Parasha Shoftim: Community

 Parasha Shoftim: Community

This week's parasha is Shoftim.  In it, the Israelites are commanded as to what kind of institutions they will need to set up when they leave their life of desert wandering to settle in communities in the Land of Canaan.  These institutions include courts, police, armed forces and a political system with which to govern themselves.  Where-ever we Jews have wandered, and then settled, we have followed this pattern of building institutions that will nurture and support communal life.  Without those institutions there would be no community. Without Congregation Beth Shalom, Jews who lived here would be merely a collection of individuals scattered over a wide geographic area who happened to be Jewish. With the beginning of our synagogue, the Jewish Community was created. 

I was thinking about the importance of community on my vacation this summer.  I was back in Connecticut with my wife visiting our son who lives there.  I wanted to visit my former community in Amherst Massachusetts – but where would I find it?  I mean, I could drive around my neighborhood and see if any of my former neighbors were about, I suppose. But it was likely I would find no one out.  I couldn't very well visit my former place of employment, the mental health center where I worked for almost 20 years.  Sure, the institution was still there, but everyone I knew there either retired, was laid off, or otherwise moved on.   The place where I would find my community, in fact, was obvious from the start.  I would go to my former synagogue, where I had been a member for the years before I decided to study to be a rabbi.  I would go on a Shabbas morning. And, sure enough, there were 30 people there that morning who I had known for much of my adult life, who had celebrated with me, comforted me, argued with me, sang with me, laughed with me and got angry with me.  And, now they were so happy to see me, and to hear about our new life in the mid-west. 

The writer Mitch Albom, who became famous with the publication of his book Tuesdays with Morrie, recently published another book, Have a Little Faith.  In it, he returns to the Jewish community of his childhood in New Jersey. In writing about the community of his childhood,    he begins to come to terms with all he had left behind and lost.  His plans as a young man – to become 'a citizen of the world' -- had largely come true, he writes.  He had friends in different time zones. He'd been published in foreign languages. He had lived all over the world.

But, he writes, "You can touch everything and be connected to nothing. I knew airports better than local neighborhoods.  I knew more names in other area codes than I did on my block."  Most of his relationships, he writes, were through the workplace.  Then he thought about workplace friends who were fired, or had quit due to illness.  "Who comforted them?" he wonders, "Where did they go? Not to me. Not to their former bosses."

Often, he concludes, they were helped and supported by their church or synagogue communities. "Members took up collections. They cooked meals. They gave money to pay bills. They did it with love empathy and knowledge that it was part of the supportive undercarriage of a "sacred community", like the one I guess I once belonged to, even if I didn't realize it."

We too often don't realize what we have in our sacred community. We take it for granted, or are disappointed in its shortcomings.  But where would you come if you moved from Naperville and wanted to visit your community?  I hope the answer would be "Congregation Beth Shalom."
Good Shabbas.

 

 

 

 

How does Judaism help us become more independent in mind and spirit?

How does Judaism help us become more independent in mind and spirit?

Traditionally, after a bar mitzvah has completed the recitation of the aliyah, the father of the youngster recites a blessing known as "she-petarani", after the first major word in the prayer – "Blessed is the One who freed me (she-petarani) from the responsibility of this child."  According to Hertz, this prayer does not express the relief of a father at being freed from the care of his child, but rather the joy of the father as his child enters the community as an independent adult.  What does it mean, however, to be an "independent adult" at the age of thirteen?  One of my bar-mitzvah students years ago was troubled enough by this idea that he was compelled to remind his parents in his D'var-Torah that he would still need them during his teen-age years!   

Becoming an "independent adult" at the age of thirteen certainly does not imply financial or emotional independence at such a young age.   Rather, the bar and bat mitzvah represents an age of moral and religious independence, the age at which a young person assumes the responsibility for their moral and religious behavior.  Up to this point in their lives, the parent had the responsibility for the Jewish education of their child. From now on, it is up to the young person to make the decisions about how to pursue their Jewish education.  It is up to the young person, now, to determine how and to what extent they will fulfill their ritual obligations in their Jewish life.  Up to this point in their lives, the parents had the responsibility to guide their child in their ethical and moral life. From now on, it is up to the young person to seek moral and ethical guidance from his parents and teachers.   The young person will now join all other adults in accepting the full consequences of their own moral and ethical lapses.  They will also, of course, reap the full reward for their good moral and ethical behavior. 

