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Torah Learnings from Genesis
Torah Learnings from Exodus
Torah Learnings from Leviticus
Other Torah Learnings (Such as holidays)
Bo posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/27/12 | Torah Portion: Bo
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 10:1-13:16
January 27, 2012
Did Moses free the Israelites from Egypt, or did the Egyptians expel them? After the 10th and final plague (slaying of the first-born Egyptians), the Torah writes, “The Egyptians urged the [Israelites] on, impatient to have them leave the country, for they said, [if they don’t leave] we’ll all be dead (Exo. 12:33).” Sound familiar? The Israelites must leave Egypt. Why? Because they were deemed responsible for the terrible deaths occurring among the Egyptian population. What about Pharaoh and his courtiers? Don’t they bear some responsibility?
Here is a “new twist” on an old story: Maybe Moses’ great contribution was not the freeing of Israelite slaves, but re-directing their attention after having been blamed for the plagues and expelled from Egypt. Moses’ and God kept their spirits up with the promise of a new land where they would be the captains of their own fate. No longer slaves, but a free people guided by a set of moral/ethical standards. They would enter the “Promised Land” and establish the first Jewish commonwealth. However, as we know too well, this would not be the end of the story.
Since the beginning of the Common Era, Jews have been expelled from almost every European country and, again, from Egypt. Between 1290 c.e. and 1956, Jews were forced out of England, France, Germany, Poland, Italy, Sicily, Lithuania, Spain, Portugal, and Egypt (to name a few!). These were not just a few families, but entire populations. Why were they expelled? During difficult economic times, Jews were blamed for the financial distress, the “Black Plague” pandemic of the 14th century was blamed on the Jews, and so on. Finally, on January 20, 1942, the Nazi leadership decided expulsion was an age-old method proven ineffective. With regard to the Jews, what was needed was a “Final Solution.”
In fact, each previous expulsion was meant as a final solution to the Jewish problem. And each time, the Jew-in the spirit of the exodus from Egypt-took their people, language, literature, and Torah to a new place. The Jew, and his/her message, will not go away!
What is this indestructible message? One of the best-known stories in the Talmud tells of a non-Jew who approached the great sage Hillel and asked him, “Can you summarize all of Judaism for me while I stand on one foot?” Hillel answered, “What you don’t like, don’t do to others. That’s it; the rest is commentary. Now go and study the commentary!” Rabbi Harold Kushner writes, “Hillel understood that the essence of Judaism was not just a matter of obeying God or pleasing God. . . .The essence of Judaism is creating holiness in the way we relate to this world and to the people in it.” To dictators and despots, this can be a dangerous message. Yet, it is this message transmitted in the way a Jew lives, loves, and learns that continues as an “Ohr La’goyim”-a light unto all nations!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayehi posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/06/12 | Torah Portion: Vayehi
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 47:20-50:26
Friday, January 6, 2012
What’s wrong with America? The answer might be found in recent studies comparing the upward mobility of Americans to that of comparable nations. The project, led by Markus Jantti, an economist at a Swedish university, found that “42 percent of American men raised in the bottom fifth of incomes stay there as adults.” The studies conclude that a growing percentage of Americans on the bottom rung of society are raising children unable to move up the ladder of American success. Why?
An article in the New York Times suggests, “One reason for the mobility gap may be the unusually large premiums that American employers pay for college degrees. Since children generally follow their parents educational trajectory, that premium increases the importance of family background and stymies people with less schooling.” Neither of my parents attended college, nor did the parents of many of my friends. Yet, we all are college graduates who pursued graduate degrees in various professions?!
In the concluding Torah portion of the Book of Genesis, Jacob gathers his children and grandchildren to hear his ethical will. Unlike the legal will, which allocates one’s estate to his/her inheritors, an ethical will is a persons hopes, dreams, and expectations for his/her children. Jacob informs each son what he expects from him in the years ahead. “You, O Judah, your brothers shall praise; Your hand shall be on the nape of your foes. .(Gen. 49:8).” He also challenges his children to take stock of their past in pursuing a future. “Reuben, you are my first-born, My might and first fruit of my vigor, Exceeding in rank and exceeding in honor. Unstable as water, you shall excel no longer (Gen. 3-4).” Tough love!
The notion that a child whose parents are less educated and lower on the socio-economic ladder will follow suit does not take into consideration the role of effective parenting. Rabbi Harold Schulweis once told me that a good upbringing is one in which the child is encouraged to succeed the parent. Regardless of my mother’s lack of education, her ethical will was certain I went to the right schools, attended the right summer camps, participated in the synagogue youth groups, and set high goals for myself. I did not follow my parents educational trajectory, but their desire that “my reach should always exceed my grasp.”
If America’s best days are still ahead, then parents have to instill hope and dreams in their children. Teachers educate, but parents inspire.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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New Years' 2012 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/30/11 | New Years’ 2012
December 30, 2011
For Jews, Rosh Hashanah (Jewish new year) is a time to reflect on personal growth and accomplishment during the past year. The secular calendar new year (January 1st) is a time to reflect on the events and happenings in the world we live. In this spirit, here is what I think-there is too much noise!
Pico Iyer, in an opinion piece appearing in the New York Times, writes: “I noticed that those who part with $2,285 a night to stay in a cliff-top room at the Post Ranch Inn in Big Sur pay partly for the privilege of not having a TV in their rooms; the future of travel, I’m reliably told, lies in “black-hole resorts,” which charge high prices precisely because you can’t get online in their rooms.” She goes on to note, “In barely one generation we’ve moved from exulting in the time-saving devices that have so expanded our lives to trying to get away from them-often in order to make more time.”
Did you know?. . .the average American spends at least 8 1/2 hours a day in front of a screen. . .the average teenager sends or receives 75 text messages a day. Couple these intrusions in our lives with the noise they produce. Each morning I go to the gym. In the “old days,” one could think about the day ahead (or the one just past) while riding a stationary bike, lifting weights, or using an exercise machine. Today, it is necessary to work out in the presence of at least twenty television screens (each turned to a different channel) with background music from Lady Gaga and Metallica, then returning to the locker room for a shower, shave, and three TV screens of ESPN Sportscenter. And then my day begins! Not surprising is the growing number of people taking up Yoga.
Ms. Iyer has learned to deal with the increasing noise of daily life by going to a Benedictine hermitage several times a year. She writes, “I don’t attend services when I’m there, and I’ve never meditated, there or anywhere; I just take walks and read and lose myself in the stillness.” I try to do the same. Each year I visit family and friends in the Pacific Northwest. The trip from Los Angeles to Seattle is about 2 hours by air and 3 days by car. I choose to drive. Usually I drive alone. Like Pico Iyer, I find the hours on the road calming, still, and reinvigorating. I can think without the incessant intrusion of noise produced by the technology that promised, in the words of General Electric’s former slogan-“We Bring Good Things To Life.” In 2003, G.E. decided to retire the slogan. Interesting?!
I am by no means denying the importance of today’s technological advancements. In more ways than not they have improved our lives and brought the world closer together. At the same time, we have allowed them to intrude upon our sacred human identity. Being human means being able to make choices; being able to set aside time to re-discover and re-invigorate our “self.” A few days alone in a car doesn’t do it. Did I mention Shabbat (the Sabbath)? A special day of “introspection, meditation, and Thou” each week.
My resolution for 2012-Less noise and more discovery! Happy New Year!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Miketz posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/23/11 | Torah Portion: Miketz
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 41:1-44:17
December 23, 2011
The story of Joseph occupies the final 13 chapters of the Book of Genesis. Joseph, not God, is the center of attention in this dramatic narrative. In fact, God does not intercede at any point in the story, but remains noticeably in the wings!
Joseph is both easy to identify with and difficult to understand. He angers his brothers with dreams of grandiose self-importance causing them to toss him into a pit only to be sold down to Egypt as a slave. Still, he dreams. In an Egyptian jail he becomes known as an interpreter of dreams and is brought before Pharaoh. Pharaoh becomes so impressed with his prophetic acumen that he makes Joseph his chief advisor. As Joseph rises in the hierarchy of Egyptian culture he takes on an Egyptian name (Zaphnat Paneah), marries the daughter of an Egyptian priest (Asnat) and, by all appearances, adopts the Egyptian life style. Joseph, the first assimilated Jew! Or is he?
The story of a Jew making it in the non-Jewish world by trading his identity for another is an all-too familiar one. For Joseph, the story does not end here. He and his wife give birth to two sons. They are named Ephraim and Manasseh. Both names are Hebrew, not Egyptian. At the most critical moment in his life, the birth of children, Joseph convinced his wife their children must be raised as Jews. Despite appearances, Joseph had not abandoned his people (even though his brothers had abandoned him) or his heritage. He might have been known as “Zapnat Paneah” to Egyptians, but he would always be known to us as “Joseph.”
Joseph’s message to the modern Jew is “you can have your cake and eat it, too!” One can enjoy the pleasures and privileges of America without compromising their identification as a Jew. Joseph was put in charge of distributing food during a time of famine in Egypt and Canaan. His brothers, believing Joseph had perished, came to Egypt to bring food back to Canaan. After revealing himself to his brothers, Joseph also informed Pharaoh of his continued allegiance to his family and Jewish heritage. This Pharaoh understood and made a place for Joseph’s family in one of the finer areas of Egypt. We live in a country that also understands who we are. The challenging question before us today is, do we?
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Hanukkah 5772 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/16/11 | Hanukkah
December 16, 2011
The Hanukkah ritual is simple: One lights candles each evening for eight nights. Each night an additional candle is added to the Hanukkah menorah (candle holder). The observance relates to a battle for religious freedom occurring in the year 164 b.c.e., between a small army of Jews, known as the Maccabees, and the Syrian occupiers who controlled Jerusalem and the ancient Temple. The war ran for several years, but at a critical moment, the Syrian military leadership found its attention being drawn away by other armies on the move against Syria. They found it in their best interest to make a truce with the Maccabees. The Jews once again took control of the ancient Temple. They thoroughly cleansed it and re-dedicated it to God and the Jewish people. In the process, they discovered only one small jar of oil with which to light the Temple menorah. The miracle of Hanukkah occurred when the oil lasted not just one night, but eight.
The ancient rabbis posed an interesting question: Each night during Hanukkah you are lighting the menorah and reciting a blessing in recognition of the miracle of the oil. If there was perceived to be just enough oil for one night, why recite the blessing on the first night. What was the miracle? After all, on the first night there was sufficient oil present, and its burning was natural enough. One commentator suggests there are several types of miracles. There is the miracle of Creation when “something” was created out of “nothing,” and there is this miracle when “something is created out of “something.” Jewish tradition defines modern day miracles as just that, something created out of something.
Rabbi Harold Schulweis writes, “We cannot often in our lives create or alter the “given,” change the diseases, accidents, misfortunes dealt out to us. We can, more often than we expect, make something out of them, create something out of something. . .The triumph of the human spirit over tragedy is a divine-human encounter, a creation of something of transcendent meaning formed out of something common.”
Hanukkah is a reminder that we-humankind-are empowered to make and discover our own miracles. By rising up to meet the challenges of life with a triumphal spirit and a giving heart we can bring the “miracle of the oil,” light, into the darkest recesses of human existence.
In 1920, Harry Dixon Loes wrote a children’s gospel song that later emerged as an anthem of the Civil Right movement in the ‘60’s: This Little Light Of Mine. It could easily be a part of the Hanukkah liturgy; the hope and prayer that we carry forth the light and “Let It Shine, Let It Shine, Let It Shine”.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayishlach posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/09/11 | Torah Portion: Vayishlach
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 32:4-36:43
December 9, 2011
“Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. When he saw that he had not prevailed against him, he wrenched Jacob’s hip at its socket, so that the socket of his hip was strained as he wrestled with him (Gen. 32:25-26).”
What better metaphor for life than a “wrestling match.” As young children, we wrestled with “good & bad”, “right & wrong.” As adolescents, these same struggles were now informed by a more refined image of “self.” As adults, we are challenged to replace the vocabulary of youth with the more sophisticated concepts of “ethical & unethical”, moral & immoral.” The mature adult continues the struggle, but learns to effectively balance “selfish & selfless.”
Jacob’s youth was all about “me.” What will make “me” happier, make “me” richer, make me “greater.” With the goal being the satisfaction of personal need, it was not difficult for Jacob to justify cheating his brother Esau out of his birthright and later his blessing as first born. Even before Machiavelli, Jacob lived by the philosophy that “the ends justify the means.” Only after years of cheating, and having been cheated, does he experience the existential loneliness of “self.” Rabbi Brad Artson comments, “At night, left alone, Jacob suddenly finds himself wrestling with someone whom he cannot identify. Is this a person or an angel, or is it the embodiment of his own doubts and failings?”
I am always wary of religious fanatics; those who profess the truth, and nothing but the truth. For them there is no longer a struggle, but a way; the only way. True religion does not teach “the” way, but provides the necessary direction to help us along our path. The directions consist of a code of ethics, a concern for all God’s creations, and a course of rites and regimens to discipline and inform our actions. To wrestle with God is to put in play the moral/ethical struggle suggested by the ancient Rabbi Hillel who asked, “If I am not for myself, who will be? But, if I am only for myself, what sort of person am I?” With this we wrestle our entire lives.
Jacob finally attained maturity. He understood his personal needs and wants were circumscribed by those of others. He also realized this moment of epiphany, a wrestling match with God, or perhaps himself, was only the first of many to come. In the end, one’s life is measured less by what one did, then the satisfying struggle to make it happen.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayetze posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/02/11 | Torah Portion: Vayetze
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 28:10-32:3
December 2, 2011
“Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the older one was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel. Leah had weak eyes; Rachel was shapely and beautiful. Jacob loved Rachel. .(Gen. 29:16-18).”
To this point, the life of Jacob can be described in one word: deceitful. He cheated his twin brother Esau out of his birthright, and later disguised himself as Esau to deceive his father into giving him his brother’s blessing. Fearing a brutal response from Esau, Jacob fled to his Uncle Laban’s home. There, he first cast his eyes upon Rachel. In a world where marriage was typically an economic arrangement, Jacob expresses an emotional attachment to Rachel. Literally, love at first sight! For one whose early years were distinguished by deceit and superficiality, his response is not surprising.
What convinced Jacob he must have Rachel? And, why not her older sister Leah? The answer: “Leah had weak eyes; Rachel was shapely and beautiful.” In a superficial world, outer appearances always trump inner beauty. In the end, Jacob-the deceiver- is, himself, deceived by Laban. As Jacob lifts his wife’s veil beneath the wedding canopy, he discovers he has married Leah, not Rachel.
