Following the detailed commandments in last week's portion concerning the construction of the Mishkan (Tabernacle), Parshat Tetzaveh (Exodus 27:20-30:10) begins with the daily mitzvah given to Aaron and his sons to kindle the menorah in the Mishkan with pure olive oil. G-d describes to Moses the special garments which are to be worn by the Kohanim (Cohen - priests) during their service, woven and crafted from materials donated by the people. The Torah portion then shifts its attention to G-d’s commandments regarding the melu'im, or inauguration ritual for the newly constructed Mishkan, to be performed completely by Moses for seven days. The ritual included Moses' adorning and anointing the Kohanim, and his bringing of offerings. On the eighth day, Aaron and his sons would assume their offices as the Kohanim. Then descriptions are provided for the offering to be brought in the Mishkan every day of the year in the morning and afternoon. The portion concludes with the command to build the last of the Mishkan's structures, the golden altar upon which the ketoret (incense) would be offered every morning and afternoon.
I found a D’var Torah online that speaks volumes to me about this week’s parshah, and I hope it sets the tone for tomorrow’s continued celebration of Shabbat.
So, this week's Torah portion, dwells at length on the detailed preparations performed by the Kohanim (priests) to properly serve G-d in the Mishkan. Special garments had to be worn and an inauguration rite was required before the actual service could begin. Why does it matter what they wore? Why was there such prerequisite procedure and attention to every detail? Couldn't the Kohanim just have immediately engaged in their duties?
In Mesillas Yesharim, a classical ethical treatise by Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, it is explained that our purpose in life is to strive to attain closeness to our Creator. The method for obtaining such an attachment is the performance of the mitzvot. Thus, following the 613-step program for success - the Torah - is the vehicle to properly serve G-d.
Some people may think that they can ignore the Divinely prescribed regimen for achieving closeness to G-d and become instantly pious, simply by virtue of a spiritual attitude. There is, however, no such thing as "Microwave Judaism". No one becomes an expert at something without working at it. A skinny weakling, upon entering the gym for the first time, hardly expects to immediately pump 300-pound barbells. Instead, he builds himself up through constant training and incremental adjustments. It takes time, effort, and equipment. No pain, no gain. Likewise, we must build up our spiritual muscles through unwavering observance of G-d’s mitzvot. How we dress and how we conduct ourselves creates within us a mindset that, over time, sensitizes us to our innate holiness and natural desire to connect with our Creator. An attachment to G-d is firmly internalized through years of engaging in the proper steps. It takes time to climb a mountain; one can't expect to leap right to the top.
This concept can be understood at an even simpler level. The Talmud states that when praying, one should enter the synagogue "at a distance of at least two doors" (Talmud Tractate Berachot 8a). Some interpret this to mean that one should not immediately jump into their prayers. Rather, you should enter inside the synagogue the amount of time to walk "a distance of at least two doors" - long enough to give you some time to settle your mind and prepare your thoughts for prayer (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 90:20). This short time period allows one to build yourself up for reaching out to G-d.
Thus, we can understand the importance of preparation. The procedures that the Kohanim had to follow teach us that one doesn't instantly become a servant of G-d simply because one feels that way. There is a long-term growth process that, over time, will enable one to truly be a spiritual person. It is through adhering to G-d's laws, in such matters as what we do and how we act, that we will acquire this proficiency and sensitivity.
Nothing in the world comes for free; you've got to earn your portion. But don't be discouraged, Rabbi Akiva didn't start lifting weights until he was 40.
Shabbat Shalom.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Parshat Noach (10/6/2010)
Personal Traits Are Offspring
This week’s Torah portion is about Noach, or as many know it, Noah. In this portion, G-d instructs Noach to bring much more than 2 of each animal, but all animals are to be brought on board an ark that is being built, in pairs. This is because the future depends on the entire bio-system and each species is entitled/needed for its contribution and right to exist. The balance in the parts speaks to the need to bring scorpions, rats, cats, etc - things that will be natural enemies on board.
How can they co-exist for the time on the ark? Some will be born and some will die. And what about the vegetarian animals? Noach is a story that challenges the logistic expert - how do we plan for the immediate future with a keen eye on the long term needs.
The Torah portion also has a peculiar beginning. It starts off by saying, “These are the offspring of Noah." But instead of listing his sons and daughters right after that, the Torah tells us, "Noah was a righteous man, perfect in his generation." Seems odd that offspring of Noach are personal traits. Why is that? According to Torah sages, more important than Noah’s children, or what he leaves behind for the future, is his mitzvoth; why he is so revered.
As members of our community, the members of this board have taken upon themselves the work of the congregation, by volunteering their time, sacrificing the precious commodity from our families. In some form, we do this to make a better future for our community. But the Torah teaches that as important as it is to sacrifice our time with our loved ones, it is more important to do the good deeds and worthwhile things, like mitzvah observance and character refinement that we accomplish in our own lifetimes.