Judaism, therefore, helps us to become more mindful and aware of our responsibilities as Jews  by providing a ritual, the bar/bat mitzvah, that marks the beginning of moral and religious independence.  But independence of mind and spirit has long been characteristic of the Jewish people as a whole.  After all, our people's survival  in the Diaspora as a minority for so many years has required a great deal of independence from the majority culture in which we have lived.  First of all, there was always relentless pressure upon Jews to convert to Christianity or Islam.  Resistance to this pressure required a great deal of intellectual and spiritual independence as well as physical bravery.  Secondly, Jews were not granted citizenship in the European countries in which they lived until the 19^th century.  Therefore, we were forced to set up our own communal institutions for education, taxation, justice and health and welfare to take care of the needs of the Jewish community, while the civil government of the country took care of  (or neglected) everyone else.  

In a speech before the society of B'nai Brith in Vienna in 1926, Sigmund Freud gave thanks for two characteristics that he said were due to his "Jewish nature".  "Because I was a Jew," he said, "I found myself free from many prejudices that hampered others in the use of their intellects; and as a Jew, I was prepared to take my place on the side of the opposition and renounce being on good terms with the "compact majority."  The "outsider status" of the Jew in society has thus been a double edge sword.  It has led to a great deal of prejudice and persecution as a minority.  It has also freed us to think independently and to have the courage to hold unpopular opinions, which, in the case of Freud, led to a revolution in how humanity understands itself.

Jewish Values and Einstein

We are fast approaching the New Year.  The editor of our newsletter, Brad Kolar, assigns us "regular columnists" a topic to write on for each newsletter.  The topic chosen this month is "What Jewish values do you most want to carry with you into the New Year."  I wondered  about the concept of Jewish values, and whether there were distinct "Jewish" values that we Jews in America held that were different from the values of our neighbors.  After all, one of the reasons for our high intermarriage rate is the fact that young Jewish men and women meet other men and women in the workplace or socially who are not Jewish, but who hold the same values as they do.  They find that they have grown up with the same values, regardless of the religion in which they were raised!   American society has more or less made Jewish values its own, and America has benefitted mightily from that.  Jews have also taken on values from the non-Jewish world that has not been considered traditional Jewish values. For example, the emphasis today on athletic accomplishment and competition has not been a part of traditional Jewish values.   

One of my favorite quotations regarding Jewish values comes from Albert Einstein.  He said, "The pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, an almost fanatical love of justice, and the desire for personal independence -- these are the features of the Jewish tradition which make me thank my lucky stars I belong to it."  I associated the first part of that sentence – "The pursuit of knowledge for its own sake" – with the rabbinic value of "Torah Lishma" – "pursuit of Torah study for its own sake."  (I am using "Torah study" in its broadest sense here – the study of Hebrew scriptures, Talmud and the later writings of the rabbis.) In Pirke Avot, Chapter 6, Rabbi Meir says, "Whoever studies Torah lishma [for its own sake] merits many features and, in addition, his study warrants the maintenance of our universe. He is referred to as a friend, an adored personality, a lover of God", and Rabbi Meir goes on to list other virtues which more or less cover the entire gamut of positive character traits. 

Now there are many interpretations, it turns out, about what "pursuit of Torah study for its own sake" really means.  Some say it means studying Torah in order to be better able to fulfill all of its mitzvoth – the behavioral demands of Torah.  Others say "Torah for its own sake" means we study neither out of fear of punishment or out of expectation of reward, but purely out of our love for G-d.  Still others understand Torah Lishma as study to become more adept in Torah's logic and more knowledgeable of its vastness. 

