious about the first word of the Book of Leviticus -- VaYikrah. The final letter of the word, the alef, is smaller than the other letters. Our rabbis understood this to teach us that even though Moses was a great leader and was privileged to be called by G-d, he never lost his humility. He never let his exalted position in the community go to his head. By all accounts, the new Pope follows that model of religious leadership. Israel Singer, former head of the World Jewish Congress worked with the Father in a joint Jewish-Catholic program to aid the poor in Buenos Aires. "We went out to the barrios where Jews and Catholics were suffering together," reported Singer. "If everyone sat in chairs with arms, he would sit in the one without. He was always looking to be more modest. He's going to find it hard to wear all these uniforms."

As Singer implies, in order to become an effective Pope, Francis I must overcome his humility to some extent.  To wear all fancy clothing that the Pope wears might indeed be difficult for a man of great humility. To assume all the trappings of power and prestige while maintaining ones humility can be a challenge.  Yet, it is possible. That is why Moses had to be "called" by G-d. That is why we in the clergy are said to have "a calling". The idea of "a calling" implies a certain reluctance to serve, and understanding that we are unworthy of so noble a role as representing G-d in the community.  The story is told of one of Rabbi Israel Salanter's disciples. "Rabbi," he said to his teacher, "I am in serious financial trouble because I do not have a job."

"Why not become a rabbi?" asked Rabbi Israel.

"Rabbi, I am afraid that I might give an incorrect ruling."

"Who then should become a Rabbi?" said Rabbi Israel. "One who is not afraid of ruling incorrectly?"

In other words, someone's got to do the job.  Better a humble person who is not sure of his worthiness than a supremely confident one who feels he was born for the moment.

"Humility," writes Frank Crane, "is the wish to be great and the dread of being called great. It is the wish to help and the dread of thanks. It is the love of service and the distaste of rule. It is trying to be good and blushing when caught at it."  The Pope has been called to lead our Catholic brothers and sisters of the world, just as Moses was called to lead the people of Israel, just as all clergy need to feel called to the service of the divine.  We pray that he leads with wisdom and with humility. May his pontificate further the cause of peace and brotherhood for all humanity.  So may it be for us all.           

 

 

 

 

 

 

Parasha VaYakhel Pekudei

A preacher went into his church and he was praying to God. While he was praying, he asked God, "How long is 10 million years to you?"

G-d replied, "1 second."

The next day the preacher asked God, "God, how much is 10 million dollars to you?"

And G-d replied, "A penny."

Then finally the next day the preacher asked God, "God, can I have one of your pennies?"

And God replied, "Just wait a sec."

We all know the familiar proverb, "Time is money."  But in many ways, time is not like money at all -- it is much more precious. One cannot accumulate time; one cannot borrow time; and one can never tell how much more time one has left in the Bank of Life. Time can certainly be wasted, as can money. But time well spent can yield returns far greater and more lasting than anything that money can buy. One might say that time is the most precious thing we have in life. One poet called time "the ummanufactured tissue of the universe of life" (Arnold Bennett)

In his book The Sabbath, Abraham Joshua Heschel compared the ancient pagans' glorification and sanctification of space, with Judaism's elevation and sanctification of time. The Sabbath, he writes, that most distinctive creation of the Jewish spirit, creates a "palace in time." Through observing the Sabbath the Jew feels transported and uniquely connected to the divine.

Heschel was only partly right. Our Torah reading this week reflects the preciousness of space as well as time. It opens with Moses gathering the people together. As the curtain goes up we are expecting that he will tell them the instructions that he has received to build the Tabernacle -- the holy place. Instead, he opens with the words about the holiness of time, "Six days work may be done, but on the seventh you shall have a Sabbath of complete rest." Only then does Moses go on to detail how the Tabernacle should be constructed. Earlier on, in Parasha Ki Tissa, when G-d instructs Moses on how to build the Tabernacle, G-d immediately follows these instructions with the injunction to observe the Sabbath. "Whoever does work on the Sabbath," says Moses, "shall be cut off from his kin." Notice that the Torah does not define "work". So what behaviors, exactly, are we to abstain from on the Sabbath? What constitutes "work"? From the two fold juxtaposition of the commandment to work on the Tabernacle with the commandment to rest on the Sabbath, the rabbis derived the very definition of "work". "Work" meant any of the 39 categories of labor associated with building the Tabernacle-- from sewing and weaving to hammering and joining.

All work on the Tabernacle, reasoned the rabbis, must be suspended on the Shabbat -- not only while the work of building the Tabernacle was going on, but for all Sabbaths thereafter.  This teaches us an important lesson. The Tabernacle is a holy space. The Shabbat is holy time. However, when there is a conflict between the holiness of space and the holiness of time, the holiness of time takes precedence.