So as we prepare for our current and future needs, and learn from our past, we move forward in time to accomplish the needs of our congregation with a good heart and mitzvoth for the community.
This week’s Torah portion is about Noach, or as many know it, Noah. In this portion, G-d instructs Noach to bring much more than 2 of each animal, but all animals are to be brought on board an ark that is being built, in pairs. This is because the future depends on the entire bio-system and each species is entitled/needed for its contribution and right to exist. The balance in the parts speaks to the need to bring scorpions, rats, cats, etc - things that will be natural enemies on board.
How can they co-exist for the time on the ark? Some will be born and some will die. And what about the vegetarian animals? Noach is a story that challenges the logistic expert - how do we plan for the immediate future with a keen eye on the long term needs.
The Torah portion also has a peculiar beginning. It starts off by saying, “These are the offspring of Noah." But instead of listing his sons and daughters right after that, the Torah tells us, "Noah was a righteous man, perfect in his generation." Seems odd that offspring of Noach are personal traits. Why is that? According to Torah sages, more important than Noah’s children, or what he leaves behind for the future, is his mitzvoth; why he is so revered.
As members of our community, the members of this board have taken upon themselves the work of the congregation, by volunteering their time, sacrificing the precious commodity from our families. In some form, we do this to make a better future for our community. But the Torah teaches that as important as it is to sacrifice our time with our loved ones, it is more important to do the good deeds and worthwhile things, like mitzvah observance and character refinement that we accomplish in our own lifetimes.
So as we prepare for our current and future needs, and learn from our past, we move forward in time to accomplish the needs of our congregation with a good heart and mitzvoth for the community.
Parshat Ki Teitzei (8/20/2010)
When You Go Out
This week's reading, Ki Teitzei, contains 74 commandments, more mitzvot than any other Torah portion. Some of the commandments discussed include the wearing of tzitzit, the obligation to bury the dead without undue delay, the requirement to return a found object, the prohibition against causing pain to any living creature, the punishment for adultery, the laws of marriage and divorce, the prohibition of lending with interest, the evidence of relatives in a court proceeding is inadmissible, and the obligation to eradicate the memory of Amalek.
There are two issues I would like to reflect on this week. First, is the wearing of tzitzit. According to tradition, our tallit were to have an indigo blue strand on each corner, representing G-d. The color itself was obtained from the pigmentation of a particular shellfish that was available in biblical times. That meant that we would be wearing a holy garment on ourselves that had touched a forbidden animal. I prepared a drash during our study of Leviticus that addressed the forbidden animals to us; not because they were unhealthy, but because they are beneath us to touch or eat. I say touch in particular because to simply touch the carcass of an animal that is beneath us to eat, is as bad as eating the flesh of the animal. Which brings me back to my original point that we used to don holy garments that contained the coloring from a forbidden animal. If shellfish are forbidden, and simply touching the carcass of the animal is forbidden, why then are we to make a holy garment from the coloring of the shell of this animal? There are lots of conundrums like these in the Torah, and not being a torah scholar, I’m not able to answer but we can discuss this during our Oneg.
The second issue I would like to discuss is the commandments themselves. The words Ki Teitzei mean “When you go out”. This is not necessarily a reference to going out to dinner, or attending a party, but rather, when we enter the land given to us by G-d. The parshat is specifically addressing what we have to keep in mind as we go from freed slaves, to a free nation. In this parsha, there is a time when Moses says to the people of Israel, “Remember that mitzvoth and Torah are the only effective guarantee of Jewish success and survival even while engaged in building and defending Jewish sovereignty in the Land of Israel.”
What is Moses really saying to us in this passage? It takes time to build a nation. We have to move into the land, and according to G-d rid it of idolaters, and build places to live. We are to build the temple where G-d will reside, and we need to establish an entire rule of law and government. We need to maintain an army for protection, begin establishing farms to provide food for ourselves and our livestock, and generally do what is necessary to create a place for us to live freely. In the midst of all of this, we must remember that for us to be successful, we have to maintain the laws and mitzvoth that G-d has given us over the last 40 years.
As a board member, I am constantly reminded that it takes time and energy to accomplish the work of the temple, to make sure that our children have activities to do as part of the Youth Group, the Ritual Committee addresses the issues of the temple, and touching base with the Building and Grounds committee to ensure that the lights work, and what needs to be repaired are indeed maintained. Driving my decisions are not only what is good for this congregation, but also what G-d has commanded us to do, and in particular me as a member of this Jewish community. To love thy neighbor as thyself. To help the poor, to be open to all ideas and thoughts, and to be honest and comforting to those in need.