This latter meaning of "Torah Study for its own sake" comes closest to the Jewish value that Einstein adhered to in his scientific investigations, and that he felt he owed so much to his membership in the Jewish people.  Einstein did not believe in a personal G-d who intervened in the lives of His creatures.  He did not seek the answers to his questions in Torah study.  Yet his motivation for his scientific investigations is deeply connected to Jewish values.  "I want to know how God created this world," he once wrote. " I am not interested in this or that phenomenon, in the spectrum of this or that element. I want to know G-d's thoughts. The rest are details."

That sounds like Torah Lishma to me.

 

Shabbat Shalom

Publicizing the Miracle

 

This week marked a first, I believe, in Naperville history – the placement of a menorah next to the Christmas tree on Naperville's Riverwalk.  Newspaper reports, ever on the lookout for the sensational or controversial to sell their papers, highlighted the perceived threat of a lawsuit should the Park District not acquiesce to Chabad's request to place the menorah on the Riverwalk.  But Chabad was merely asserting that they had a proven constitutional right to display a menorah, and in the end the issue was resolved amicably and in accordance with local ordinances and constitutional law.

The Naperville Sun asked its readers what it thought of such a public display of a menorah.  I reviewed all 22 responses on the website.  They were unanimous in their opinion that Jewish people not only had a right to display the menorah on public property but that such a display was welcome by the community. 

A number of parents commented how excited their children were to come upon a menorah on the Riverwalk.  Seeing the menorah brought a sense of pride and belonging, not only I suspect to the children but to the adults as well.  Yet, the purpose of putting up a menorah on public property is neither to improve the Jewish self-esteem of our children, nor to vigorously exercise our constitutional right to celebrate our holiday in a public manner, nor to raise the public profile of the Jewish community in Naperville – although it does all these things.  Chabad placed the menorah on the Riverwalk as a way of fulfilling an ancient mitzvah – not a "good deed" but a "divine command."   In their brief discussion of Chanukah in the Talmud, the rabbis engage in a discussion of how to fulfill the primary spiritual goal of the holiday.  In Aramaic, one of the languages of the Talmud, this mitzvah is called "pirsumey nisa" -- publicizing the miracle of Chanukah.

The rabbis even allowed one to neglect performing another mitzvah in order to fulfill this one.  They said that if a person only had enough money to afford either Sabbath wine for Kiddush or oil for the Chanukah lights, they should forgo the wine and buy oil to light the candles for Chanukah.  The reason given was that publicizing the miracle that G-d did for the Jewish people was preferable to sanctifying the Sabbath with wine if a choice needed to be made.

So important it is that the lights of the menorah be used ONLY to publicize the miracle of Chaunukah that the rabbis forbid using the light of the menorah for any other reason – such as reading by them or even studying Torah.  That is how we came to have the Shamash candle. The Shamash is used to light the other candles, and also may be used as a light to read or see by.  But the remaining candles are for display only – to fulfill the divine command to publicize the miracle.

So central to this ritual is publicizing the miracle of Chanukah that the rabbis ordained even where they are to be lit.  The lighting should take place where the most people passing by could see the candles.  Only during times of danger could the menorah be lit in the interior of the home.

Of course, today we have other ways of publicizing the miracle of Chanukah. The cantor appeared on the front page of the Downers Grove newspaper in an article about the Klezmer concert and Chanukah.  I appeared on the Nequa Valley High School television last Friday explaining the miracle of Chanukah.  All of this publicity serves to educate the general public about Jews and about G-d.  Perhaps someday soon the person checking me out at Naperville Toyota will not greet me with, "Have you set up your tree yet?" as she did, but with the more general, and sensitive, "Have a happy holiday!"  May this happen speedily and in our day!