The Torah tells us that G-d created the world in six days. G-d declares the Sabbath, the seventh day of the week, holy. G-d created time and space together, but time is the only one of the two that G-d blesses and makes holy. What does it mean to be holy, to be blessed, to be sanctified? It means to be set apart as special. It means to have the potential to partake of a higher spiritual worth. Yet, it is only a potential. If we, you and I, do not also sanctify time, then the time becomes just another day of the week for us. It is only Saturday if we do not make it Shabbat. The Sabbath is a portal in time that we may enter that will bring us closer to G-d, but we need to take the initiative to take the first steps through it.  

 

Shabbat Shalom

Parasha Ki Tissa

 On Wednesday morning, I woke up, opened my email, and my heart sank. There it was, a message   I did not want to see -- Pages and pages with the words, "Mailer-Daemon Failure Notice." My email had been hacked yet again. My privacy had been violated.  A message that I had not sent had been disseminated to everyone in my address book.   Then the messages from friends, colleagues, family began to arrive... "I think your email has been hacked." "Thank you very much," I wrote back, "I am taking care of it. Sorry." It is not like I am not vigilant in protecting my computer. But apparently there are viruses, malware, spybots, Trojans and cookies that can evade all our best attempts to protect our privacy. 

One of the emails I received was from a former congregant in Springfield, Massachusetts, Larry. Larry is owner and operator of Computer Care. He very kindly volunteered to rid my computer of whatever was causing the unpleasant problem.   I figured this would require many hours on the telephone with Larry. But no, by downloading a program on the internet, I was able to give Larry a code with which he was able, remotely, to gain access to my computer.  As I sat at my computer screen, my cursor mysteriously moved around my computer, clicking on various programs, opening some and shutting down others. It was like a ghost had taken over the keyboard.  He downloaded a program which searched out all of the foreign bodies that had taken up residence on my computer, essentially spying on me. At the end of the process, which took a couple of hours, Larry checked my computer again, pronounced it healthy, and left me a nice note, written on my Wordpad, instructing me how to avoid such infiltrations in the future.  He was even so kind as to print it out for me – on my own printer!

Now Larry needed a special password to gain access to my computer from Massachusetts, and that password expires after every use, so there is no danger of him searching out my computer when I do not want him to. I just want to reassure everyone, just in case you are wondering...  He would never do that anyway. But there are apparently many ways for companies to do this without our knowing.  For example, Google has a computer go through every email we send to one another, searching for keywords with which to target us with ads. Your cable provider knows exactly what programs you watch and for how long.  Facebook can track on-line activity even after you have logged off of Facebook. At work, your browsing history is probably logged by members of your IT department.  "Supercookies" are unknowingly downloaded from websites we visit, then they collect information about our activities across multiple websites. 

It is also possible to violate your own privacy with shocking results. Ashley Payne, as 24 year old English teacher in Georgia went on a European vacation in 2009 and posted over 700 pictures to her Facebook page. Ten of those had Ashley holding alcohol. She also posted that she was heading out to play a popular game at a local restaurant. The game had a profane word in it. An anonymous person, identifying themselves only as the parent of a student, emailed the principal with the pictures and complained about Ashley. The principal called her into the office and told her that she would either have to resign or she would be suspended. She resigned. She was mystified as to how these pictures made their way into the hands of a parent at her school. She had set her "privacy settings" on Facebook so that only her closest friends were able to see these pictures.  Her students had no access to them.  Apparently, that was not enough for her private life to be used against her.

Now, what does Judaism have to say about privacy? It turns out, a great deal. I will give three examples. The first example deals with privacy from intrusion. Last week we learned that the robe of the High Priest was adorned with 72 silver bells on its hem. This meant that when the High Priest walked, he jingled!  The sages teach that this was to warn people when he approached, so that he could not sneak up on them. If they heard the High Priest coming, they had a warning. If they were doing anything about which the High Priest might disapprove, they could stop. In other words, the High Priest could not suddenly walk in and disturb their privacy.  The rabbis extended this to teach that one should knock on a door before one entered a room.  Even if it the door of one's own home, they said, one should knock first before entering.

The second example deals with visual privacy. In the Book of Numbers, the pagan prophet Balaam was sent by the King, Balak, to curse the Israelites. Balaam stands on a mountain overlooking the encampment of the Jewish people in the desert. He is unable to curse them. Instead, he recites the words that the sages later chose to open our services on Shabbat morning. "How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel." The Talmud asks – what did Balaam notice about the Israelite encampment that caused him to bless it in this way?  The answer --He saw that their tent openings did not face each other." The Israelites respected the privacy of one another. Balaam said, "These people are worthy to have G-d's presence dwell among them."

The final example concerns privacy of one's private mail. In around 1000 CE Rabeinu Gershom of Mainz on the River Rheine issued a series of rulings known as Takanot.  Rebeinu Gershom was the greatest rabbi of his generation, known as the "Light of the Exile". In one ruling he decreed that a person could not read the mail of one's neighbor without his permission. He extended this to privacy in commercial communications as well. Failure to abide by this ruling would result in a person's excommunication from the Jewish people.