The Social Issues Research Center of Great Britain did a study on the influence of appearance in everyday life. Their findings suggested 1) attractive children are more popular, 2) attractive applicants have a better chance of getting a job, and 3) in court, attractive people are found guilty less often. In summary, all their research showed we react more favorably to physically attractive people.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to reach the above conclusions. Take a look at what appears on television. Have you ever seen a less-than-handsome bachelor or slightly overweight bachelorette featured on these matchmaking shows? Today’s society is infected by superficiality. What is most important in life is how you look. The Plastic surgery industry has gone beyond repairing bodily injury to perfecting on God’s creation. The SIRC research also found, “female dissatisfaction with appearance - poor body-image - begins at a very early age. Human infants begin to recognize themselves in mirrors at about two years old. Female humans begin to dislike what they see only a few years later.”
It is no crime to be physically attractive, but if that is the goal, it is as shallow as Jacob’s early life. The ancient rabbinic text “Ethics of Our Ancestors” teaches, “Do not judge a bottle of wine by it’s appearance, but by its contents.” When we speak of those who have shaped this world over the centuries, we seldom refer to their physical appearance but to their deeds and actions; their true essence.
In 1981, the late filmmaker Blake Edwards produced a movie re-make of Tarzan. The movie featured the “shapely and attractive” Bo Derek in the role of Jane. In a critical scene, Jane and her father are taken captive by a tribe of African cannibals. As the natives bathe Jane in preparation for their cannibalistic ritual, her father says to her, “Remember Jane, you are not of the flesh, but of the spirit.” The movie maker reminds his audience that Jane (Bo Derek) might be a “10” in appearance, but that is not who she really is; she is much more.
Leah might have possessed “weak eyes”, but Jacob’s were weaker.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Chayei Sarah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/18/11 | Torah Portion: Chayei Sarah
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 23:1-25:18
November 18, 2011
Today, the least talked about subject from synagogue pulpits is interfaith marriage (formerly referred to as “intermarriage”). Noted Jewish historian and demographer, Jack Wertheimer, notes, “Not long ago, a Manhattan rabbi stunned his congregants by informing them that the future of the Jewish people would be secured not through trips to Israel, not through the battle against anti-Semitism, and not through the continued upward mobility of Jews, but in the bedroom. What shocked his sophisticated Upper East Side audience had nothing to do with his allusion to sex; these days, it is perfectly acceptable to speak in public about intimate behavior. What is not permissible in polite Jewish company is an allusion to the decisions people make about their own family lives, or to the impact of those decisions on the ability of the Jewish community to sustain itself.”
The Torah gives a detailed narrative of Abraham’s effort to find the right wife for his son, Isaac. Living in a land dominated by a Canaanite population, Abraham knows the future of God’s promise to make him the father of a great nation rests upon Isaac’s continued commitment to this vision and to his clan. Abraham’s concern is so great that he sends his servant, and not his son, to find the appropriate mate among the members of his brother’s family. He compels his servant to take an oath that he “will not take a wife for [Abraham’s] son from the Canaanites among whom [he] dwells, but will go to the land of [Abraham’s] birth and get a wife for Isaac (Gen. 24:3-4).” Abraham’s concern is not about the worthiness of Canaanite people, but the cultural and spiritual differences that exist.
Before 1965, the intermarriage rate for Jews was 10%. By 1985, a demographic study found the rate to be 52%. What changed during this time? Were Jews less interested in being Jewish? Maybe so, but the years between 1965 and 1985 also marked an increasing acceptance of the Jew as an American. Barriers that previously prevented Jews from living in certain neighborhoods, attending certain schools, practicing medicine in certain hospitals, began to fall. The watershed moment of complete acceptance came in 2000 when an observant Jew (Sen. Joseph Lieberman) was nominated by a major political party to be Vice-president of the United States. Today, a Jew can live anywhere, be a part of any profession, and move freely through American society. With this openness comes increased involvement with the majority non-Jewish culture. In 1965, Jews primarily lived, worked, and socialized within their own parochial community. By 1985, their circles of involvement had greatly increased and, so to, the intermarriage rate.
Why marry a Jew? Jews need Jews to be Jewish. It is difficult enough to build a marriage and raise a healthy family. To complicate it with different belief systems and cultural norms, that too often come into competition with one another, can make difficult almost insurmountable. A number of non-Jewish spouses make the decision to convert, but an even larger number of Jews in an intermarriage decide to “drop out.”
The question we are left with is the same question Abraham had to confront- “Why be Jewish?” Rabbi David Wolpe’s answer to this question is, “Because Judaism can teach us how to deepen our lives, to improve the world, to join with others who have the same lofty aims. Judaism can teach us spiritual and moral mindfulness, a way of living in this world that promotes joy inside of us and also encourages ethical action. But finally, the answer to why be Jewish must reside in the mystery of each seeking soul, trying to find its place with others and with God.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Veteran's Day 2011 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/10/11 | Veteran’s Day
November 10, 2011
No one is more anti-war than our military. I learned this lesson serving as a U.S. Navy chaplain. Many years earlier, in a speech delivered in Ottawa (Canada), former President and General Dwight D. Eisenhower said, “I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, and its stupidity.”
General Douglas MacArthur in an address to the U.S. Congress in 1951 stated, “I know war as few other men now living know it, and nothing to me is more revolting. I have long advocated its complete abolition, as its very destructiveness on both friend and foe has rendered it useless as a method of settling international disputes.”
Still, we insist on fighting. Since World War II, the United States has unsuccessfully waged war in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan. All we have to show for these efforts are 100,000 U.S. Casualties. . .and they all wore uniforms.
The average age of those fighting our wars is 19. These young men-barely old enough to vote and too young to drink-don’t start wars nor decide policy. Their job is to answer the call placing them in harm’s way. They make the ultimate sacrifice for both wise and unwise policy decisions.
Our country observes two occasions of remembrance-Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day. Memorial Day is devoted to the memory of those who gave their lives in the service of this country. Veteran’s Day is for all who have served in the U.S. Military-living and dead. Rabbi Arnold Resnikoff, a former military chaplain, offers the following prayer on the occasion of Veteran’s Day 2011:
Almighty God,
As we gather here, we recall
that more than 90 years ago - in 1918
-on the 11th day of the 11th month - at the 11th hour of that day --
an armistice was signed
to end the war-
the war to end all wars, we said
and yet, other wars would come
and others would be called to serve
-so Armistice Day became Veterans Day,
a time to recognize and remember
those who would face new horrors
keeping peace
or answering the call to fight
O Lord,
we know too well
there have been times
when we have not honored those
who honored us
through sacrifice and service
in wars our nation chose to fight
today we pray that we have learned
to offer thanks
to show respect - and gratitude
to all our veterans - alongside those who serve our nation still
and to their families, too
today we pray
to mourn our dead
to help our wounded
to praise our heroes,
and to welcome home our troops
- with open arms -
when they return
we pray you give them strength
and grant us strength, as well-
- to keep our faith
that one day
-thanks in part - large part - to the courage of those we honor with our words today -
one day, we'll beat our swords to plowshares
and war will be no more
...and let us say, amen
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Lech Lecha posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/03/11 | Torah Portion: Lech Lecha
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 12:1-17:27
November 3, 2011
Life is a journey. Discovering fulfillment and meaning means a willingness to take the “road less traveled.” Abraham is given a simple command by God: Lech Lecha-literally, “Get out of here! Go forth from your father’s house to the land that I will show you (Gen. 12:1).” Abraham’s response? “Abram went forth as the Lord had commanded him (Gen. 12:4).” In this risk-filled act of compliance was Judaism born.
Whether it be the journey of an individual or an entire people, no world-changing event or act of greatness has ever occurred standing in place. This past week, Dorothy Rodham, a woman who overcame years of struggle to become a powerful influence on the life and career of her daughter, Hillary Rodham Clinton, passed away at the age of 92. Dorothy’s story was a journey that can be told of any number of people in our time and former generations.
Her obituary in the New York Times notes, “Her childhood had been Dickensian. She was abandoned by dysfunctional, divorced parents at the age of 8 in Chicago, sent unsupervised on a cross-country train with a younger sister to live with unwelcoming grandparents in California and, at age 14, escaped into the adult world of the Depression as a $3-a-week nanny.”
On her own, she attended high school and graduated as a top student. Needing to work to survive, college was out of the question. She moved back to Chicago and became a secretary. After years of lonely toil, she married and raised three children. Her daughter, Hillary, said, “I’m still amazed at how my mother emerged from her lonely early life as such an affectionate and levelheaded woman.” How amazing is it? From all appearances, she was a woman who did not allow fear or self-pity to cloud her vision or disrupt her journey. Dorothy would later stand with her daughter as she took the Senate oath of office and she was by Hillary’s side when she began her campaign for the presidency and when she finally bowed out.
Abraham’s journey would see his first-born son banished from his home because of Sara’s jealousy, his nephew Lot taken captive, his son Isaac almost sacrificed on Mt. Moriah. Still, he journeyed on. Abraham did not fear nor lose faith. He followed his passion, gave meaning to his life, became a role model to his children and children’s children, and a father to the Jewish people.
Today it is our turn to hear the command and to go forth. Lech Lecha!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Noah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/28/11 | Torah Portion: Noah
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 6:9-11:32
October 28, 2011
The God of the Book of Genesis is a personal God; a caring and concerned parent. With the creation of man and woman, God-like any new parent-is full of joy, hope, and expectation. But, as Rabbi Norman Cohen writes, “Many parents euphoria when a child is born quickly gives way to frustration and even disappointment. Inexplicably, their little angel develops into a terror in a matter of a few short years! So, too, God!”
Disappointed with how humankind responded to the new world, God decides to destroy and build anew. He would bring a flood upon earth and depend upon one person to protect a remnant of creation in an ark. Enter Noah, a man who the Bible describes as “a righteous man, blameless in his age. Noah walked with God (Gen. 6:9).” Rabbi Shlomo ben Yitzchaki (10th century Bible scholar) comments: “This verse can be understood in two ways: 1) If he could be a righteous one in such a [wicked] generation, imagine how good he could be amidst a generation of good people or 2) sure, in that generation he could be a righteous one, but in the generation of Abraham, Noah would not be worthy of mention at all.” Was Noah such a good person or just lucky to be living when he was?
Rabbi Simchah Bunem of Przysucha used to teach that each person in Israel needs to designate two pockets. In one pocket there would be the verse from Genesis 18:27- “I am dust and ashes.” And in the other, the passage in the Talmud, “For my sake was the world created.” According to need, the person should draw out the message from either pocket.
When one’s ego becomes inflated by flattery and praise, reach into the pocket containing the verse “I am dust and ashes,” and when lacking in self-esteem and self-image, reach into the other pocket reminding oneself of the verse “For my sake was the world created.”
At the time of the flood, when wickedness and evil defined humankind, it was important for Noah to remind himself that he was capable of rising above the immorality of the masses. For his sake was the world created. Had he lived in the time of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, he would have to remind himself that as great as he may think he is (privileged to “walk with God”), he was still of dust and ashes.
What’s good for Noah is no doubt a good lesson for us, as well.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Beresheet posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/21/11 | Torah Portion: Beresheet
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 1:1-6:8
October 21, 2011
This Saturday morning, Jews all over the world will begin, again, a new cycle of Torah reading with the clarion call of Creation: “In the beginning God created the Heavens and the Earth (Gen. 1:1).”
God’s first act of creation: “Let there be light; and there was light (Gen. 1:3).” Lurking beneath the surface of the text is a question that has troubled philosophers and theologians for ages. What was there before there was light? The philosophers Philo and Augustine, and even verses from the Qur’an, state emphatically “nothing.” God created his world out of nothing. Their conclusion remains confusing, especially with regard to the next verse in Genesis: “God saw that the light was good, and God separated the light from the darkness (1:4).”
Where did “darkness” come from? We are only told that God created light. This suggests that darkness existed even before God began the acts of creation. It was not out of nothing this world was created, but out of darkness. Furthermore, God did not create darkness, rather in response to darkness God first created light. Rabbi Menahem Creditor of Berkeley, CA writes, “We are afraid of the dark and always have been. God didn't like it either. We name our fear every night when, during evening prayers, we say "You, God, who brings the day and brings the night," attributing to our Source of Comfort the power to bring the next day, and to thereby banish the scary darkness.”
As humans, we possess a primordial fear of darkness. We see within it evil, misfortune, death, and ignorance. We overcome the advantage of night by creating artificial forms of light to protect us until the dawn.
A wonderfully profound commentary in the Eitz Hayim Pentateuch states: “Light, the first thing God created, can be seen as symbolizing Judaism’s commitment to clarity rather than mystery, to openness rather than concealment, to study rather than blind faith. Light, God’s first creation, becomes a symbol of God’s Presence, in the fire of the Burning Bush and the revelation at Sinai.”
Before God could complete his design for the world, he first had to bring light into an all-consuming darkness. Before humankind can bring peace, prosperity, and happiness to a world sorely in need (and, in doing so, complete God’s act of creation), we must first shine light into those still dark corners of existence.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Sukkot 5772 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/14/11 | Sukkot
October 14, 2011
America has always been different than other nations. Over two centuries, America has represented innovation, know-how, creative spirit, and an almost innate drive to make things better. Some of the greatest inventions of the 19th & 20th century came from Americans. From Thomas Edison’s light bulb to Jonas Salk’s polio vaccine to Steve Jobs Macintosh computer. Americans just seem to be forward-thinking. Our unique form of democracy allowed for a Civil Rights movement that cleared away the last vestiges of African American slavery, an Anti-War protest that ended the conflict in Vietnam, and an environmental movement that gave birth to the Environmental Protection Agency leading to important protections of air, water, and natural resources. It’s in regard to environmental concern that I find myself asking, “What has happened to the America I once knew?”
In the last ten years, we have witnessed a polar ice cap that is melting at an unprecedented rate. Hurricanes, tsunamis, droughts, wild fires, and other natural disasters are occurring more often, and in greater intensity, than at almost any other time in recorded history. The preponderance of scientific evidence emphatically concludes that these climatic changes are the product of global warming. The rapid increase of this phenomena is the result, in part, of human disregard for the environment. One would hope a nation as advanced as America would be in the forefront-through political and non-political means-of actively protecting the environment. Sadly, we remain divided. While the Titanic takes on water, we argue whether global warming does or does not exist; whether our mantra should be “save the earth” or “drill, baby, drill!”
Alas, Judaism-a 4,000 year old tradition-provides a glimmer of hope in the annual celebration of Sukkot. This 7-day festival requires Jews to leave the artificial comfort of their home and build a temporary tent-like dwelling with four less-than-sturdy walls (often just a fabric or canvas stretched between two-by-fours), and a roof made entirely of branches cut from trees. Then, the Jew is asked to spend the holiday in this booth, or “Sukkah.” While some actually eat and sleep in the Sukkah, most just eat their meals there. The Sukkah, itself, is decorated with hanging fruit and other products symbolizing the fall harvest. For 7-days the Jew is compelled to turn his/her attention away from the creature comforts of modernity, and learn to re-appreciate God’s world; the only one we have.