So, as we go through life, from the entering of the Land of Israel, until eternity, as long as we remember the commandments and keep them holy, our lives will be filled with success and good health.
SHABBAT SHALOM
This week's reading, Ki Teitzei, contains 74 commandments, more mitzvot than any other Torah portion. Some of the commandments discussed include the wearing of tzitzit, the obligation to bury the dead without undue delay, the requirement to return a found object, the prohibition against causing pain to any living creature, the punishment for adultery, the laws of marriage and divorce, the prohibition of lending with interest, the evidence of relatives in a court proceeding is inadmissible, and the obligation to eradicate the memory of Amalek.
There are two issues I would like to reflect on this week. First, is the wearing of tzitzit. According to tradition, our tallit were to have an indigo blue strand on each corner, representing G-d. The color itself was obtained from the pigmentation of a particular shellfish that was available in biblical times. That meant that we would be wearing a holy garment on ourselves that had touched a forbidden animal. I prepared a drash during our study of Leviticus that addressed the forbidden animals to us; not because they were unhealthy, but because they are beneath us to touch or eat. I say touch in particular because to simply touch the carcass of an animal that is beneath us to eat, is as bad as eating the flesh of the animal. Which brings me back to my original point that we used to don holy garments that contained the coloring from a forbidden animal. If shellfish are forbidden, and simply touching the carcass of the animal is forbidden, why then are we to make a holy garment from the coloring of the shell of this animal? There are lots of conundrums like these in the Torah, and not being a torah scholar, I’m not able to answer but we can discuss this during our Oneg.
The second issue I would like to discuss is the commandments themselves. The words Ki Teitzei mean “When you go out”. This is not necessarily a reference to going out to dinner, or attending a party, but rather, when we enter the land given to us by G-d. The parshat is specifically addressing what we have to keep in mind as we go from freed slaves, to a free nation. In this parsha, there is a time when Moses says to the people of Israel, “Remember that mitzvoth and Torah are the only effective guarantee of Jewish success and survival even while engaged in building and defending Jewish sovereignty in the Land of Israel.”
What is Moses really saying to us in this passage? It takes time to build a nation. We have to move into the land, and according to G-d rid it of idolaters, and build places to live. We are to build the temple where G-d will reside, and we need to establish an entire rule of law and government. We need to maintain an army for protection, begin establishing farms to provide food for ourselves and our livestock, and generally do what is necessary to create a place for us to live freely. In the midst of all of this, we must remember that for us to be successful, we have to maintain the laws and mitzvoth that G-d has given us over the last 40 years.
As a board member, I am constantly reminded that it takes time and energy to accomplish the work of the temple, to make sure that our children have activities to do as part of the Youth Group, the Ritual Committee addresses the issues of the temple, and touching base with the Building and Grounds committee to ensure that the lights work, and what needs to be repaired are indeed maintained. Driving my decisions are not only what is good for this congregation, but also what G-d has commanded us to do, and in particular me as a member of this Jewish community. To love thy neighbor as thyself. To help the poor, to be open to all ideas and thoughts, and to be honest and comforting to those in need.
So, as we go through life, from the entering of the Land of Israel, until eternity, as long as we remember the commandments and keep them holy, our lives will be filled with success and good health.
SHABBAT SHALOM
Parshat Re'eh (8/6/2010)
Charity is a Mitzvah
This week’s Torah portion covers a variety of topics. It includes the giving of a blessing to Israel and a curse if we do not follow what G-d has commanded, to the best of our ability. It also prescribes that those that worship idols should be banished from the face of the earth, and their dwellings destroyed. It then instructs Israel that there is a particular place to build the temple, and that the worship of G-d should not be done anywhere other than the temple, including the offering of sacrifices. The parsha concludes with the laws of the three pilgrimage festivals – Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot.
Also contained in this parsha is the mitzvah of charity, and to this I want to explore a bit more in depth. Each week we read Psalm 92 for Shabbat, the prayer for the Sabbath. We sing the last four lines of this psalm beginning with Tzadek ka’tamar, “the righteous flourish”. Tzadek is a root word of Tzadekah, a righteous giving, a mitzvah. According to Torah, Jews are obligated to aid the needy fellow person with a gift or a loan. If the needy will not accept the gift typically out of pride, a loan is to be provided to maintain the pride of the one receiving help. Every seven years all loans are forgiven, and all indentured servants are to be set free after six years of service.
More specifically, the Torah explains in some detail that If there will among you a needy person from one of your brothers within any of your gates, in the land which G-d is giving you, you should not act obstinately, or close your hand to your needy brother. Rather, you should certainly open your hand to him, and lend to him on pledge sufficient for his need that he lacks.