Shabbat shalom and Hag Urim Sameach

 

           

Kabbalat Shabbat

Six year old Jacob approached me on the bima following a recent Friday night Family service. "This is what it is all about," he proclaimed, "this is the way it should be, and this is the way it will always be someday."  Intrigued, I asked him what he meant.  "Everybody sings together," he replied, "and everyone's getting along. It's peace." I thought, "He really gets it."  Jewish tradition views the Shabbat as a foretaste of the messianic age – a perfected world toward which all history is directed.  "This world is only like the eve of the Sabbath, whereas the world to come will be like the Sabbath itself," says an ancient Midrash.                                                                         
There are six psalms before Lecha Dodi, corresponding to the six days of creation.  The central theme of the Kabbalat Shabbat service is enthronement of G-d as sovereign of the world upon the completion of Creation.    These psalms can also be seen as having messianic overtones.  In the world to come, we will say to one another, "Come, let us sing to G-d, the Rock of our deliverance (Psalm 95). Psalm 96 envisions all the families of nations acknowledging G-d's power and justice, along with nature – the earth the heavens, the sea, the forests and the fields.   And so forth – Psalm 97 – G-d sits enthroned, let the world rejoice;  Psalm 98 "G-d's might has been triumphant, revealing supreme power to all;" Psalm 99, "G-d sits enthroned, the nations tremble.  Psalm 29, which we are about to sing, has a seven-fold repetition of the word – "kol"—"sound"—which connects it to the Sabbath structurally as well as thematically.
Then we sing "Lecha Dodi" which compares the Sabbath to a bride.  There is a lovely midrash which says that the Sabbath day came before G-d with a complaint.  Every day of the week has a mate, said the Sabbath to G-d.  Sunday has Monday, Tuesday has Wednesday, Thursday has Friday – but I have no mate!  The Holy One said to her, "Israel will be your mate."  When Israel came before G-d at Mt. Sinai, G-d said to Israel, "Remember what I said to the Sabbath: 'Israel will be your mate'." Thus the command, "Remember the Sabbath lkodsho" – that is, to enter into kiddushin, or marriage with it.  Not coincidently, a wedding is the other time when we Jews experience a taste of the world to come.  In fact, the entire prayer is filled with Kabalistic allusions to a perfected world where G-d will reign supreme.
Following Lecha Dodi we have two psalms, which form one unit.  Before the 16th century, when the Kabbalists of Safed developed the Kabbalat Shabbat service, the Sabbath evening service began here.  It too portrays an ideal world, where the "righteous shall flourish like a palm tree and grow tall like a cedar in Lebanon."  The Kabbalat Shabbat service concludes with psalm 93 and the theme of G-d's sovereignty over all the universe, for all of time and beyond.
Safed, the city where the Kabbalat Shabbat service was developed is on our itinerary for our CBS trip to Israel in June.  At 2,790 feet, it is the highest city in Israel.  In 1569 the great Kabbalist Rabbi Isaac Luria came to live there, and we will be able to visit his grave. The compiler of the Shulchan Aruch, Rabbi Joseph Karo, also lived in Safed, as did the author of Lecha Dodi, Shlomo Alkabetz, in the 16th century. Sefad commands magnificent views east to the Golan, north to the Hermon and Lebanon, west to Mt. Meron and the Amud Valley, and south to Tiberias and the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee). We will visit medieval synagogues, stroll around the artist quarter, explore historical sites and breathe the cool mountain air which has nurtured the spiritual powers of generations past and present.  Hope you can join us.
 

True Heroes

Tonight is the first night of Chanukah.  I don't know about you, but all week my thoughts have been turned to the image of the heroic champion striding across the field of battle defeating all.  The victories over the many, coming it were, one after another, is a true miracle. The years of struggle and dedication to one sacred cause are inspiring. The name will be celebrated and remembered ledor va-dor – from one generation to the other.  I am speaking, of course, about …… Tiger Woods.

 

Yet, once again, one of our culture's heroes has fallen.  Those who looked to Tiger as a role model have had their illusions shattered.  If you want a role model, better to look toward figures in our own tradition.  This week we read about Joseph, a young man sold into slavery, who is put in charge of the estate of a man named Potiphar.  Potifar's wife takes a liking to young Joseph, and attempts to seduce him.  The easy thing for Joseph to have done would have been to give in to her demands. Yet Joseph resists.       Indeed, Joseph is held up by the Talmud as the paradigm of the man who struggles with his own desires in the face of Potiphar's wife's daily temptations - and succeeds in controlling his passions. 