The ancient rabbis taught in a Midrash (Jewish legend), “When God created the first human beings, God led them around the Garden of Eden and said: Look at my works! See how beautiful they are, how excellent! Take care not to spoil or destroy My world, for if you do, there will be no one to repair it after you” Midrash Rabbah, commentary on Ecclesiastes 7:13. One cannot observe the celebration of Sukkot and not feel responsibility to the precious and holy gift of Earth.
As Jews, and Americans, we need to remind ourselves of our traditions of innovation, know-how, and concern for life as engrained in the Torah and the U.S. Constitution.
In the spirit of Sukkot, I offer the following prayer authored by COEJL (Coalition On The Environment And Jewish Life):
For the sake of the earth, for the sake of generations to come, and for the sake of all the waters and creatures and plants,
For the sake of all who are hungry, for the sake of thankfulness, and for the sake of our own souls,
May we have the wisdom and courage to protect and restore, and not diminish, the integrity of creation.
May we always open our hearts and our hands to share the bounty of the Earth with all who are in need.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Yom Kippur 5722 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/07/11 | Yom Kippur
October 7, 2011
All great religions offer believers a chance to start, again. A Christian who has “seen the light” becomes Born Again. The pious Jew who discovers his faith becomes a Baal Tshuva-Master of Repentance. A faith in God means there is forgiveness; there are second chances.
Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, compels the Jew to perform introspection; to come to terms with moral/ethical failures, personal hurt and pain, and acts of self-destruction. It is one day to be born again, become a baal tshuva, seek forgiveness and reconciliation. It all begins with a faith in God.
Rabbi David Wolpe asks, “Why does faith matter? Love of this world, of one another, is the sole hope in an age when we can destroy the world many times over. There is no power that is only good, that cannot be twisted for evil. Religion is hardly an exception. But while there are many things that can doom us, only one thing can save us. Faith. Not blind or bigoted faith, but faith that pushes us to be better, to give more of ourselves, to see glimmers of transcendence scattered throughout our lives. Such faith is both an achievement and a gift: It is an achievement of seeking, questioning, yearning, reasoning, hoping, and it is a gift of God, who fashioned this world, whose goodness sustains it and whose teachings could save it if only we-believers and deniers both-would listen, would love.”
The Jew believes on Yom Kippur the world stands in the balance. An individual decision to make one’s life part of a greater calling collectively can change the course of the universe. Replacing indifference and apathy with a simple act of kindness can tip this metaphorical balance in favor of goodness and life. This is certainly the meaning in the words of Mother Teresa who said:
“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.
If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway.
For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”
G’mar Chatima Tova-May we all be sealed for a year of happiness, health, and peace.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Rosh Hashanah 5772 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/23/11 | Rosh Hashanah
September 23, 2011
(Rosh Hashanah is celebrated this year from Wednesday evening, September 28-Friday, September 30)
Rosh Hashanah-the Jewish new year-is a celebration of the creation of the world. It is about celebrating our spiritual beginnings, and beginning, again, ourselves. On Rosh Hashanah, one pursues renewal through three separate acts-Tshuvah (repenting), Tefilla (prayer), and Tzedakah (gifts of money).
The word Tshuvah (repentance) literally means “returning.” Rabbi Nina Beth Cardin reminds us, “we are not stuck, our mistakes are not irreparable, we can turn and find a way out of the mess we made.” Before improving upon one’s shortcomings, one must recognize that, in fact, they exist. The first step in Tshuvah is admitting to moral and ethical failure. Rosh Hashanah compels the Jew to perform introspection; to confront behavior, both outwardly hurtful and self-destructive; to probe the depths of one’s consciousness for the painful acts buried deep within.
Rabbi Cardin notes, “Through acts of Tshuvah, we create patterns of a renewed self. Through acts of Tefilla (Prayer), we blend those patterns into an extended tapestry of self, God and community.” The prayers of Rosh Hashanah remind the Jew that our lives, and those of the community, are in the hands of God- “For we are the clay, and You are the potter; we are the sheep, and You are the shepherd. We are Your people, and You are our God.” Humankind is not the hub of the universe. Everything that happens is not all about “us”. The earth, and its bounty, do not exist for the sake of the human race. Through prayer, the Jew realigns his/her values and priorities for the coming year.
Finally, Judaism teaches that we are all fashioned “in the image of God.” Every human being has an innate right to dignity and a responsibility to treat others in the same manner. This means the “have nots” in society have a claim upon the “haves.” Tzedakah (acts of financial giving) is the way a Jew gives back to the world for the goodness they have been blessed with. Rabbi Cardin writes, “[Tzedakah] reminds us that our own fortune is tied to the fortunes of our fellow humans and to all Creation.”
When each individual commits him/herself to this three-fold act of renewal, he/she joins a growing community of people celebrating the creation of the world through actions that make this world a better place for all people.
May the coming Jewish new year inscribe and seal all of us for a year of happiness, health, and peace.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Ki Tavo posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/16/11 | Torah Portion: Ki Tavo
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 26:1-29:8
September 16, 2011
One trait that unites all humanity is our unique differences. Each of us possess talents, abilities, and skills that set us apart from others. The root cause of much unhappiness is the desire to become something we’re not. An ancient rabbinic story is told of the final hours of 1st century b.c.e scholar, Reb Zusya. He laid on his death bed surrounded by students. One student noticed tears welling up in Zusya’s eyes. He asked him, “Reb Zusya, why are you crying? You, who have been like a Moses in your time, what have you to fear of death?” In one of his final breaths Zusya replied, “God will not ask me, ‘Zusya, why were you like Moses?,’ rather ‘Zusya, why were you not more like Zusya?!’
The Torah states, “The Lord will establish you as His holy people, as He swore to you, if you keep the commandments of the Lord your God and walk in His ways. And all the peoples of the earth shall see that the Lord’s name is proclaimed over you (Deut. 28: 9-10).”
As unique as each person is, so, too, are all peoples. The Jewish people are a collection of individuals who, together, are defined by God as a holy people bearing the special responsibility of modeling a moral/ethical lifestyle for a world in search of wholeness. In describing the reality of the Jewish people, the late Professor Abraham Joshua Heschel called them “messengers who have forgotten the message.”
The teachings of Judaism have had a profound influence. Over the centuries, those enslaved or oppressed have cried the words of Moses, “Let my people go!” People seeking freedom from tyranny have declared the words of Torah, “Proclaim liberty throughout the land, and to all its inhabitants thereof.” Rabbi Brad Artson writes, “Unexceptional as an entity in so many other areas, the Jews are a rich and fertile source of spirituality and religion for all humanity and ourselves.”
A messenger without a message is hardly a messenger! The Jew bears the special responsibility of learning the message and transmitting it-by example-to a world sorely in need of moral/ethical guidance.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Ki Tetze posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/09/11 | Torah Portion: Ki Tetze
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 21:10-25:19
September 9, 2011
Maybe government should turn to the Torah for advice on healing an ailing economy and putting people back to work. In the Book of Deuteronomy it is written, “You shall not deduct interest from loans to your countrymen, whether in money or food or anything else that can be deducted as interest. . (Deut. 23:20)”
The Eitz Hayim Chumash notes, “There is no evidence for a money market of any significance in ancient Israel or evidence that solvent Israelites commonly borrowed for commercial or other purposes.” Other mentions of the practice of interest-free loans in the Torah (Exodus 22 and Leviticus 25) refer to the borrower as impoverished. Clearly, this practice was a form of economic stimulus during difficult times.
This practice continues in our own day. It is called the “Hebrew Free Loan Society” and almost all Jewish communities possess one. They are commonly a group of well-to-do Jews who raise funds from the wealthier members of the community and make available interest-free start-up loans to other Jews without the necessary means to start their own business.
One such example is the Jewish Hebrew Free Loan Association of Los Angeles. In 1904, a small group of businessmen met in the thriving city of Los Angeles to establish an organization to grant loans to the needy without interest or any other charges. Over one hundred years ago, loans were granted to help buy a sewing machine or a pushcart for fruits and vegetables. During World War II, JFLA was instrumental in helping thousands of families get a fresh start in the US; after the Watts riots in 1965, JFLA assisted businesses in rebuilding; in the late 1980's, with the rising costs of higher education, JFLA created the first of its many student loan funds; and in 1994, in the wake of the Northridge earthquake, JFLA granted cash loans to those who had to vacate their homes or who could not access bank accounts. Currently, JFLA grants approximately 1,200 loans per year, there is more than $7 million in interest-free loans circulating throughout the community, and JFLA maintains a repayment rate greater than 99%.
The idea is simple: When others succeed, so do we. Investing in the community’s economic future through stimulus spending (interest-free loans) puts people back to work which, in turn, strengthens the fabric of society and eventually provides a greater good for all. Best of all, the net cost to the community is zero. All the funds are raised from the wealthier members of the community who willingly understand their future is intertwined with that of the less well-off.
Makes sense to me. Then, again, I’m only a rabbi!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Shoftim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/02/11 | Torah Portion: Shoftim
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 16:18-21:9
September 2, 2011
The following story is told about Rabbi Shmelke of Nikolsberg (Poland). Rabbi Shmelke was a kabbalist/mystic who lived in 18th century Poland and Galicia: “When he served as rabbi in a community, he would always hang his walking stick and his knapsack on the wall of the synagogue.”
“When the officers of the congregation would ask him, ‘Rabbi, why do you do this?’ he would reply, ‘I have no favorites; I don’t bend the rules; and I don’t show deference to anyone. It will be what it will be. Let the law pierce the mountain-let justice run its course. And if one of you is displeased, I am always prepared to resign as your rabbi, to pick up my staff and my knapsack.”
The Book of Deuteronomy clearly states, “You shall appoint magistrates and officials for your tribes. .You shall not judge unfairly. . .Justice, justice shall you pursue. . .(Deut. 16:18, 19, 20).” Rabbi Shmelke took his position of communal/spiritual leader seriously. His example came from Torah. He understood that civil, as well as religious, governance required a leadership that places justice and mercy above self-aggrandizement; a leadership committed to “all” the people served and not just special interests. If his community was not happy with his choices or decisions, his “staff and knapsack” were always close by! Rabbi Kerry Olitzky comments on this story by saying, “He [Rabbi Shmelke] takes his work seriously, but not himself.”
This portion of Torah is devoted to impressing upon the Israelites the importance of effective government and leadership. These are skills they would require in establishing their own independent presence in the Promised Land.
The lessons of 2,000 years ago, or even 200 years ago, bear repeating in our day. We are a nation gifted with a Constitution and governed by laws. We, too, appoint and elect magistrates and officials to carry out the laws and judges to interpret the Constitution. When our leaders forget who it is they represent and why they were elected, they need to heed the example of Rabbi Shmelke: Stand for something, or don’t stand at all. And, if what you stand for is perceived to be not in the interests of those you serve, be prepared to pick up your staff and knapsack, and move on.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Re'eh posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/26/11 | Torah Portion: Re’eh
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 11:26-16:17
August 26, 2011
“See, this day I set before you blessing and curse: blessing, if you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I enjoin upon you this day; and curse, if you do not obey the commandments of the Lord your God. . (Deut. 11:26-28).”
This powerful biblical statement underscores the uniqueness of humankind. A commentary in the Eitz Hayim Humash (Five Books of Moses) notes, “The distinguishing characteristic of human beings, setting us apart from other animals, is our ability to choose the values by which we live. Other animals are driven by instinct. The Torah repeatedly affirms that humans have the potential to control instinct. At our best, we are greater than the angels, who do not have to overcome temptation and apathy. At our worst, we are less than beasts. Their destructiveness is part of their nature; human cruelty is the result of choice.”
Our greatest blessing can also be our worst nightmare: Freewill. We have a choice of which direction in life we wish to pursue. Regardless of disabilities, shortcomings, or perceived obstacles, we are free to determine if we love or hate, feel good or bad, perform acts of kindness or cruelty, be selfish or selfless.
In the 1920 poem, “The Road Not Taken”, Robert Frost wrote:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
God has gifted us with “freewill” and a road map (Torah) to a life of fulfillment and happiness. It’s the “road less traveled by.” It requires confidence, self-esteem, and a burning desire to work on behalf of all God’s creations. It’s a road that circumnavigates the “spacious skies, amber waves of grain, and purple mountain majesties.” It is also a road scarred by potholes and pitfalls of homelessness, poverty, hunger, and disease. The road passes through the glorious achievements of humankind, but also the battlefields of war. It would be much easier to take the other more popular road of indifference, a trip through the carefree Disneyland of fantasy and make-believe. But, as Frost reminds us, “I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”
We are blessed with choice. May the choices we make be a blessing to us and all humankind.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Ekev posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/19/11 | Torah Portion: Ekev
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 7:12-11:25
August 19, 2011
Several years before Abraham Joshua Heschel’s death in 1972, he suffered a near-fatal heart attack. At that time, his former student and friend, Rabbi Samuel Dresner, visited Professor Heschel’s home during his recuperation. In describing the near-death experience, Heschel said, “Sam, when I regained consciousness, my first feelings were not of despair or anger. I felt only gratitude to God for my life, for every moment I had lived. I was ready to depart. ‘Take me, O Lord.’ I thought, ‘I have seen so many miracles in my lifetime.’ This is what I meant when I wrote: ‘I did not ask for success; I asked for wonder. And You gave it to me.’”
Rabbi Brad Artson makes a similar point with regard to prayer: “The act of praying has a larger purpose; it sensitizes us to the greatest marvel of all: that we exist, and that we are conscious of our existence. Jewish prayer should shock us into an awareness that life itself is miraculous.”
A simple verse from Deuteronomy (8:10) reads: “When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the Lord your God for the good land which He has given you.” This verse becomes the foundation for the Bir’kat Ha’mazon/Blessing After Meals. One concludes the act of sustaining oneself by thanking God. Why? Does God require words of thanks? Probably not. Humans, though, need the constant reminder that we did not ask to be born, nor did we create the world and the sustenance it provides. In the words of the ancient Talmud (compendium of Jewish law), “Benefiting from this world without saying a blessing is like stealing from God.”