Rashi elaborates on this by explaining that “The most needy have preference over others more fortunate. The poor of one’s city has preference over the poor of another city. There are people who painfully deliberate whether they should give or not, to which the Torah states you should not act obstinately, and there are people who stretch out their hand ready to give but then close it. Thus, the Torah elaborates you should certainly open your hand to the needy many times, and if they do not want a gift, you are to provide it as a loan. You are not commanded to make him wealthy but if he is starving, you should feed him. If he needs clothing, you should clothe him. If he was once rich and had a horse with a slave walking before him that should be provided to him as well.”
Does this mean we should give until we are impoverished? Absolutely not. However, we cannot turn our backs to those that need us most. In fact according to Talmud, and other rabbinic scholars, we as individuals do not necessarily have to provide for an individual but rather, provide what we can afford without becoming poor to a central group called the Gabbi-Tzedakah; the ones appointed over the community-collected funds to be dispensed to the poor. In order to fulfill the mission of our temples, we give to them to help the community at large, and more specifically, the Jewish community. To do so, according to the Torah, is a mitzvah.
When I was a teenager, there were numerous Jewish families coming out of the Soviet Union whose was obtained by a variety of Jewish organizations, but they had nothing but the clothing on their backs when they arrived to the States. My parents and grandmother helped provide apartments, clothing, and with the help of several temples in our region, food and furnishings to help these families start anew in the United States. One such individual was an avid swimmer, but because he was Jewish, was not permitted to train for the Olympics for Russia. When he arrived in the US, our local university, Youngstown State eagerly accepted him to teach swimming and as I understand went on to compete to represent the US in the Olympics. He did not make it, but was definitely among some of the finest swimmers on the US team in the 1980’s. But his opportunities would have never been possible without the giving of a community.
We expect a lot from our community, and to make it all happen requires a commitment. Giving comes in all forms, from volunteering to help in the community, within the temple committees, the board, or simply providing an Oneg or Kiddush on Shabbat. It also comes in the form of financial giving. This particular mitzvah is hard to do, and even harder to do well. But it’s not called Tzedakah for nothing. As I told my daughter on the day of her Bat Mitzvah, sometimes doing the right thing is the hardest.
Shabbat Shalom.
This week’s Torah portion covers a variety of topics. It includes the giving of a blessing to Israel and a curse if we do not follow what G-d has commanded, to the best of our ability. It also prescribes that those that worship idols should be banished from the face of the earth, and their dwellings destroyed. It then instructs Israel that there is a particular place to build the temple, and that the worship of G-d should not be done anywhere other than the temple, including the offering of sacrifices. The parsha concludes with the laws of the three pilgrimage festivals – Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot.
Also contained in this parsha is the mitzvah of charity, and to this I want to explore a bit more in depth. Each week we read Psalm 92 for Shabbat, the prayer for the Sabbath. We sing the last four lines of this psalm beginning with Tzadek ka’tamar, “the righteous flourish”. Tzadek is a root word of Tzadekah, a righteous giving, a mitzvah. According to Torah, Jews are obligated to aid the needy fellow person with a gift or a loan. If the needy will not accept the gift typically out of pride, a loan is to be provided to maintain the pride of the one receiving help. Every seven years all loans are forgiven, and all indentured servants are to be set free after six years of service.
More specifically, the Torah explains in some detail that If there will among you a needy person from one of your brothers within any of your gates, in the land which G-d is giving you, you should not act obstinately, or close your hand to your needy brother. Rather, you should certainly open your hand to him, and lend to him on pledge sufficient for his need that he lacks.
Rashi elaborates on this by explaining that “The most needy have preference over others more fortunate. The poor of one’s city has preference over the poor of another city. There are people who painfully deliberate whether they should give or not, to which the Torah states you should not act obstinately, and there are people who stretch out their hand ready to give but then close it. Thus, the Torah elaborates you should certainly open your hand to the needy many times, and if they do not want a gift, you are to provide it as a loan. You are not commanded to make him wealthy but if he is starving, you should feed him. If he needs clothing, you should clothe him. If he was once rich and had a horse with a slave walking before him that should be provided to him as well.”
Does this mean we should give until we are impoverished? Absolutely not. However, we cannot turn our backs to those that need us most. In fact according to Talmud, and other rabbinic scholars, we as individuals do not necessarily have to provide for an individual but rather, provide what we can afford without becoming poor to a central group called the Gabbi-Tzedakah; the ones appointed over the community-collected funds to be dispensed to the poor. In order to fulfill the mission of our temples, we give to them to help the community at large, and more specifically, the Jewish community. To do so, according to the Torah, is a mitzvah.