 

Or, consider the Maccabees.  They lived in a generation where they saw their fellow Jews seduced by an alien culture – the culture of the Greek Seleucids.  As Rabbi Yitz Greenberg describes it, "Like country people who come to the big city and are horrified by its fleshpots and sinfulness, so the Maccabees were outraged and offended by the nakedness, the 'bohemian', avant-garde air of Hellenism."  Like Joseph, the Maccabees, took a stand against practices and values that threatened to destroy the ethical code embodied in the Torah. 

 

We live in a society which puts before us constant temptations for transgression.  When we see our cultural heroes succumb to that temptation, it might weaken our own resolve to live morally.  Everybody cheats in business, we might think, everybody cheats in marriage, greed and avarice are rampant, drug and alcohol abuse widespread.  With the recent convictions of Bernie Madoff and Shalom Rubashkin, we have yet another reminder that Jews are not exempt from immoral and unethical behavior.  On this Shabbat as we learn from our heroic ancestors Joseph and the Maccabees that there is another way.  We can resist the darkness that beckons us and turn to the light of the Torah and her values in order to guide our way.

 

Shabbat Shalom and Hag Urim Sameach

 

 

Chaye Sarah 5770

Chaye Sarah 5770

G-d Blessed Abraham BaKol

This week's parasha opens with the death of Sarah and Abraham's purchase of the cave of Machpelah in which she will be buried.  After mourning and burying his wife, scriptures tells us the Abraham was old, "and G-d blessed Abraham "bah-kol".  It is conventionally translated as "G-d blessed Abraham with all".  But what is "all"?  You know that Hebrew letters also have numerical values.  Rashi, notes that the Hebrew letters of "Bakol" add up to "52", the same as the numerical value of the letters in "ben" – son.  This tells us that Abraham was blessed with everything because he had a son, Isaac, from Sarah.  One can understand how this would have been a great blessing, and some consolation, to a man who had just lost his life partner.  Rabbi Meir, on the other hand, reads this as a blessing that Abraham did not have a daughter!  You see, immediately after this verse, Abraham turns his attention to finding a wife for his son Isaac.  This involves sending his servant on a journey back to his city of origin in Mesopotamia to try to bring a wife back to the Land of Caanan.  If he had a daughter, Rabbi Meir reasons, Abraham would also have to find her a husband, but this would mean the daughter returning to Mesopotamia, because it was the custom of the time for women to live with their husband's family.  There his daughter would be exposed to idol worship and she would perhaps become an idolater herself.  So, it is a blessing that Abraham would not be subject to this heartache of separation and loss.  On the other hand, Rabbi Yehuda says that this verse means that Abraham did have a daughter, and her NAME was "Bakol" – as in, In old age, G-d blessed Abraham with "Bakol".  

There is yet another interpretation. That is, that G-d possesses a divine trait called "KOL", and that God blessed Abraham with this divine trait.  So, we can read this as "In Abraham's old age, G-d blessed him with the divine trait of "Allness".

What might this mean?  With Abraham experiencing the uncertainties of old age, the devastating loss of his wife and the challenge of finding a wife for his son, G-d blessed him with the capacity to see life's fullness and completeness in all things at all times.  It is perhaps easy to see the fullness and completeness of life in the sweeping majesty of a mountain range, in the birth of a healthy newborn, in the celebration of a birthday or of an anniversary.  It is so difficult to see life's fullness and completeness when we experience loss, poor health, or challenges that seem overwhelming. 

In the Shema we are taught to love G-d "bechol levavkah – with all your heart; bekhol nafshecha – with all your soul; uvechol me'odecha.  What is me-odecha?  Here is an interpretation from the Talmud based on the sound of the word – Meodecha – with each and every "mida" that G-d "modeds" we should "modeh" – whatever measure G-d measures out to you, you should acknowledge Him for it."  The capacity to recognize the divine in everything is indeed a great blessing.  May we all be blessed with the awareness of the divine in all things and in this way not only cope with the challenges ahead of us, but convert them into paths of greater gratefulness, hesed, and peace.

(Based on a D'var Torah by Rabbi Henry Glazer)