We are born into God’s world; a world of ‘spacious skies, amber waves of grain, and purple mountain majesties.’ A world with enormous potential. How does one express thanks for the many unsolicited gifts of goodness that are ours? We say a prayer. By taking a few moments to offer thanks for a meal just eaten, we are reminded of our Divine inheritance; God’s gift of creation. Or, as Professor Heschel so profoundly noted, “I did not ask for success; I asked for wonder. And You gave it to me.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Va'etchanan posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/11/11 | Torah Portion: Ve’etchanan
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 3:23-7:11
August 12, 2011
Noted physicist and cosmologist, Stephen Hawking (a familiar presence on the Discovery Channel), has devoted a good portion of this life to understanding the mystery of creation. He notes, “As recent advances in cosmology suggest, the laws of gravity and quantum theory allow universes to appear spontaneously from nothing. Spontaneous creation is the reason there is something rather than nothing, why the universe exists, why we exist. It is not necessary to invoke God to light the blue touch paper and set the universe going.” Hawking would probably admit he is not denying the existence of religion, just the existence of God.
Another famous physician, scientist, and theologian of the 12th century, Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon (known as “Maimonides”) takes exception to the notion that God was not part of creation. He explains the meaning of the famous verse/prayer from Deuteronomy, “Hear (Sh’ma) Israel! The Lord Our God Is One God (Deut. 6:4)”, as not a statement of hope that one day all human beings will agree that there is only “One God”, but that “the Cause of all existence is One.” He maintains that God’s unity is eternal and unique. God creates all there is and continues to create all that will be.
So, what is it-evolution or creationism (intelligent design!), or both? It appears Hawking and Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon are saying the same thing, just using different terms to make their respective point. Hawking explains the “Big Bang” as Something (the universe) coming from Nothing. Maimonides would likely agree, but for him the Nothing is God. Hawking has many times stated that Nothing is the force that creates universes. Maimonides, also a scientist, has said God is the force that creates universes. In the absence of universes, all that remains is God; or using Stephen Hawking’s terminology, the great Nothingness!
The Jewish mystics of the 16th century also wrestled with the mystery of creation. They, too, asked, “Before there was something, what was there?” Their answer: the Ein Sof (literally, “without an end”). Before creation, all that existed was the Ein Sof (the mystics metaphor for God).
In fact, there exists a healthy relationship between science and theology. Science endeavors to discover the reason and rational for the existence of the universe from the moment of the “Big Bang.” Theology tries to understand the Divine force responsible for creating the “Big Bang.” Call it Nothingness, Ein Sof, or God- “the cause of all existence is One.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Devarim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/05/11 | Torah Portion: Devarim
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 1:1-3:22
August 5, 2011
The fifth book in the Torah-Deuteronomy-begins with a very different Moses from the person we first encountered in the Book of Exodus: “These are the words which Moses spoke to all Israel (Deut. 1:1).” Forty years earlier, when first approached by God to take the Israelites out of Egypt, Moses said, “Oh, Lord. I am not a man of words (Exo. 4:10).” What turned someone who was “not a man of words” into a person who will spend the entire final book of the Torah speaking, teaching, and poetically imploring the Israelites to follow God’s ways in the Promised Land?
Contemporary bible scholar Pinhas Peli writes, “Had Moses been a man of words when he first assumed the mission of freeing the Israelites from Egypt, he might have become, as so often happens, a captive of his own eloquence. . .What was needed at that time in the life of the people of Israel was a man of action, not words.”
Moses spent forty years proving his leadership skills by his actions. He stood before Pharaoh in defiance, led the Israelites out of Egypt and across the Red Sea, climbed Mt. Sinai to receive the Torah, organized the construction of a portable sanctuary in the wilderness, fought against enemies who tried to destroy the new Israelite nation, made certain food and water were readily available, and finally brought the Israelites to the edge of the Promised Land. One may suggest Moses earned the right to speak and be listened to. His actions earned him the respect of a grateful nation.
I remember being a newly-ordained rabbi, fresh out of the Seminary and in my first pulpit. Most of my congregation were older than me and far more experienced in the ways of life. I remember thinking, “How can they take my words seriously?” So, I grew a beard! I also committed myself to teaching the mitzvot (obligations of Jewish life) by doing them. Let my actions speak louder than my words. Thirty-three years later I can speak before my congregation with greater confidence in knowing my words are reflected in my actions. The honor and respect accorded senior statesmen or retired generals is for their experiences and achievements. We show honor by listening and learning from their words.
Before writing the next epic novel or delivering the next life-changing address, take some time to first work the fields of life.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Matot posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/22/11 | Torah Portion: Matot
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 30:2-32:42
July 22, 2011
There is a Talmudic dictum that teaches, “Shteeka K’Hoda’ah”-Silence is like assent. If one who possesses the power to do so does not protest, it is considered as a sign of acquiescence or assent.
In ancient times, the father held sway over his minor children. This was especially true with regard to legal vows entered into by daughters living in his home. In the Book of Numbers it is written, “If a woman makes a vow to the Lord or assumes an obligation while still in her father’s household by reason of her youth, and her father learns of her vow or her self-imposed obligation and offers no [immediate] objection, all her vows shall stand and every self-imposed obligation shall stand (Num. 30:4-5).” At the moment the father learns of his daughter’s vow, he possesses the authority to immediately annul it. If, after learning of the vow he remains silent, the silence is understood as consent.
How often do we face acts of injustice with silence? A derogatory comment, an act of selfishness, or encountering cruelty toward others-in each instance we are called upon to take a side. By remaining silent, we tacitly agree to the hurt being administered to others. As Rabbi Brad Artson has noted, “There is no neutrality. Silence is assent.”
It is almost cliché to say, “We are living in difficult times.” While Congress argues whether to raise the debt limit, the number of homeless reaches record numbers, unemployment runs rampant, more middle class Americans fall into poverty. At the same time our schools produce more illiterate and educationally unmotivated children and racism & bigotry are on the rise. Remaining silent is voting for the status quo.
Not only is silence at this time unseemly, it also flies in the face of Jewish tradition. Our responsibility is to make this world whole & holy, or as we say “sanctifying God in the midst of the people.” We do this by letting our elected representatives know our position on present legislation. More importantly, we do this by lending a hand to the homeless, clothing the naked, healing the sick and actively pursuing peace.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Hukkat posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/01/11 | Torah Portion: Hukkat
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 19:1-22:1
July 1, 2011
It must have been the worst news Moses ever heard. “. . .therefore you shall not bring this people into the land which I have given them” (Numbers 20:12). For 40 difficult years Moses led the Israelite nation from the slavery in Egypt to the entrance of the Promised Land. For 40 years he successfully navigated storms of hunger, thirst, rebellion, loss of faith, and distrust of authority. Strong leadership anchored by a faith in the One God made Moses the “Rock of Gibraltar” in the eyes of a young fledgling people.
What grievous action did Moses perform costing him the reward of entering the Promised Land? The incident at Meribah. In the sweltering heat of the summer sun, after just suffering the death of his oldest sister Miriam, the Israelites whine to Moses that they haven’t enough water to drink. They complain they were better off in Egypt! In response to their cries, Moses and Aaron beseech God to provide water. Moses is instructed by God to speak to a certain rock and water will come forth. In anger at the impatience of this “stiff-necked people” and the death of his sister, Moses strikes the rock twice instead of speaking to it. Water comes forth. The Israelites thirst is quenched. Moses is told he will not enter the Promised Land. Does the punishment fit the crime? Should one so devout and loyal for 40 years be treated in this manner?
Rabbi Bradley Artson notes, “Anger is not always sinful; there are times when anger is a righteous and appropriate response, as Moses demonstrated against the Egyptian taskmaster or against the Jewish rebel, Korah. What made this outburst of anger sinful was that it blinded Moses to the real possibilities that dialogue would have offered. He was so angry that all he could see were his own grievances and his rage. All he could remember was the long list of abuses he suffered at the hands of the tribes. Lashing out at the past, Moses misread the present. How often do we become so blinded by the hurts and wounds of the past that we carry them into our present, precluding the possibility of ever transcending the very wounds that hurt us? In a very real way, we become our own torturers, making certain that old injuries continue to harm us, that old cuts continue to sting.”
Pinhas Peli provides further insight into this incident, “The Lord orders [Moses] to “take a rod,” to go back to the days of his youth, when with the rod in his hands he would rise to overcome many a crisis. He is to talk to the rock and bring forth water. Moses, however, misunderstood the call. Instead of showing the strength of dignified leadership, his temper flares, and he insults the people: “hear now, ye rebels!” And in the same mood, he commits another mistake, an unforgivable one. Instead of talking to the rock, he smites it. This is why the dreadful verdict has been pronounced. Moses who knew how to face stormy situations in the past, now runs away and falls on his face. Moses, who set an example in how to treat his flock firmly but respectfully, now heaps insults on them. He could not be the leader anymore. He would not steer the people to the land.”
One teaching, two important interpretations: 1) Our past is just that, our past. Tomorrow is a new day. 2) We lead and learn by example.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Korach posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/24/11 | Torah Portion: Korach
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 16:1-18:32
June 24, 2011
For Moses, nothing is easy! He had to persuade not only Pharaoh but also the Israelite slaves that leaving Egypt was in their best interest. No sooner were they free, then Moses had to endure constant complaints-not enough food, not enough water, we were better off in Egypt than in the middle of a desert, and so on! Now, full-scale rebellion!
Korach, a member of the tribe of Levi like Moses, gathers together 250 Israelite tribal leaders and publicly assails Moses and Aaron’s leadership by proclaiming, “You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation? (Num. 16:3)” Rabbi Ismar Schorsch notes, “Behind the facade of democratic rhetoric lurks a grab for power.”
Korach’s claim is not without merit, but the manner in which he pronounced it (in public and, literally, ganging up on Moses with 250 Israelites) made clear his intentions were not just to “level the playing field,” but to usurp power. This was a rebellion doomed from the outset.
In the late 1990s, a group of Orthodox Jewish students filed a lawsuit against Yale University. Yale’s housing policy required that all unmarried undergraduates live on campus for their first two years; the school has a longstanding mission to create not just dormitories but college communities. There are single-sex floors for first-year students, but anyone of any gender can visit, sleep over, or use the bathroom. In 1998, several Orthodox Jewish students, subsequently known as the “Yale Five,” protested the policy, claiming that Yale’s accommodations compromised their modesty, or what is referred to in Hebrew as “Tzniyut”.
In keeping with their level of Jewish observance, there claim was reasonable. What most newspaper articles of the time failed to note was Yale’s initial response. The university quickly offered the students a suite in the dorm that would have spared the use of any common facilities. What Yale was not willing to do was forego its requirement that all unmarried 1st and 2nd year students reside in residential dormitories. The “Yale Five” showed their true colors when they turned down the offer and filed a law suit against the university. Like Korach, their real intentions were not what they seemed to be. In fact, the real issue for these students was not “modesty/Tzniyut”, but a desire to minimize social contact with anyone who was not like them. In the end, the courts sided with Yale ruling the students constitutional rights were not violated. Rabbi Schorsch, in commenting on this case, writes, “The case of the Yale plaintiffs is frivolous because it is unwarranted. Nothing is at stake except their misguided notion of God’s will.”
Both Korach and the Yale students hid their real agenda behind a facade of Torah and constitutional law. In doing so, they not only demeaned themselves but the moral/ethical teachings of Torah they purportedly held so sacred.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Be'ha'alotcha posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/10/11 | Torah Portion: Be’ha’alotcha
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 8:1-12:16
June 10, 2011
These Are The Good ‘Ole Days. . .
-Carly Simon from “Anticipation”
The most notable feature of the ancient Israelites under Moses’ leadership was their incessant need to complain! There is a Yiddish term applied to one who constantly complains. They are referred to as a “Nudnik,” literally a boring pest! Even the most patient eventually get fed up with the nudnik. Moses was no exception. Several times, in the 40 year desert journey, Moses wanted to be rid of this “stiff-necked people,” and each time it was the patience of God that got him through.
When the people complained about food, God gave them manna. When they cried of thirst, God provided water. Each time their cries, complaints, and murmurs were heard and responded to. There is a difference between lodging legitimate complaints and being a general pest/constant complainer/nudnik. After so many years of finding fault, it became second-nature to the Israelites. As Pinchas Peli points out, “Murmuring, bewailing, moaning, fretting, and whining became a family pastime.” “The Israelites wept and said, “If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish that we used to eat free in Egypt, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. Now our gullets are shriveled. There is nothing at all! Nothing but this manna to look to! (Num. 11:4-6).”
The wonderful thing aboutmmemory is its selective nature. The Israelites remembered the fish and cucumbers and melons as if the Egyptians made these foods readily available. The medieval bible scholar, Rashi, notes that the Egyptians would not even give them straw for their bricks, how much more so these food items. Furthermore, their wonderful memories of Egypt seem to have selectively excluded the pain and torture that was visited upon them. Nonetheless, for the ancient Israelites, those were the “good ‘ole days!”
We all know a nudnik. He/She’s the person who constantly complains how bad things are today and how much better they were in days past. For them, the proverbial glass is always “half empty” (and never “half full”). The late Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan liked to say, with regard to Jewish tradition, “The past has a vote, not a veto.” This is a good axiom to live by in most dealings. Or, has Carly Simon so profoundly wrote, “These Are The Good ‘Ole Days.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Naso posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/03/11 | Torah Portion: Naso
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 4:21-7:89
June 3, 2011
What, and who, is a Nazarite? This Torah portion introduces a new category of religiousity-the Nazir. The Torah states, “If anyone, man or woman, explicitly utters a nazirite’s vow, to set himself apart for the Lord, he shall abstain from wine and any other intoxicant. . .no razor shall touch his head. . .he shall not go in where there is a dead person. Even if his father or mother, or his brother or sister, should die (Num. 6:1-5).”
In ancient Israel, there existed a hierarchy of holiness. Based on birth, the Israelites were divided into three groups: Cohanim (priests), Levi’im (Levites, or priestly assistants), and Yisraelim (ordinary common folk). The overwhelming majority of Jews were part of the third category. It was for their purpose the category of Nazir was created. For the priest and levite, their entire existence was devoted to the Divine service of God. What about the average Jew? What if he/she wished to devote their lives to a holier and more devout existence? What recourse was there for them? They could take a vow to become a Nazir requiring that they abstain from drinking alcohol, cutting their hair, and attending to the dead. Their vows had to be for no less than thirty days and it only applied in the Land of Israel.
No one is certain when the vow of the Nazarite ceased to be operative. What is known is from the 6th century c.e onward there is no mention of this practice. In fact, with the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 c.e., the priests and levites were effectively out of work. In the absence of the Temple, synagogues arose. Devotion to the service of God became egalitarian-a pursuit available to all Jews.