When I was a teenager, there were numerous Jewish families coming out of the Soviet Union whose was obtained by a variety of Jewish organizations, but they had nothing but the clothing on their backs when they arrived to the States. My parents and grandmother helped provide apartments, clothing, and with the help of several temples in our region, food and furnishings to help these families start anew in the United States. One such individual was an avid swimmer, but because he was Jewish, was not permitted to train for the Olympics for Russia. When he arrived in the US, our local university, Youngstown State eagerly accepted him to teach swimming and as I understand went on to compete to represent the US in the Olympics. He did not make it, but was definitely among some of the finest swimmers on the US team in the 1980’s. But his opportunities would have never been possible without the giving of a community.
We expect a lot from our community, and to make it all happen requires a commitment. Giving comes in all forms, from volunteering to help in the community, within the temple committees, the board, or simply providing an Oneg or Kiddush on Shabbat. It also comes in the form of financial giving. This particular mitzvah is hard to do, and even harder to do well. But it’s not called Tzedakah for nothing. As I told my daughter on the day of her Bat Mitzvah, sometimes doing the right thing is the hardest.
Shabbat Shalom.
Parshat Matot-Masei (7/7/2010)
Words Last Forever
In this coming week’s Torah portion, Matot-Masei, there is a story about Nobah of the Manasseh tribe capturing Kenath and its dependencies, and renaming it after himself. There are numerous examples of similar tales in this parsha, but only Nobah appears without reference to anyone or anything specific. This is in line with what our society does today with the concept of “naming opportunities”. Jewish culture is very familiar with “naming opportunities”. We have rooms, walls, and buildings named for individuals. Do a Google search on the internet for “naming opportunities” and you’ll find options for hospitals, museums, research centers, and much more.
It is one thing to rename a place or even add your name to it. It is entirely something different to remove the old name and give it your own, as Nobah does. The Torah is silent on why the renaming occurs. There are examples of other names that appear in the Torah, but they are usually related to an event such as Nachshon ben Aminadav which is the first person to show faith and courage by entering the Sea of Reeds, or Sarah bat Asher who is heralded for her wisdom.
But why Nobah? There is no holiday, battle, or event associated with Nobah’s name in the Torah. Nobah renames a city because he wanted to rename a city. Nobah, or a different translation Novach, means barking.
(It is interesting to note that Novach means barking. This takes the connotation of boasting or bragging which is not being humble. Within the Torah, we are taught it is better to be identified as someone that is good than to brag about it; to be humble. Extending this further it alludes to the notion of "absolute power corrupts absolutely." Tyrants are remembered for their tyranny regardless if they had any positive characteristics. Those individuals that remain humble may indeed have negative characteristics. But when they die, those negative traits are forgotten in favor of the acts of love that they did and provided because it's easier to remember. So, those that brag or boast will simply be forgotten whereas those that love will be remembered.)
To this day, that city has a different name. What this teaches us is that we are not remembered for who we are, but rather, for what impact we make on society. How many people can name the astronauts that landed on the moon? How many people can name someone who helped them in their youth - like a teacher or counselor? What is it that really achieves immortality? A name is only a name. A loving act of kindness, understanding, or even leadership is longer lasting than a name.
In this coming week’s Torah portion, Matot-Masei, there is a story about Nobah of the Manasseh tribe capturing Kenath and its dependencies, and renaming it after himself. There are numerous examples of similar tales in this parsha, but only Nobah appears without reference to anyone or anything specific. This is in line with what our society does today with the concept of “naming opportunities”. Jewish culture is very familiar with “naming opportunities”. We have rooms, walls, and buildings named for individuals. Do a Google search on the internet for “naming opportunities” and you’ll find options for hospitals, museums, research centers, and much more.
It is one thing to rename a place or even add your name to it. It is entirely something different to remove the old name and give it your own, as Nobah does. The Torah is silent on why the renaming occurs. There are examples of other names that appear in the Torah, but they are usually related to an event such as Nachshon ben Aminadav which is the first person to show faith and courage by entering the Sea of Reeds, or Sarah bat Asher who is heralded for her wisdom.
But why Nobah? There is no holiday, battle, or event associated with Nobah’s name in the Torah. Nobah renames a city because he wanted to rename a city. Nobah, or a different translation Novach, means barking.
(It is interesting to note that Novach means barking. This takes the connotation of boasting or bragging which is not being humble. Within the Torah, we are taught it is better to be identified as someone that is good than to brag about it; to be humble. Extending this further it alludes to the notion of "absolute power corrupts absolutely." Tyrants are remembered for their tyranny regardless if they had any positive characteristics. Those individuals that remain humble may indeed have negative characteristics. But when they die, those negative traits are forgotten in favor of the acts of love that they did and provided because it's easier to remember. So, those that brag or boast will simply be forgotten whereas those that love will be remembered.)