 Judaism values privacy very highly because it protects, maintains and honors the dignity of each human being. It is important to reflect on what our Jewish tradition teaches us about the limits of intrusion into the lives of others.  Our tradition has much to offer as our society grapples with the new challenges to privacy that come with living in the digital age.       

Shabbat Shalom

Parasha Tetsaveh

Last week Pope Benedict shocked the world by announcing his retirement.  As you know, he will become the first Pope in some 600 years who does not die in office. Since that time, there have been many articles analyzing this decision and the legacy that Pope Benedict would leave. One such article in the Chicago Tribune caught my attention earlier this week.  The article was by Charlotte Allen and it was titled, "The Best Dressed Pope Ever".  So perfectly has Pope Benedict been garbed that she described him as "The Duke of Windsor of Popes" in her article.  She goes on to give us some examples of the Pope's sartorial splendor:

 "Benedict saying Mass in 2008 at Washington Nationals Park in a billowing scarlet satin chasuble (a priest's outermost liturgical garment) trimmed with crimson velvet and delicate gold piping. Benedict greeting worshipers in Rome, his chasuble this time woven of emerald-green watered silk with a pattern of golden stars. Benedict on Oct. 21 canonizing Kateri Tekakwitha, a 17th-century Mohawk woman, while attired in a fanon, a gold-and-white striped shoulder covering, dating to the 8th century, that only popes may wear."

 She compares Benedict's "fancy dressing" to the more sedate wear of his predecessors, particularly his immediate predecessor Pope John Paul ll, who, she says, a little snarkily, "had little interest in clothes, tending to wear whatever was handed to him."

 When I read this, I couldn't help but wonder whether the papal vestments had been modeled after the priestly garments worn at the Temple in Jerusalem, and which are described in detail in our Torah portion for this week.  After all, the Church understood itself as being the successor to Judaism.  However, according to the Catholic Encyclopedia, the Pope's vestments are derived not from the priestly dress of the Hebrew Scriptures at all, all, but rather from the secular dress of the Greco-Roman world in which the early Church developed.

 So if the Church did not borrow the vestments of the Priests of Jerusalem for its own rituals, with the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE the priestly garments of the ancient Jewish world passed out of existence, right? Since there were no more priests serving in the Temple in Jerusalem, the garments of the priests described in our Torah portion are out of sight and therefore out of mind.  If you thought that, you would be very wrong.  Because if you go to any synagogue on any Sabbath morning, the memory, sight, and even sound of the priests in the Temple in Jerusalem are right before our eyes, if only we knew what we were looking at.

 Our Parasha this week speaks of six vestments that the Priest will wear in performing his duties.  These are the Breastplate, the Ephod, the Robe, the Tunic, the Turban and a Sash.  The face of the breastplate was filled with 12 gemstones, representing the tribes of Israel.

 Where in our service do we see the clothing of the priests?  Why, on the Torah!  The Torah mantle, or covering, represents the Robe or Tunic that the priest wore as the outer garment.  This mantle is decorated in various ways. Sometimes biblical verses are embroidered in the fabric of the mantle. Or, gemstones can be represented that recall the gems of the breastplate of the High Priest.

 The sash, or belt, with which we bind the Torah recalls the sash worn by the Priest.  The breastplate worn by the priest, with its twelve gemstones representing all of Israel, is recalled by the breastplate that is often placed in the Torah, over the mantle.  This too symbolizes that the Torah is the possession of all of the people of Israel, not just its leaders.

 Finally, we place a crown on the top of the Torah, over the handles.  This represents the Turban that the priests in the Temple wore when performing their duties.  Often, instead of a crown, a congregation will place two finials, or, in Hebrew, "rimonim" over each protruding handle of the Torah scroll.  These rimonim are often decorated with small bells that jingle as the Torah is carried through the congregation. Thus, we not only recall the sight of the vestments of the Priest, but the sound of the priest walking as well.  For the Torah tells us that around the hem of the Priest's robe were sewn 72 bells, which, of course, jingled as the Priest walked, announcing his presence to all.

 In her article about the Pope's vestments, Charlotte Allen wonders about the message that the Pope Benedict is hoping to convey by his choice of dress.  She conjectures that by using beautiful traditional clothing he is reminding people that despite the ugliness of the Church scandals of the past decades, there is much that is beautiful and timeless about the faith that he professes.  When we gaze upon the Torah scroll, when we reach out to touch it and to kiss it, may we likewise be reminded of our ancient tradition and the beauty and eternity of the Jewish faith.

Shabbat Shalom

 

 

 

 

--

Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph

Congregation Beth Shalom

Naperville, Illinois