Rabbi Brad Artson writes, “The Nazir was the path for the biblical Jew who wanted to make that relationship central and public. But what of our own age? What of the Jews who have those same deep spiritual needs, the same burning desire to make their Judaism a priority? Those people need look no further than their own synagogues. . .The challenge of participating with a full heart in the pageant and drama of Jewish living is still before us. Not as Nazirites, but as enthusiastic participants in learning and in worship services, as practitioners of the mitzvot, each one of us can claim a unique place as a servant of the living God.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Bamidbar posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/27/11 | Torah Portion: Bamidbar
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 1:1-4:20
May 27, 2011
The 4th book of the Torah-Bamidbar/Numbers-begins with the following command: “Take a census of the whole Israelite community by the clans of its ancestral houses, listing the names, every male, head by head. You and Aaron shall record them by their groups, from the age of twenty years up, all those in Israel who are able to bear arms” (Num. 1:2-3).
The purpose of this census was to determine the military strength of the Israelites. Their first concern was war-both for defensive and offensive purposes. A considerable portion of the Hebrew Bible is devoted to warfare. History-from ancient times to the present-is defined by wars. Most nations would rather not fight them, but few seem able to shy away.
It is odd how those most ready to commit their nation to war are those who will not have to stand in harm’s way. Those who least desire war, more often than not, wear uniforms. In an address to Congress in 1951, the late General Douglas MacArthur, General of the Armed Forces in the WWII Philippine campaign and recipient of the Medal of Honor, said, “I know war as few other men now living know it, and nothing to me is more revolting. I have long advocated its complete abolition, as its very destructiveness on both friend and foe has rendered it useless as a method of settling international disputes.”
Former Israeli Prime Minister Gold Meier is remembered for saying, “The one thing I cannot forgive the Arabs for is that they forced our sons to kill their sons.”
As we prepare to commemorate another Memorial Day, we continue to bury dead soldiers from wars we’ve fought so long we’ve forgotten why; passed down from one administration to another, cloaked in terms like freedom and liberty but lacking in sensibility.
Religion is too often the underpinning of war. Mark Twain wrote a piece entitled “War Prayer” that was not to be published until after his death because, in his words, “only dead men can tell the truth in this world.” In his prayer he facetiously writes, “O Lord, our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells. . .for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their pilgrimage, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.”
This weekend give pause to the countless number of Americans whose lives were consumed by an insatiable appetite for war. May their families be comforted among the many who will not give up hope for a brighter tomorrow.
The final words are those of the former Secretary of State, John Foster Dulles, who said: “The world will never have lasting peace so long as men reserve for war the finest human qualities. Peace, no less than war, requires idealism and self-sacrifice and a righteous and dynamic faith.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Behukotai posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/20/11 | Torah Portion: Behukotai
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 26:3-27:34
May 20, 2011
Is it just a coincidence, or what? The concluding Torah portion in Leviticus, being read this week in synagogues, contains a list of “blessings” (if you obey God’s ways) and “curses” (if you do not!). “If you do not obey Me and do not observe all these commandments. . . I will wreak misery upon you (Lev. 26:14-16).” And, according to Harold Camping, a civil engineer turned self-taught biblical scholar-May 21, 2011 is Judgment Day-believers are heading for heaven and the rest of us, well, you can figure that one out!
These verses of Torah are best understood metaphorically, as for Mr. Camping’s prediction it is not without some merit. Regardless of the fact the three major western religions-Judaism, Christianity, and Islam-go to great length to describe themselves as paths of peace and love, every major war conflict in the last century has roots in religion. We just don’t seem to be able to get along. And things are getting worse!
In the 60’s, singer-songwriter & satirist, Tom Lehrer, composed the song “National Brotherhood Week.” He was bemoaning the human condition of his time. How sad that 50 years later the lyrics are as relevant as they were when first written:
Oh, the white folks hate the black folks,
And the black folks hate the white folks.
To hate all but the right folks
Is an old established rule.
But during National Brotherhood Week, National Brotherhood Week,
Lena Horne and Sheriff Clarke are dancing cheek to cheek.
It's fun to eulogize
The people you despise,
As long as you don't let 'em in your school.
Oh, the poor folks hate the rich folks,
And the rich folks hate the poor folks.
All of my folks hate all of your folks,
It's American as apple pie.
But during National Brotherhood Week, National Brotherhood Week,
New Yorkers love the Puerto Ricans 'cause it's very chic.
Step up and shake the hand
Of someone you can't stand.
You can tolerate him if you try.
Oh, the Protestants hate the Catholics,
And the Catholics hate the Protestants,
And the Hindus hate the Muslims,
And everybody hates the Jews.
But during National Brotherhood Week, National Brotherhood Week,
It's National Everyone-smile-at-one-another-hood Week.
Be nice to people who
Are inferior to you.
It's only for a week, so have no fear.
Be grateful that it doesn't last all year!
Our world-the world of Harold Camping-is not going to be saved by assuming the ostrich position. It is our responsibility to save ourselves from ourselves. The mitzvot/commandments are the Divine plan for making this world livable. It all begins with a simple act of kindness; an extended hand not just to those we love, but those we do not yet understand.
In 1952, presidential candidate Adlai Stevenson noted, “The human race has improved everything but the human race.” If we do not seriously attempt to improve ourselves and our relations with others, predictions like those of Harold Camping and the curses of the Book of Leviticus, might just come to pass.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Behar posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/13/11 | Torah Portion: Behar
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 25:1-26:2
May 13, 2011
This portion of Torah introduces two of the most advanced social reforms in history: The Sabbatical (seventh) year cycle and the Jubilee (fiftieth) year.
“The Lord spoke to Moses on Mt. Sinai: When you enter the land that I assign to you, the land shall observe a sabbath of the Lord. Six years you may sow your field and six years you may prune your vineyard and gather in the yield. But in the seventh year the land shall have a sabbath of complete rest: you shall not sow your field or prune your vineyard (Lev. 25:1-4).”
With regard to the Jubilee year, the Torah writes, “In this year of Jubilee [fiftieth year] each of you shall return to his original holding (Lev. 25:13).”
Two cycles were established for the Israelites upon entry to the Promised Land. As an agrarian society, every seven years they would leave their land unharvested and unplanted. In this year, only the poor would have access to the unharvested crops. Professor Baruch Levine points out that over-irrigated land runs the risk of being saturated in time with alkaline, sodium, and calcium. Rabbi Ismar Schorsch suggests that this was the primary cause for the decline of the prosperous ancient Neo-Sumerian economy in Mesopotamia. It made good sense to let the land rest.
After entering the Promised Land, each Israelite family would receive a land portion that was theirs in perpetuity. If, for some reason, the family was compelled to sell, rent, or lease their land, every fifty years they were guaranteed to get their land portion back.
In practical terms, the concept of a Jubilee year was soon abandoned. The requirements of the Jubilee year made it economically unfeasible to function as a society. With regard to the Seventh year, it is still practiced by religious kibbutzim (agricultural collectives) in Israel, but it, too, has lost much of its significance. In a time when the Jews were primarily a rural agricultural society, it made sense. Today, the modern State of Israel is a technological and urban society.
Still, the idea of maintaining a permanent possession over one’s portion and treating it with sanctity, respect, and concern is a lesson for us in our day. In the context of their times, these idealistic concepts served as a protection against totalitarianism and feudalism. As the renown Torah scholar Pinchas Peli writes, “they assured an inherent “liberty to all the inhabitants in the land (Lev. 25:10)” and the right of each individual to “return to his home and to his family.” From biblical times to this day, Judaism remains a force for liberty, freedom, prosperity, and peace for all.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Israel Independence Day posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/06/11 | Israel Independence Day
May 6, 2011
This coming week celebrates the 63rd birthday of the modern State of Israel. As Yom Ha’atzmaut/Israel Independence Day approaches, I am reminded of a comment made by the late former Israeli military chief of staff and political leader Moshe Dayan. When asked about Israel’s perpetual struggle for survival, he commented, “What can I say, we live in a tough neighborhood!”
The State of Israel, the only operative democracy in the Middle East, has lived through major wars, intifadas, suicide bombings, and now rebellion in every country that borders her and yet still attracts record number of tourists to a vibrant and growing economy. What is it that makes this country, this people, so resilient and productive; a beacon of light in a region gripped by Middle Ages fundamentalism?
A clue to understanding the mission of Israel and Jews in our day is found in a story written by Leonard Fein, founder of Moment Magazine, in the 1970’s:
It was 1860, or maybe 1861, in Minsk, or possibly in Pinsk. Wherever, whenever, there were a dozen Jews who used to get together every Tuesday evening for some good talk.
What did the Jews talk about? Why, about what it would be like one day — what, that is, Jerusalem would be like. In exquisite detail, they would imagine Jerusalem: its climate and its curriculum, its cuisine and its culture. Their elaborate conversation had long since developed a near-ritual character, including its periodic interruption by the one skeptic in the group, a fellow named Berl.
Every few months, Berl would say, “Can’t we please, just this once, change the topic of conversation? Really, it’s quite tedious by now. If we’re really that interested in what it’s like in Jerusalem, why don’t we pack up and go? If we like it, we’ll stay. And if we don’t like it, we’ll also stay, and make it into something we like.”
To which the others would inevitably respond, “Berl, Berl, don’t be so naive. Don’t you realize how much easier, and how very much safer, it is to sit in Minsk [or Pinsk] and talk about what it might be like than to go and confront the reality?” And Berl, because he was a sociable fellow, would again drop his complaint and join in the talk.
This was, for those times and places, a rather sophisticated group; indeed, they had some non-Jewish friends. Once upon a Tuesday, they invited one of their non-Jewish friends to join with them, and together they talked until the wee hours of the morning, until, in fact, their guest stood and said, “Fellows, I’ve enjoyed the evening enormously, but I really must get going. Thanks so much for inviting me, and good night.”
“Thank you for coming,” they replied. “But before you go, we have just one question we’d like to ask.”
“Please, anything at all,” said their guest.
“Our question is…” — here there was an awkward pause, and much clearing of throats — “what we’d like to know is, what do, oh dear, how shall we ask it? What do people like you, if you know what we mean, think of people like us, if you know what we mean?”
“Oh,” said their guest, “you want to know how we feel about Jews.”
“Yes, that’s right, you have it. You see, we are usually so isolated, and we have so little opportunity for feedback. You don’t mind telling us?”
“No, not at all. I think you’re a wonderful people — passionate, generous, literate. I have only one problem with you.”
“A problem? What kind of problem?”
“Well,” replied the guest, “there is one aspect of Jewish behavior that really annoys me. You people seem to believe — why, I can’t imagine — that you’re morally superior to everyone else. Don’t get me wrong — I don’t think you’re any worse than average. But I can’t understand your moral conceit, and I find it frightfully annoying.”
To their credit, for they knew it was so, his hosts did not deny the accusation; they sought instead to explain their “conceit.”
“As you yourself observed, it’s very late, so we can’t give you the whole etiology of our sense of moral superiority. We’ll explain it instead by way of a metaphor. We do indeed think we are your moral betters, and the reason we do is that we don’t hunt. You people hunt, and we don’t hunt, and that makes us better than you.”
Their guest guffawed, and then stormed at them: “You silly, trivial people; of course you don’t hunt! We don’t permit you to own guns! It’s easy to be virtuous if you’re impotent.”
Whereupon the 11 turned to Berl, the skeptic, and said, “Tomorrow we pack, then go up to the land, to Jerusalem, and there we shall prove that even with guns we will not become hunters.”
And this is the goal and mission of the State of Israel, to be able to model this behavior to a world so in need.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Kedoshim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/29/11 | Torah Portion: Kedoshim
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 19:1-20:27
April 29, 2011
This remarkable portion of Torah, referred to by scholars as the Holiness Code and by others the Cornerstone of the Torah, begins by stating: “You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy (Lev. 19:2).”
Speak with two Jews about the meaning of holiness and you likely receive three opinions. There are some for whom Judaism is primarily a set of behaviors and rituals. Observance of Shabbat & festivals, the dietary laws (Kashrut), daily worship, etc. form the foundation of their beliefs and transcend every moment of their lives.
There is also a group of Jews who understand Judaism as a form of social action. Helping the poor, feeding the hungry, offering shelter to the homeless, and exhibiting ethical/moral concern for all God’s creatures is at the center of their Jewish identification.
Rabbi Bradley Artson astutely observes, “Neither of these approaches fully captures the totality of Kedoshim (holiness). At core, this week’s reading demonstrates the indivisibility of ritual and ethics. For the Torah speaks about paying a laborer his wages promptly, observing Shabbat, honoring parents, not making idols, the proper mode of sacrifice, and leaving food for the poor-all at the same time. In its purposeful jumble of ritual and ethical injunctions, the Torah offers only a single justification: “You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy.”
In Judaism, ethics and ritual do not abide separately. Ritual only finds meaning if it results in ethical behavior. Ethical behavior doesn’t just naturally occur. It results from a life of meaningful discipline. For Jews, this is the province of ritual. Rabbi Artson further notes, “One of Judaism’s central insights is to fuse ritual and ethics into a single blazing light-the mitzvah.”
Each, alone, is empty without the other. Ethical behavior with no grounding in ritual/spiritual discipline can be objectively dry and unfeeling. Ritual, as an end in itself, can result in a chaotic and destructive passion. “You shall be holy” means bringing a bridled passion to the task of making this a better world.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Passover posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/15/11 | Passover 5771
April 15, 2011
“This is the bread of affliction which our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. All who are hungry, let them enter and eat. All who are in need, let them come celebrate Passover.”
With the statement above, the Passover Seder begins. Before embarking on a historical journey tracing the beginnings of the Jewish people, we are implored to remember who we were (slaves in Egypt) and never lose sight of those “who are hungry” or “who are in need.”
As far back as I can remember, each year at this time I sat at a Passover table. It is the same old matzah, no more tasty now than it was then. And, the same story told (or read) from wine-stained Haggadahs-some older, some newer; some thicker, some thinner. There is always a lot of talk and laughter (and a fair amount of “shushing”) and, of course, the prerequisite “Is it time to eat, yet?” Most Jews will tell you that first, and foremost, Passover is about family. When you don’t have family, it is about being included in the Seder of another family.
Still, through all these layers of celebration there remains the constant reminder that we have ancestors from 60 years ago or 100 years ago or 4,000 years ago, who were mistreated, persecuted, ostracized, and even put to death because of who they were. They were hungry, homeless, and in most cases treated as strangers even in the lands they thought of as home. “All who are hungry, let them enter and eat. All who are in need, let them come celebrate Passover”-it is easy to lose this message amidst the readings, songs, matzah ball soup, and afikomen of the Passover Seder. Maybe this is why the message has been repeated each year. We say it until we get it right!
None of us are slaves and few of us have experienced persecution. Historically, no one knows better than us what it means to be shunned for who we are. We have ancestors we’ve never met whose homes and lands were confiscated because they were not granted citizenship in their countries. We have members in our family tree who were expelled from France, England, Germany, Spain, and Russia because they were considered illegal immigrants. We have relatives we’ve never heard of who were homeless, hungry, and tired; in search of nothing more than a simple act of kindness. We don’t know them, but their history defines us.