To this day, that city has a different name. What this teaches us is that we are not remembered for who we are, but rather, for what impact we make on society. How many people can name the astronauts that landed on the moon? How many people can name someone who helped them in their youth - like a teacher or counselor? What is it that really achieves immortality? A name is only a name. A loving act of kindness, understanding, or even leadership is longer lasting than a name.
Parshat Balak (6/25/2010)
I Can See Clearly Now
Parshat Balak is one of the richest and strangest Torah portions of the entire cycle of weekly readings. Balak is the king of Moab. He has seen the Israelite people grow and prosper on their way to the “Promised Land”, and now they are camped at the edge of Moab. This is where one of the most recited prayers orginates for our liturgy, Mah tovu ohalecha Ya’akov mishkenotecha Yisra’el – How lovely are your tents O Jacob, how fine your encampments Israel. Frightened by the strength of the children of Israel, Balak recruits the famous prophet Balaam to curse the nation of Israel. Balaam agrees to help Balak in any way he can but notes that he will speak only as G-d tells him. Balaam tries three times to curse Israel and each time a blessing comes out of his mouth.
Let’s focus on what happens in between the recruitment of Balaam and his failure to deliver a quality curse. Balaam is traveling to meet with Balak when something interesting happens. Despite the fact that Balaam has received permission from G-d to go to Balak (in Chapter 22:20), G-d seems to change His mind only two verses later.
"But G-d was incensed at his [Balaam's] going; so an angel of the Lord placed himself in his way as an adversary." (Numbers 22:22)
This occurrence in and of itself seems a bit odd. Why would G-d condone Balaam's trip in one instant and then condemn it the next? But the story takes yet another twist. Balaam was riding on his donkey when all of the sudden:
"When the donkey caught sight of the angel of the Lord standing in the way, with his drawn sword in his hand. The donkey swerved from the road and went into the fields; and Balaam beat his donkey to turn her back onto the road." (22:23)
This occurs again. The donkey sees the fiery angel of G-d blocking the path and swerves off the path to try to avoid it. Balaam does not appear to see this angel, and each time he hits the donkey until the donkey veers back onto the desired course.
The third time the donkey sees the angel, the donkey lies down and stops moving. This infuriates Balaam, who begins beating the donkey. And then something strange happens; the donkey talks. She asks Balaam, "What have I done to you that you have beaten me these three times?" Perhaps even more strange is the fact that Balaam responds to the donkey as if it were normal that the donkey spoke to him. Balaam responds that the donkey has embarrassed him so much that if he had a sword he would kill the donkey on the spot.
Obviously the donkey is very upset by this and puts Balaam in his place by saying, "Look, I am the donkey that you have been riding all along until this day! Have I been in the habit of doing this to you?" Of course, Balaam can only sheepishly respond "no," and then he sees the angel for the first time and truly understands his error. Rabbis teach that the reason Balaam could not see the angel is because G-d had complete control over Balaam’s sight and would only let him see when it was appropriate.
There is much that can be said about the story of Balaam and his donkey and many questions that need to be answered. Maimonides, a medieval Jewish philosopher, suggests that the entire incident was a prophetic vision, and none of it really happened.
Nachmanides, also a medieval commentator, suggests that the donkey did in fact talk to Balaam to remind him and future readers that G-d can control even a human's most basic functions. The ability to speak is something that G-d can give even to a donkey, and if G-d can give speech to a donkey then G-d can take speech away from humans.
The Sforno, a Renaissance-era Bible commentator, takes a different approach. He suggests that the story is really about paying attention to signs. The behavior of the donkey should have been a sign to Balaam that what he was about to do was not good in the eyes of G-d.
However, at its most basic level this story of Balaam and his donkey is about two very important things. First and foremost, it is about the power and importance of words. Words have the ability to build up or break down, to heal or to hurt, to bless or to curse. The fact that Balaam is seemingly unaware of the power he has to hurt people through his words is what infuriates G-d. We are all given permission by G-d to say whatever we wish. The gift of speech and communication is unlike any other gift that G-d has given us, but it is one that must be treated with respect and with the cognizance of the power it has.
Second, this is a story about trust. Balaam is too consumed with being embarrassed in front of the messengers of Balak who are accompanying him on his journey to "listen" to the advice and warnings of one of his most trusted allies. The donkey maybe an animal incapable of speech, perhaps forgotten or taken for granted, but ultimately, the donkey is the only one who can truly see everything that lies in front of her master. The question of who is really the master in this story is an interesting one and leads to one final thought.
In life we can often get stuck on the proverbial high horse and forget that our most trusted companions - and even sometimes the people in our lives who we think cannot possibly see or understand what we are going through - are the people with the clearest vision and the people whom we can trust the most. Not everyone will be called upon in life to be a leader or a prophet like Balaam, but it is important to remember that sometimes the most unlikely of people have the clearest vision and are the most capable of leading us in the right direction.