We live in a nation increasingly divided by wealth and ethnicity. Passover is the reminder that a Jew does not judge a person by the color of their skin, the size of their wallet, or the country of their origin. We approach the stranger as a creation of God. “All who are hungry, let them enter and eat. All who are in need, let them come celebrate Passover.”
Passover is referred to as “z’man cha’ru’teinu/the time of our freedom.” May song, celebration, and words of freedom be a part of your Passover.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Metzora posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/08/11 | Torah Portion: Metzora
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 14:1-15:33
April 8, 2011
In the aftermath of the 2008 Israeli invasion of Gaza, the United Nations appointed a commission, under the direction of Richard Goldstone, to investigate and respond to allegations of criminal behavior in waging the war. As many of us are aware, the infamous Goldstone report held Israel liable for “crimes against humanity,” and further suggested that these actions be considered by the international tribunal of justice. This past week, Goldstone wrote an article for the Washington Post in which he admitted:
"We know a lot more today about…the Gaza war of 2008-09 than we did when I chaired the fact-finding mission appointed by the U.N. Human Rights Council that produced what has come to be known as the Goldstone Report. If I had known then what I know now, the Goldstone Report would have been a different document…"Our report found evidence of potential war crimes and 'possibly crimes against humanity' by both Israel and Hamas. That the crimes allegedly committed by Hamas were intentional goes without saying; its rockets were purposefully and indiscriminately aimed at civilian targets. The allegations of intentionality by Israel were based on the deaths of and injuries to civilians in situations where our fact-finding mission had no evidence on which to draw any other reasonable conclusion."
There was a collective sigh of relief in Israel and Jewish communities around the world, in learning of Richard Goldstone’s retraction. None the less, the United Nations announced it had no intentions of withdrawing or backing off the original printed findings of the Goldstone Commission. In a high-tech digital world, one has to be especially careful of what one says and writes. Once the words are out there, it is impossible to call them back.
This is precisely the lesson learned in this week’s Torah portion. The Torah deals with a Metzora, a person who contracts leprosy. In biblical times, diseases were seen as a form of punishment from God. The person one turned to for healing was the priest. The ancient rabbis of the 1st & 2nd centuries taught that the word ]i]Metzora was in fact an acronym for Motzi Shem Ra/Libel. A person was stricken with leprosy for libeling another.
Rabbi Israel Salanter, who lived in the 19th century, dedicated his life to teaching the importance of guarding the words we say. In one of his lessons he taught, “If you say of a rabbi that he does not have a good voice and of a cantor that he is not a scholar, you are a gossip. But if you say of a rabbi that he is no scholar and of a cantor that he has no voice, you are a murderer.”
How often have we rationalized our words with excuses like “I was only joking,” or “This won’t hurt him,” or “Everybody knows it anyway.” Today, Facebook, YouTube, and the other digital social networks, afford the opportunity for instant recognition, fame, and infamy. The hurt, pain, and tragedy of misusing words on these social networks have become evidentiary briefs in legal trials for online bullying.
Richard Goldstone can make retractions until the end of time. His original words are still there. Their hurt continues to be felt. It’s nice to know he realizes the errors in his work. It would have been nicer had he spoken correctly the first time.
The Jerusalem Talmud had it right when it stated, “The libeler stands in Syria and kills in Rome.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Tazria posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/01/11 | Torah Portion: Tazria/Shabbat Ha’Hodesh
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 12:1-13:59
April 1, 2011
This portion of Torah begins with the ritual concerns surrounding birth- “Speak to the Israelite people thus: When a woman at childbirth. . . (Lev. 12:2)”
No human experience is more profound than the act of giving birth. We are simultaneously faced with life and death, the miracle of birth and the presence of God. In this moment we confront the very definition of what it means to be human.
The ancient rabbis reflected on the creation of Adam (the first human) in a Jewish legend: “When God created the first human, God created a hermaphrodite, fully male and female. Rabbi Levi further taught, “When Adam was created, God made Adam with two body-fronts, and then sawed the creature in two, so the two bodies resulted, one for the male and one for the female.”
There are several ways to understand this Midrash/Jewish legend. It clearly suggests the original hermaphrodite was the ideal-a creature possessing the knowledge, understanding, and sensitivities of both sexes. Yet, inner tension and conflict resulted in a separation into male and female beings. There exists a clear psychological need to know who we are.
The 21st century, to date, has been about breaking down gender barriers; bringing greater equality to women and men. Rabbi Brad Artson notes, “By adhering to either a masculine or a feminine self-definition, we chop ourselves in half-denying a significant part of our own longings, development, and possibilities.”
Still, the ideal is not so ideal. Gender differences are healthy and compliment each other, but we do not live in a world of just men or just women. We live together-male and female, alike. The ideal is not being alike, but learning from our differences; understanding the other without having to be. As Rabbi Artson writes, “In the depths of personal expression and gender identity, it means reclaiming our severed halves-learning from the men and women with whom we share our lives how to allow our souls to blossom and be infused by the full range of human potential.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Shemini/Shabbat Parah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/25/11 | Torah Portion: Shemini/Shabbat Parah
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 9:1-11:47
March 25, 2011
In the first dramatic narrative in Leviticus (after 9 chapters of priestly instructions on caring out the sacrificial cult), the sons of the High Priest, Aaron, “Nadav and Abihu each took his fire pan, put fire in it and laid incense on it; and they offered before the Lord alien fire, which God had not enjoined upon them. And fire came forth from the Lord and consumed them; thus they died at the instance of the Lord (Lev. 10:1-2).”
The Torah never informs us of what explicitly Nadav and Abihu did to have caused their death. The Torah does suggest that God might have played a role. To this day, there have been numerous efforts to give a positive spin to this disastrous event. Some suggest Nadav and Abihu were put to death for bringing an offering that God did not request. Still others teach that the two were trying to take the reins of leadership from Moses and Aaron. The “strange fire” they brought was the fire of ambition. The Eitz Hayim Humash posits that “[Nadav and Abihu] brought the instruments for making a fire into the Tent, not realizing that on this special occasion God was going to send fire miraculously from heaven. Because they were too close to that fire, they were killed.”
Regardless of reason, one’s instincts are to respond to the grieving parent; in this instance, Aaron. As the High Priest, whose sons were training to follow in his footsteps, how did he respond to this horrific loss? “And Aaron was silent (Lev. 10:3).”
Silent? How could any parent remain silent at a moment like this? Wouldn’t parental instinct take over? Wouldn’t one be driven to seek justice, or in a worst case scenario revenge? But, to remain silent?! Rabbi Ismar Schorsch writes that Aaron’s silence was “perhaps the most pregnant silence in all of Scripture. Was his the silence of submission or of an anguish too great to voice?”
The question “why do good things happen to bad people?” has been on the minds of humankind since we were gifted with reason. There is no indelible answer to assuage one’s pain, but for the believer there is Faith. Rabbi Schorsch teaches, “In the final analysis, it is an unshaken belief in Providence that keeps us from going mad. The world is not without a Maker nor are our lives without a purpose. As long as that framework holds, we can endure the tests that come our way. Faith fills in where our understanding falters.”
The final words belong to Rabbi Harold Kushner, author of the book When Bad Things Happen To Good People. “Is there an answer to the question of why bad things happen to good people? That depends on what we mean by “answer.” If we mean “is there an explanation which will make sense of it all?”-why is there cancer in the world? Why did my father get cancer? Why did the plane crash? Why did my child die?-then there is probably no satisfying answer. . .But the word “answer” can mean “response” as well as “explanation,” and in that sense, there may well be a satisfying answer to the tragedies in our lives. The response would be. . .to forgive the world for not being perfect, to forgive God for not making a better world, to reach out to the people around us, and to go on living despite it all.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Purim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/18/11 | Purim
March 18, 2011
Let's take a snapshot of the World Today: Tunisia, Libya, Egypt, Yemen, Bahrain, and Saudi Arabia have been/are/could be involved in civil unrest and rebellion. The African nations of Sudan and the Congo continue to experience genocides that have cost millions of lives. The nations of the European Union and the United States face the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression. The Mexican government has all but lost control of its authority to vicious drug cartels. Japan is rocked by the 4th worst earthquake in recorded history and then devastated by a subsequent tsunami followed by the melt downs of multiple nuclear reactors. Oh, and did I mention Israel and the Palestinians?
Coincidentally, as the world of nations face one of the potentially darkest periods in history, Jews prepare to celebrate the holiday of Purim. Based on the biblical Book of Esther, Purim is a celebration of another potentially dark moment. The Book of Esther is about a Jewish community living in ancient Persia whose very survival is threatened by an edict to destroy all the Jews. As a result of a "last minute" act of heroism by Esther, the Jews are spared. This event is celebrated each year at this time by coming together in synagogues, reading aloud the Book of Esther-booing the villain (Haman) and cheering the heroes (Esther and her cousin, Mordechai). For a single day, ritual solemnity is replaced by laughter and frivolity; the synagogue becomes a place where the community can laugh in the face of sorrow.
This year, Purim could not come at a better time. In preparation for Purim, it is customary to lighten the spirits of those around us with a bit of humor. A person can only absorb so much pain, sorrow, worry and stress before one's own health becomes an issue. So, let's set aside our worldly concerns for a moment and (hopefully!) enjoy a good "Purim" chuckle:
A rabbi who's been leading a congregation for many years is upset by the fact that he's never been able to eat pork. So he devises a plan whereby he flies to a remote tropical island and checks into a hotel. He immediately gets himself a table at the finest restaurant and orders the most expensive pork dish on the menu. As he's eagerly waiting for it to be served, he hears his name called from across the restaurant. He looks up to see 10 of his loyal congregants approaching. His luck, they'd chosen the same time to visit the same remote location! Just at that moment, the waiter comes out with a huge silver tray carrying a whole roasted pig with an apple in its mouth. The rabbi looks up sheepishly at his congregants and says, "Wow - you order an apple in this place and look how it's served!"
The celebration of Purim begins on Saturday night, March 19 and continues on Sunday, March 20. Take this moment to visit the lighter side of life. Then, on Monday, return to the task of improving this world, reinvigorated and refreshed.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Vayikra posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/11/11 | Torah Portion: Vayikra
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 1:1-5:26
March 11, 2011
Leviticus, the 3rd book of the Torah, deals primarily with the establishment of the ancient sacrificial cult. In a significant departure from the practices of the other near eastern religions, the ancient Israelites forbade human sacrifice. Furthermore, our God was not dependent on animal sacrifice for food. Instead, sacrifice became the ancient means of drawing nearer to God.
The first example of sacrifice in the Torah is when Cain offers God a gift of produce and Abel the choicest of his flock. The Torah tells us that only Abel’s sacrifice was found acceptable suggesting that animal sacrifice was God’s preference. Later, Noah offers an animal sacrifice in honor of having survived the flood. The Torah also records sacrifices offered by Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The book of Leviticus begins the process of institutionalizing and centralizing a practice that had previously existed on an individual basis.
The Eitz Hayim Humash notes, “People must have felt that their prayers of gratitude or petition would seem more sincerely offered if they gave up something of their own in the process. Presumably, this is why game and fish were unacceptable as offerings. “I cannot sacrifice to the Lord my God burnt offerings that have cost me nothing (2 Samuel 24:24).” Sacrifice implies a willingness to give up something you possess. In ancient times, this meant taking of the choicest of your flock or herd and offering it as a sacrifice of thanks or as a way of seeking forgiveness. On the seasonal holidays of Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot, it meant offering the choicest of your harvest. Understood on a more philosophical plane, Judaism taught from the outset that life requires sacrifice.
With the destruction of the 2nd Temple in Jerusalem (70 c.e.), the sacrificial cult was abruptly halted. By this time, a new form of ritual worship had developed in fledgling centers called synagogues. It was called Tefila, or “prayer.” No longer would we sacrifice animals or first fruits to give thanks, ask forgiveness, or beseech God’s help. Instead, we would offer prayer of the heart. The late Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel cautioned against viewing prayer as a substitute for sacrifice. He wrote, “Prayer is not a substitute for sacrifice. Prayer is sacrifice. . in true prayer, we try to surrender our vanities, to burn our insolence, to abandon bias, dishonesty, envy. Prayer is the means through which we sacrifice our selfishness and greed and get in touch with our powers for truth, mercy, and love.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Pekudai posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/04/11 | Torah Portion: Pekudai
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 38:21-40:38
March 4, 2011
This section of Torah is an accountants dream. Moses gives a full audit of items and expenses involved in building the portable sanctuary in the desert. The Torah states, “These are the records of the Tabernacle. . .which were drawn up at Moses’ bidding (Exo. 38:21).”
The ancient rabbis and biblical commentators describe Moses as meticulous in accounting for every item used in the construction of the portable sanctuary, every contribution made, and every expense incurred. In fact, this is done not by a request from the people, but at the bidding of Moses, himself. For Moses, accountability by public officials is a moral responsibility. Public officials must be beyond reproach. Why insist on such accountability? The Midrash Tanhuma (among the oldest books of Jewish legend) writes that Moses wanted to avoid even a rumor that he might be misusing public funds or have anyone saying, “Look how well he is eating and drinking. He is living off our money. He is getting rich from our donations.” Therefore, he opened the community financial records to everyone.
From the actions of Moses, the Talmud developed a standard requiring those aspiring to, or holding positions of leadership to live “Lif’neem M’shoret Ha’din”-above and beyond the requirements of the law. If the law required filing tax returns each year, an effective community leader exceeds the essential by also making his returns public. In 1977, two weeks after having taken office, President Jimmy Carter held his famous “fireside chat.” During the first major energy crisis, he asked Americans to sacrifice in the interest of building a stronger America. In a unique (and symbolic) act he, himself, dismissed 20 limousines used by the White House, ate his meals in the White House cafeteria and closely monitored the heat and air conditioning use on Capitol Hill. Even though Carter’s presidency was doomed by an abundance of idealism with little room for pragmatism, this gesture in the early days of his incumbency was well-received by a majority of Americans.
Over 3,000 years later, we are still trying to find the leadership qualities of Moses in our leaders. Today’s politicians are more impressed with power and prestige than more humble achievements of honesty and trust. Jewish tradition maintains that public officials must be above suspicion. The community must have full confidence in the integrity and honesty of those chosen to serve.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayakhel posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/25/11 | Torah Portion: Vayakhel
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 35:1-38:20
February 25, 2011
“You shall kindle no fire throughout your settlements on the Sabbath day (Exo. 35:3).”
After the six days of creation, God rested on the seventh day-Shabbat (the Sabbath day). Therefore, in observance of Shabbat, one abstains from work and acts of creation on the seventh day of the week (Saturday). This includes lighting, extinguishing, or transferring a fire on Shabbat.
The ancient rabbis understood the prohibition of fire to mean fires kindled on the Sabbath, but not fires that were started before the Sabbath. In times when fire not only lit candles, but was depended upon for heating, cooking, and lighting, it was important to light the necessary fires before the Sabbath to provide for the needs of the day. During the early centuries of the common era there was a Jewish group, known as “Karaites” (literally, “literalists”), who only recognized the literal word of the Torah. They refused to light candles before the Sabbath or kindle any form of fire before or during the day. In fact, they spent their entire Sabbath in the dark!
Today, few of us depend on a fire in the home for warmth, cooking, or lighting. Electricity and natural gas provide a more reasonable alternative. This does not mean this portion of Torah is no longer relevant. In the rabbinic spirit of interpretation, fire needn’t be just a physical flame. The Eitz Hayim Humash writes, “You shall kindle no fire” is interpreted to include the fire of anger. Arguments and angry shouts are as much a disruption of Shabbat as working and spending money.”
The radio waves and television channels are bursting at the seams with talking heads yelling, calling names, and angrily arguing with one another. This inflammatory display of meanness and disrespect has found its way into the lexicon of the average American. Whether it be road rage, gossip, disrespect, or verbal abuse, it solves no issues nor does it have any place on the holiest day of the year-Shabbat. In Talmudic Aramaic we say “Adirabah”, or “quite the contrary.” The Shabbat is a time to exercise restraint over our lives and actions. For one day a week, we can try to consciously guard our tongue and assuage our anger. In doing so, we might just learn to see those closest to us in a more favorable and loving light, and we may be able to extend the exercise to a second day, and a third, and a fourth. . .
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Ki Tissa posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/18/11 | Torah Portion: Ki Tissa
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 30:9-34:35
February 18, 2011
Moses ascends Mt. Sinai to receive the two tablets of the Law. “When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, the people gathered against Aaron and said to him, “Come, make us a god who shall go before us, for that man Moses, who brought us from the land of Egypt-we do not know what has happened to him. (Exo. 32:1).”
In the absence of a leader mob psychology takes over. The people gather together (safety in numbers) and assail Aaron, the high priest and 2nd in command, demanding he construct an idol (like those in Egypt) they may worship. According to the legends of the ancient rabbis, Moses had only been gone six hours before the people began assembling. Torah scholar Pinchas Peli writes, “This always seemed to me to be one of the most shocking passages in the Bible, while also among the most revealing as to the complexities of human nature. Moses is but a few hours late and they, without much hesitation, with little reservation, unashamedly re-write history: this calf is your god which brought you out of the land of Egypt! How swift and how shocking. And how typical of mass psychology. They, the masses, must have a leader. . .They are ready to follow blindly any leader, be he a Moses or a Golden Calf.”
There is a startling similarity both in proximity to current events and the nature of the events. In the past several weeks, we witnessed the toppling of two autocratic rulers in Tunisia and Egypt. In both cases, it was the masses rising up. In both cases, the number of protestors was so great there was no hope for the ruling regime. Most notably, with regard to Egypt, there was also no single leader of the protest movement, leading one to speculate on what the future has in store. What will the new Egypt look like? Amidst their celebration of freedom and democracy, a female American reporter is beaten and sexually-abused by a mob purportedly shouting “Jew, Jew.” And she wasn’t even Jewish! In the absence of strong and visionary leadership even the most committed will succumb to mob psychology.
The Israelites would not have survived the desert, much less themselves, without being shepherded and parented by Moses, and guided by the moral/ethical ideals of Torah. Who are the shepherds, parents, and guides for the masses who gathered in Tahrir Square in Cairo? With each new day, a new gathering of protestors in another autocratic Arab country rises against their government and, like Egypt, heavy on enthusiasm but lacking in leadership. Part of us wants to cheer on their fight for freedom. Another part of us fears the unknown. And, of course, we think to ourselves, “Is it good for the Jews?” It was then, is it still the case now?
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Terumah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/04/11 | Torah Portion: Terumah
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 25:1-27:19
February 4, 2011
Though separated by thousands of miles, it is still difficult to escape the large-scale protests taking place in Egypt. The prospect of toppling the Mubarak regime and replacing it with an unknown form of government is both compelling and frightening. As a Jew, I want to see every human being given their inalienable right to freedom, but how will this freedom be defined? Will we end up with another fundamentalist Islamic state sworn to the destruction of Israel or will the peace treaty between Egypt and Israel be continued? Every “talking head” and “regional expert” agree on one thing-no one knows what to expect!
This week’s Torah portion details the process of building a portable sanctuary in the desert. First, funds have to be raised. “The Lord spoke to Moses saying: Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts: you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him” (Exo. 25:1-2). Torah scholar Pinchas Peli asks, “God who bestowed the Law upon them; God who split the sea for their safe crossing; God who gave them the heavenly bread and provided for their upkeep in the desert-God requests from them, that they shall give Him gifts of gold and silver and brass. Does God really need their gold or silver or brass?”
Peli’s question is rhetorical. Of course God does not need earthly gifts, but until the Israelites are required to make a real contribution to their future, God cannot know the measure of their commitment. To this point, it was easy for the Israelites to become caught up in the fiery excitement of witnessing the revelation of God on Mt. Sinai. It took little effort, amidst this carnival of enthusiasm, to get the people to accept the precepts of Torah. At Sinai they joyously proclaimed, “We shall do and we shall obey.” Reciting slogans, chants, and songs of praise is not the same as actually dirtying one’s hands in the process of people building. Demonstrations suggest one’s intent; participating in the act of building shows commitment. God required the Israelites to demonstrate their commitment by donating something precious and real to the construction of a community house of worship. If the people are willing to part with their silver and gold, then they are committed not just in words, but actions.
As I write this posting, the Egyptian people are demonstrating their desire for greater freedom and democracy. In the inevitable vacuum created by the departure of the present regime, will new leaders emerge willing to commit themselves to the hard work of restoring freedoms and building a democracy? Over 3,500 years ago, it was the Israelites who rose up in protest against Pharaoh and Egypt. Today there is a new pharaoh in Egypt and a new population of Israelites (albeit Egyptian) rising up. Would that their success mirror that of their ancient counterparts.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Mishpatim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/28/11 | Torah Portion: Mishpatim
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 21:1-24:18
January 28, 2011
From Sunday school thru adulthood we are taught that the Exodus from Egypt is about going from “slavery to freedom.” Yet, the first verses in this Torah portion deal with how the recently-freed Israelites should treat their slaves: “When you acquire a Hebrew slave, he shall serve six years; in the seventh year he shall go free, without payment (Exo. 21:2).”
Most of the Torah commentators either say little about these opening verses of chapter 21 or point out that the institution of slavery in ancient Israel existed on a much higher moral/ethical plane. The late contemporary Bible scholar Nahum Sarna writes, “Biblical legislation is directed toward enhancing the social and legal status of this human chattel. This humanitarian approach expresses itself in a variety of ways: The slave is termed “your brother”, he possesses an inalienable right to rest on Shabbat and festivals; when circumcised, and thus identified with the covenant between God and Israel, he participates in the Passover offering; a fugitive slave may not be extradited and is accorded protection from maltreatment and the right to live wherever he chooses.”
There is no doubt that the early Israelites accepted slavery as a given part of the social order. What, then, was the exodus from Egypt about? It seems clear that it was not slavery that compelled Moses to act and God to bring the plagues upon the Egyptians, rather the way the slaves were being treated. The Israelites existed in Egypt as simply chattel (property) with limited to no rights, while being subjected to de-humanizing and oppressive conditions.
Once free from the abominable circumstances they lived with, the real task facing this new nation of people was learning to assume responsibility for themselves. As slaves, they were totally dependent on their masters for the food they ate, clothes they wore, and daily activities. Now, in the absence of tyranny they need to learn responsibility. Not an easy task.
In the 90’s, with the lifting of the “iron curtain” and the toppling of the Berlin wall, there was a naive notion that democracy and freedom would immediately be embraced. Twenty years later, the former Soviet Union is still wrestling with its autocratic past. When Iraq was freed from the horrors of Saddam Hussein, we declared “mission accomplished;” Iraq was now a democracy. Ten years later, the jury is still out. It takes time to change the mindset of people who have spent decades and centuries living with fear and oppression.
There was a more direct route from Egypt to the Promised Land, but Moses choose a more circuitous one; one that would take 40 years. It would take at least this much time to wean the former slaves from the breast of oppressive slavery and condition a new generation to the responsibilities of freedom.
The real tragedy of Egypt was not that Jews were slaves, but as slaves they were deprived of freedoms, rights, and responsibilities; the foundation pieces defining humanity.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Yitro posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/21/11 | Torah Portion: Yitro
Book of Exodus
January 21, 2011
Commandment No. 1: “I the Lord am your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, the house of bondage: You shall have no other gods besides Me (Exo. 20:2-3)”
The Israelites have been freed from slavery, left Egypt, arrived at Mt. Sinai and now experience the revelation of God and Torah with the handing down of the 10 Commandments.
The 20th century Jewish theologian Martin Buber was once asked by a Christian scholar, “Do you believe in God?” Buber did not know how to respond at the moment but later said, “If believing in God means being able to speak of Him in the third person, then I probably do not believe in God.” Buber’s point is knowing God requires a “first person” relationship. When I say I have heard Paul McCartney sing and know all about him, it doesn’t mean I actually know him. Rabbi Ismar Schorsch writes, “To be real, activating, and redemptive, our faith in God must be grounded in personal experience.” This is why the Decalogue (10 Commandments) begins with the above commandment.
Before presenting the Israelites with the mitzvot/obligations they will assume by accepting the Torah, God first introduces himself to them; lays the groundwork for a personal and intimate relationship (“I the Lord am your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, the house of bondage”). The midrash (Jewish legend) tells the story of a foreign ruler who comes to a certain country offering to conduct their affairs. The citizenry are justifiably skeptical. “Why should we turn over the responsibility for managing our realm to someone we hardly know?” The stranger hears them, backs off, and then constructs an aqueduct for their water needs and defeats enemies that intend them harm. Then, and only then, does the citizenry entrust their affairs to the foreign ruler. He is no longer foreign. They know him.
In keeping with the philosophy of Buber, one does not develop a relationship with God by attending classes in comparative theology or learning about the basics of Jewish belief. The only way to find God is by opening your mind, heart, and soul to spiritual encounter and experience. It might occur atop a mountain, gazing at a beautiful sunset, experiencing a birth, mourning a death, or a moment of intense love for another. These are the moments that change lives. God is to be discovered amidst the change. Abraham Joshua Heschel speaks of such a moment using the Kotel (western wall in Jerusalem) as a metaphor. He writes, “Once you have lived a moment at the Wall, you never go away.”
This is what it means to believe in God; to encounter God in a Divine moment that defines the rest of your life.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Violence In America posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/14/11 | Violence In America
January 14, 2011
The Talmud (compendium of Jewish law) teaches that the tongue is an instrument so dangerous that it must be kept hidden from view, behind two protective walls (the mouth and teeth) to prevent its misuse. We also learn that the harm done by lashon hara (gossip, rumor, libel, or false innuendo) is even worse than the harm done by stealing or by cheating someone financially. Amends can be made for monetary harms, but the harm done by an evil tongue can never be repaired.
I doubt a direct relational existence between the recent act of violence in Tucson, Arizona and the lack of civility in public discourse. The young man allegedly responsible for the deaths and injuries in Tucson seems to have been tormented by demons of his own making. Still, in a country where political discourse is metaphorically framed in expressions of violence and symbolically represented by gun sights and targets, the subject of civility and decency did not take long to emerge.
David Brooks, a conservative op-ed columnist for the New York Times, profoundly observes, “Over the past few decades, people have lost a sense of their own sinfulness. Children are raised amid a chorus of applause. Politics has become less about institutional restraint and more about giving voters whatever they want at that second. Joe DiMaggio didn’t ostentatiously admire his own home runs, but now athletes routinely celebrate themselves as part of the self-branding process. So, of course, you get narcissists who believe they or members of their party possess direct access to the truth. Of course you get people who prefer monologue to dialogue. Of course you get people who detest politics because it frustrates their ability to get 100 percent of what they want. Of course you get people who gravitate toward the like-minded and loathe their political opponents. They feel no need for balance and correction.
Beneath all the other things that have contributed to polarization and the loss of civility, the most important is this: The roots of modesty have been carved away.”
I am one who believes in gun control, but who does not believe the control of guns will suddenly curb the violence and political mayhem. This is a time when rabbis, priests, and ministers need to address the need for “balance and correction” in the way we relate-through discourse and action-with one another. One reaches for a gun when they see those on the other side as heretics rather than critics.
Brooks further notes, “Every sensible person involved in politics and public life knows that their work is laced with failure.” Failure, in turn, becomes an opening for help, assistance, and constructive critique from others. Legislation becomes a cooperative enterprise involving people of same commitment but with differing opinion. Leaders become models to those whom they lead. In the 1930’s and 40’s the children’s heroes were Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt. Who are they today? You don’t need me to answer the question!
David Brooks concluded his article by quoting from the American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr who wrote, “Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore, we must be saved by hope. ... Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we are saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore, we must be saved by the final form of love, which is forgiveness.”
We can not bring back the lives of those murdered in Tucson, but we can honor their memory and re-direct this nation by learning and teaching civility in what we say, and consequently what we do.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Bo posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/07/11 | Torah Portion: Bo
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 10:1-13:16
January 7, 2011
After seven plagues, an eighth pending, and the Egyptian people tottering beneath a burden of suffering, Pharaoh gives consideration to his servants plea, “How long will this one [Moses] be a snare to us. Let the [Israelite] people go to worship the Lord their God! Are you not yet aware that Egypt is lost? (Exo. 10:7)”
Pharaoh summons Moses and Aaron telling them, “Go, worship the Lord your God,” he then asks “Who are the ones to go?” One could understand Pharaoh to mean, “Moses, do you think that anyone is actually going to leave and follow you into the desert?” Just as Pharaoh was blind to the suffering of his own people through the first seven plagues, he was equally ignorant of the unhappiness and rebellion in the slave ranks of the Israelites. His power and authority-and the constant false praise from those around him-removed Pharaoh from the reality of his rule. Simply stated, he was out of touch.
There is an age-old axiom, “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Too often, those who seek to lead do so to give voice to the people, only to be swallowed up in the pomp & circumstance of their new position.