I wish everyone a Shabbat Shalom, one that is filled with happiness, clarity of vision and trust in those who help you get from one place to the next on your own life journey.
Parshat Balak is one of the richest and strangest Torah portions of the entire cycle of weekly readings. Balak is the king of Moab. He has seen the Israelite people grow and prosper on their way to the “Promised Land”, and now they are camped at the edge of Moab. This is where one of the most recited prayers orginates for our liturgy, Mah tovu ohalecha Ya’akov mishkenotecha Yisra’el – How lovely are your tents O Jacob, how fine your encampments Israel. Frightened by the strength of the children of Israel, Balak recruits the famous prophet Balaam to curse the nation of Israel. Balaam agrees to help Balak in any way he can but notes that he will speak only as G-d tells him. Balaam tries three times to curse Israel and each time a blessing comes out of his mouth.
Let’s focus on what happens in between the recruitment of Balaam and his failure to deliver a quality curse. Balaam is traveling to meet with Balak when something interesting happens. Despite the fact that Balaam has received permission from G-d to go to Balak (in Chapter 22:20), G-d seems to change His mind only two verses later.
"But G-d was incensed at his [Balaam's] going; so an angel of the Lord placed himself in his way as an adversary." (Numbers 22:22)
This occurrence in and of itself seems a bit odd. Why would G-d condone Balaam's trip in one instant and then condemn it the next? But the story takes yet another twist. Balaam was riding on his donkey when all of the sudden:
"When the donkey caught sight of the angel of the Lord standing in the way, with his drawn sword in his hand. The donkey swerved from the road and went into the fields; and Balaam beat his donkey to turn her back onto the road." (22:23)
This occurs again. The donkey sees the fiery angel of G-d blocking the path and swerves off the path to try to avoid it. Balaam does not appear to see this angel, and each time he hits the donkey until the donkey veers back onto the desired course.
The third time the donkey sees the angel, the donkey lies down and stops moving. This infuriates Balaam, who begins beating the donkey. And then something strange happens; the donkey talks. She asks Balaam, "What have I done to you that you have beaten me these three times?" Perhaps even more strange is the fact that Balaam responds to the donkey as if it were normal that the donkey spoke to him. Balaam responds that the donkey has embarrassed him so much that if he had a sword he would kill the donkey on the spot.
Obviously the donkey is very upset by this and puts Balaam in his place by saying, "Look, I am the donkey that you have been riding all along until this day! Have I been in the habit of doing this to you?" Of course, Balaam can only sheepishly respond "no," and then he sees the angel for the first time and truly understands his error. Rabbis teach that the reason Balaam could not see the angel is because G-d had complete control over Balaam’s sight and would only let him see when it was appropriate.
There is much that can be said about the story of Balaam and his donkey and many questions that need to be answered. Maimonides, a medieval Jewish philosopher, suggests that the entire incident was a prophetic vision, and none of it really happened.
Nachmanides, also a medieval commentator, suggests that the donkey did in fact talk to Balaam to remind him and future readers that G-d can control even a human's most basic functions. The ability to speak is something that G-d can give even to a donkey, and if G-d can give speech to a donkey then G-d can take speech away from humans.
The Sforno, a Renaissance-era Bible commentator, takes a different approach. He suggests that the story is really about paying attention to signs. The behavior of the donkey should have been a sign to Balaam that what he was about to do was not good in the eyes of G-d.
However, at its most basic level this story of Balaam and his donkey is about two very important things. First and foremost, it is about the power and importance of words. Words have the ability to build up or break down, to heal or to hurt, to bless or to curse. The fact that Balaam is seemingly unaware of the power he has to hurt people through his words is what infuriates G-d. We are all given permission by G-d to say whatever we wish. The gift of speech and communication is unlike any other gift that G-d has given us, but it is one that must be treated with respect and with the cognizance of the power it has.
Second, this is a story about trust. Balaam is too consumed with being embarrassed in front of the messengers of Balak who are accompanying him on his journey to "listen" to the advice and warnings of one of his most trusted allies. The donkey maybe an animal incapable of speech, perhaps forgotten or taken for granted, but ultimately, the donkey is the only one who can truly see everything that lies in front of her master. The question of who is really the master in this story is an interesting one and leads to one final thought.
In life we can often get stuck on the proverbial high horse and forget that our most trusted companions - and even sometimes the people in our lives who we think cannot possibly see or understand what we are going through - are the people with the clearest vision and the people whom we can trust the most. Not everyone will be called upon in life to be a leader or a prophet like Balaam, but it is important to remember that sometimes the most unlikely of people have the clearest vision and are the most capable of leading us in the right direction.
I wish everyone a Shabbat Shalom, one that is filled with happiness, clarity of vision and trust in those who help you get from one place to the next on your own life journey.
Parshat Nasso (5/21/2010)
(Adapted from GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS - by Benyamin Cohen and Michael Alterman http://www.tfdixie.com/parshat/naso/004.htm)
Ya’er adonay panv elecha vi-chu-neka.
May G-d illuminate his countenance for you and be gracious to you.
This is verse 25 of Chapter 6 in the book of Numbers, which we will read tomorrow morning. It is also the second verse of the Priestly Blessings, which we read together each Shabbat morning.
Our rabbis teach us that every one of us was created "b'tzelem Elokim -- in the image of G-d." Keeping this in mind, we are therefore required to emulate His attributes in every way possible. If that is so, we should take a close look at the above verse to determine how we can relate it's teachings to our own actions.
To begin with, the Mishnah in Pirkei Avot (Ethics of our Fathers) states that Shammai, a Jewish scholar of the 1st century, taught, "Receive everyone with a cheerful face" (1:15). From this simple message, volumes of interpersonal disciplines can be learned. On a basic level, this statement requires us to greet a friend, spouse, or colleague with a friendly smile and a cheerful hello. This applies at all times of the day -- from the harried rush of the morning to the exhausted hours of the evening. This is so important that we see in the Talmud (Tractate Berachot 17a) a story about the great Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai which tells us about his incredibly cordial behavior towards others. The Talmud relates that he always took the initiative to greet others first, not allowing them to get the first word in. Even the lowliest peasant in the marketplace did not stand a chance of avoiding a spirited salutation from the Torah sage.
Let's consider the outcome that can result from a simple hello. When we bump into someone, we are presented with the greatest opportunity to not only make an improvement in their day, but also to unknowingly affect the behaviors and feelings of literally dozens of people; the “Pay it Forward” effect. The electric transfer of happiness from the initial party to the recipient can drastically change his mood, igniting an unbelievable chain reaction. As a result, countless other encounters and events will be affected by the original greeting. Phrases such as "Job well done!" and "Wow, you look nice today!" can make a world of difference in a person's outlook on the day's events.
It is so easy to give out complements to other people, yet so often we selfishly hold back. Why? Are we in a rush? Are we too busy and too important that we can't stop for a moment and recognize the image of G-d in other people as well? If we saw G-d on the street, would we not stop to at least say hello and ask Him how He's doing? We should all realize the critical importance of offering a kind gesture to our neighbor. Try it and see how it works.
Shabbat Shalom
Ya’er adonay panv elecha vi-chu-neka.
May G-d illuminate his countenance for you and be gracious to you.
This is verse 25 of Chapter 6 in the book of Numbers, which we will read tomorrow morning. It is also the second verse of the Priestly Blessings, which we read together each Shabbat morning.
Our rabbis teach us that every one of us was created "b'tzelem Elokim -- in the image of G-d." Keeping this in mind, we are therefore required to emulate His attributes in every way possible. If that is so, we should take a close look at the above verse to determine how we can relate it's teachings to our own actions.
To begin with, the Mishnah in Pirkei Avot (Ethics of our Fathers) states that Shammai, a Jewish scholar of the 1st century, taught, "Receive everyone with a cheerful face" (1:15). From this simple message, volumes of interpersonal disciplines can be learned. On a basic level, this statement requires us to greet a friend, spouse, or colleague with a friendly smile and a cheerful hello. This applies at all times of the day -- from the harried rush of the morning to the exhausted hours of the evening. This is so important that we see in the Talmud (Tractate Berachot 17a) a story about the great Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai which tells us about his incredibly cordial behavior towards others. The Talmud relates that he always took the initiative to greet others first, not allowing them to get the first word in. Even the lowliest peasant in the marketplace did not stand a chance of avoiding a spirited salutation from the Torah sage.
Let's consider the outcome that can result from a simple hello. When we bump into someone, we are presented with the greatest opportunity to not only make an improvement in their day, but also to unknowingly affect the behaviors and feelings of literally dozens of people; the “Pay it Forward” effect. The electric transfer of happiness from the initial party to the recipient can drastically change his mood, igniting an unbelievable chain reaction. As a result, countless other encounters and events will be affected by the original greeting. Phrases such as "Job well done!" and "Wow, you look nice today!" can make a world of difference in a person's outlook on the day's events.
It is so easy to give out complements to other people, yet so often we selfishly hold back. Why? Are we in a rush? Are we too busy and too important that we can't stop for a moment and recognize the image of G-d in other people as well? If we saw G-d on the street, would we not stop to at least say hello and ask Him how He's doing? We should all realize the critical importance of offering a kind gesture to our neighbor. Try it and see how it works.
Shabbat Shalom
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