The plethora of new congressmen/women who took their oath of office this week are giving rise to a new phenomena in Washington, DC. Hansen Clarke, a newly-elected democrat from Michigan told the New York Times, ““Washington is not going to be a home for me — I’m only there to work. I need to be able to work up to 20 hours a day and still get some decent sleep, and if I sleep in my office I’ll be able to do that.” Joe Walsh, a Republican Congressman from Illinois said, “It just seemed like sleeping in my office, just focusing totally on my work when I’m here, made the most sense. I don’t want to think about where I’m living, I don’t want to think about what I’m eating; I want to get in, do my work and then get home and talk to the people who sent me here.” A growing number of elected representatives will undoubtedly be “wined & dined” in the years ahead, but will be instantly reminded who they are and what they are in Washington to do as they return to their office in the evening to inflate an air mattress next to their desk.
Being an effective leader is no different than being an effective Pharaoh, one must be able to see through a facade of privilege and royalty to the task of representing and empowering those for whom one serves. In this respect, Pharaoh failed, the Egyptian people suffered, and the Israelites-through the humble and God-inspired leadership of Moses, won their freedom.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
New Years 2011 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/31/10 | New Year’s 2011
“We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives... not looking for flaws, but for potential.”
-Ellen Goodman
The “Jewish” new year challenges the soul of humankind. One is asked to do introspection; to heal the spiritual wounds that held one back from achieving his/her potential. The “Secular” new year is about the physical process of achievement; applying one’s spiritual qualities to the actual task of improving our lives.
When you clear away the smokescreen of celebratory drinking, balls dropping in Times Square, and football, what remains are those annual resolutions: spend more time with family & friends, exercise more, eat better, quit smoking, get out of debt, help others, etc. This, in turn, is usually accompanied by the cynicism of those like Oscar Wilde who wrote, “Good resolutions are simply checks that men draw on a bank where they have no account.”
In spite of what is said or written, it is sadly understandable why homelessness and poverty continue to increase, schools continue to fail, people are getting fatter and sicker, unhappiness and depression are on the rise, and disappointment & disillusionment reign supreme. What we say in resolution and do in reality are very different. Or, maybe Alexander Graham Bell had it right when he said, "When one door closes another door opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us."
January 1 is the day “one door closes another door opens.” Our task is not to give up on ourselves, our family, our community, or even our country, but to actively purse that “open door” even if it doesn’t immediately present itself. It all starts with a simple resolution followed on January 2 by placing one foot in front of the other; taking that first step to change, renewal, and a better life. The next day will be even easier.
See you in the gym and Happy New Year!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayehi posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/17/10 | Torah Portion: Vayehi
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 47:28-50:26
December 17, 2010
Thornton Wilder’s novel The Bridge of San Luis Rey tells of a rope bridge in a small Peruvian village that collapses, sending five people to their death. The event is witnessed by a Catholic priest, Brother Juniper, who becomes obsessed with trying to understand why God would let something so tragic occur. In researching the lives of the five who perished, Juniper discovers they all had one thing in common: a love relationship they had each recently resolved. The book concludes with Juniper noting, “Soon we shall die and all memory of those five will have left the earth. We ourselves shall be loved for a while and forgotten. But the love will have been enough. . .There is a land of the living and a land of the dead, and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.”
This same theme is reflected in the final Torah portion of the Book of Genesis. After being re-settled in Egypt and reconciled with his children, Jacob approaches the final days of his life. On his death bed, Jacob recalls the dreams and visions he had for his life. He remembers with sorrow the death of his beloved wife Rachel: “I buried her on the road to Eprath, now Bethlehem (Gen. 48:7).” Amidst a life of success and failure, great moments of happiness and desperate times of despair, one constant in the life of Jacob that kept him going were the precious moments of love he shared with Rachel. Rabbi Harold Kushner says it best: “When I was young, I wanted to change the world. I wanted to be so important that everyone would know my name. I may not have done that, but along the way, I loved someone. I changed her life and she changed mine, and that meant everything. That made it all worthwhile.”
Alfred Lord Tennyson writes in his poem In Memoriam:
I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
What authors, poets, and storytellers have noted over centuries is the power and fulfillment of even a moment of love. No material possession, handsome salary, or fame can hold a candle to the complete and total fulfillment of body & soul imbued in a moment of love. When the 20th century Jewish theologian Martin Buber was asked, “Where is God?”, his answer was “God is found in relationships. God is not found in people; God is found between people.”
The greatest fear in dying is having not lived, and by that I mean having not loved. Jacob approached his death surrounded by family, but comforted in the knowledge he had known love and been loved. He had lived and was prepared to accept death. May our lives be long, our days fulfilled but may our fear of death be assuaged by our moments of love. It is in these moments we encounter God.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayigash posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/10/10 | Torah Portion: Vayigash
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 44:18-45:27
December 10, 2010
Jacob’s sons come down to Egypt seeking food in a time of famine. Unbeknownst to them, their brother Joseph, who they arranged to have sold into slavery in Egypt, has risen to great heights in the hierarchy of Egyptian life. In fact, it is Joseph from whom the brothers make their request for food. Joseph recognizes them, but they no longer recognize him. After playing with their emotions, and even conveniently arranging for their youngest brother Benjamin to be taken into Egyptian custody, Joseph is confronted by his brother Judah.
Judah, the very brother who first proposed selling Joseph to the caravan of traders heading to Egypt, is now appealing to him to not detain his brother, Benjamin. Judah offers himself to be taken into custody in the place of Benjamin. Clearly, these are not the same brothers who sold Joseph into slavery twenty-two years earlier. Either because of the inconsolable grief of their father Jacob over the perceived loss of Joseph or the maturity of years, they have changed. This is especially true of Judah. Judah’s appeal reduces Joseph to tears and reconciliation with his long-lost family.
While the character of Joseph receives top-billing in this biblical drama, the most important character may be Judah. Rabbi Ismar Schorsch, former chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary, notes, “Judah grows from a callous and self-indulgent man into a compassionate and courageous leader. Joseph is graced with God’s favor from the beginning. Whatever the setbacks, he is destined to triumph. But his character remains static. Judah, on the other hand, starts out a villain and ends up a hero, evincing the human capacity to mature and change in all its glory.”
For Judah, as for all of us, virtue is not a gift but a goal. In today’s world, casting judgment and aspersion has morphed from a rude mannerism to a public sport. A slip of the tongue or ill-advised action results in a media feeding frenzy and character assassination regardless of the truth or a person’s changed attitudes. On a personal level, how quick are we to dismiss people without taking the time to know them? How willing are we to forgive shortcomings in others and warmly receive those who have made the effort to change? Virtue is not innate but a goal that stands before all of us. We all possess the abilities to change, just as we all possess the power to forgive.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Hanukkah vs. Christmas posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/03/10 | Hanukkah 5771/2010
December 3, 2010
Every so often I stumble upon an article articulating my thoughts better than I. Currently amidst the celebration of Hanukkah (Wednesday evening, December 1 through Thursday, December 9), I want to share a piece written by Dr. Ron Wolfson of the American Jewish University In Los Angeles. Dr. Wolfson has devoted his career to bringing Jews closer to the celebration and fulfillment of Judaism. Here are his thoughts, and mine, on the ever-present Hanukkah/Christmas dilemma:
“Early childhood educators tell us that one of the most crucial stages in socialization occurs when a child is between 18 and 30 months old and attends another child's birthday party. When the birthday cake is brought in, most of the little guests try to blow out the candles right along with the birthday child. As the child opens presents, little hands start to grab for the toys. Why do you think "party favors" were invented? To help children begin to distinguish between what's mine and what's his/hers. Toddlers must learn the difference between celebrating one's own birthday and celebrating someone else's.
Thus many Jewish educators will advise parents to give their children who want to celebrate Christmas a very important message: Christmas is someone else's party, not ours. Just as we can appreciate someone else's birthday celebration and be happy for them, we can wonder at how beautiful Christmas is, but it is not our party. And then many parents make a perfectly understandable, but incomplete, leap. "Christmas is for Christians. They have Christmas. We are Jewish. We have Hanukkah." In an attempt to substitute something for Christmas, the parent offers Hanukkah. In fact, Hanukkah is even better than Christmas. "Christmas is only one day. Hanukkah is for eight!" So now, incredible as it seems, the parental anxiety leads to the teaching that our party lasts longer, offers more presents, and is just as beautiful.
Of course, the problem is that it just isn't true. Hanukkah cannot hold a candle to Christmas. As we have learned, it is a minor event in the Jewish holiday cycle and has never, until recently, been viewed as a central celebration for the Jewish people. Therefore, the customs and ceremonies surrounding Hanukkah pale by comparison to those of Christmas--which is one of the two major holidays of Christianity.
In fact, it seems clear that among Jews who stand on the periphery of Jewish life, the attempt to combat Christmas with Hanukkah is doomed to failure. Even the sometimes outrageous attempts by mass marketers to inflate the importance of Hanukkah as the "Jewish alternative" to Christmas feel wrong in some fundamental way. "Hanukkah Harry" and "Hanukkah bushes" and even "Smiley Shalom," a Jewish version of "Frosty the Snowman," cannot hope to compete with the magnificence of the Christmas celebration.
The answer to the child is incomplete. "We're Jewish--we have Hanukkah" is only the beginning of the response. "We're Jewish, and we have Hanukkah, Sukkot, Passover, Shavuot, Purim, Simchat Torah, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Lag B'Omer, Yom Ha'atzma'ut, Tu B'shvat--and, most importantly, Shabbat every week." The child who has experienced the building of a sukkah will not feel deprived of trimming a tree. The child who has participated in a meaningful Passover Seder will not feel deprived of Christmas dinner. The child who has paraded with the Torah on Simchat Torah, planted trees at Tu B'shvat, brought first fruits at Shavuot, given mishloah manot at Purim, and welcomed the Shabbat weekly with candles and wine and challah by the time s/he is three years old will understand that to be Jewish is to be enriched by a calendar brimming with joyous celebration.
Then, of course, there are parents who believe that the December lesson, that Jews are different than almost everybody else, is an inescapable part of being Jewish, unless you live in Israel. There is a great value in being unique, different, valuable in your own right. In fact, for them, the celebration of Hanukkah in proximity to Christmas is a boon. They want their children to identify with the Maccabees' struggle for religious liberty and for the right not to assimilate into the majority culture. Is this not the very same struggle that we Jews living in a predominantly Christian society must also wage?
At the same time, most Jews are comfortable in North American society. The great promise of religious freedom has indeed created the diversity of culture that characterizes the free world. When we live side by side with other people of other religions, we must respect and appreciate their customs, arts, and traditions.
What does appreciation mean? It means that there is nothing wrong with enjoying the beauty of someone else's celebration. Is there any doubt that the music of Christmas is lovely and quite moving? Any number of rabbis and educators will admit that they are "closet carolers." How can one grow up in this culture and not learn the words to "White Christmas"? Can we deny the beauty of the Christmas tree, its ornaments and decorations? Not really. Shall we be embarrassed at finding ourselves moved to tears by the Christmas scene in It's a Wonderful Life? If we are strong in our Jewish commitments, there is little danger that appreciating the warmth and beauty of another's holiday will threaten our fundamental identity.
But appreciation does not mean appropriation. Because appropriation leads to confusion, loss of identity and ultimately, assimilation. And assimilation is what the Maccabees and generations of Jews after them fought so hard to prevent. To appropriate Christmas into our homes would give posthumous victory to Antiochus. Christmas does not belong in a Jewish home--period.”
A happy and fulfilling Hanukkah to all.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Thanksgiving 5771 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/26/10 | Thanksgiving 2010/5771
November 26, 2010
On December 11, 1620, 102 Puritan pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock. Their first winter was devastating. By the following fall, 46 of the original pilgrims had died. Nonetheless, the harvest of 1621 was a bountiful one. The remaining pilgrims celebrated the harvest with a feast. They invited 91 native Americans to join them. These were Indians who helped them survive the winter, plant the crops, and begin their lives in the New World. The original feast of Thanksgiving lasted 3 days.
Nearly 400 years later, Americans still celebrate Thanksgiving with stories and legends about the original Puritan pilgrims. At many Thanksgiving tables there is, no doubt, also mention made of personal thankfulness for crises averted, health challenges overcome, and life-changing events and experiences. For this reason, I find Thanksgiving to be the most compelling national holiday on the calendar. New Year’s is a time for over-the-top celebration and too much drinking. The 4th of July is all about fireworks. Memorial Day and Labor Day is the Indianapolis 500 and a day off. Thanksgiving, though, is about family-nuclear, extended, or just a family of friends. It is about relationships with people; appreciation for the souls we have gathered around us or become a part of. With often reckless disregard for early winter storms, more people travel “home” on Thanksgiving than at any other time of year. In 234 years of US history, no other legislated secular celebration-and very few religious ones-even approach the thoughtful, thankful, and meaningful ritual of the annual Thanksgiving feast.
In the book of Ecclesiastes it is written, “Go eat your bread in gladness and drink your wine in joy.” Rabbi Harold Kushner, in his book When All You’ve Ever Wanted Isn’t Enough, explains this verse by writing, “What is life about? It is not about writing great books, amassing great wealth, achieving great power. It is about loving and being loved. It is about enjoying your food and sitting in the sun rather than rushing through lunch and hurrying back to the office. It is about savoring the beauty of moments that don’t last. . .the rare moments of true human communication.” And, isn’t this what Thanksgiving is all about?
Sometimes returning home, sharing a meal with old acquaintances, is accompanied by painful anticipation. But, on Thanksgiving, we do it, anyway. Why? Because within our heart of hearts we have come to understand we are all mortal, our existence on this earth is but a fleeting moment. Allowing shallow pride or enmity to steal the precious and limited time we have with one another is a transgression we can ill afford.
I am thankful for so much in my life and so much of what I am thankful for has a place at my Thanksgiving table.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Vayishlach posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/19/10 | Torah Portion: Va’yishlach
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 32:4-36:43
November 19, 2010
On the eve of an uncertain reunion with his brother Esau, Jacob worries about what sort of reception he can expect. Having cheated Esau out of his birthright and his rightful blessing as the first born, Jacob pauses to reflect on the type of person he has become. The Torah reports, “Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. When he saw that he had not prevailed against him, he wrenched Jacob’s hip at the socket, so that the socket of his hip was strained as he wrestled with him (Gen. 32: 25-26).” Some commentators suggest the above incident was a dream or vision. The man who wrestled with Jacob was an angel of God. Others suggest the entire incident is a metaphor for wrestling with one’s conscience.
Jacob would not give in to his divine intruder until he received something in return. “I will not let you go until you bless me.” Said the other, “What is your name?” He replied, “Jacob.” Said he, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human and prevailed (Gen. 32: 27-29).” For Jacob, a change in name from Ya’akov (he who held on to the heal of his brother) to Yisrael (he who wrestled with God), became a change in character and personality.
Rabbi Bradley Artson asks, “Can people change? Or is it more likely that human beings’ fundamental characteristics remain constant throughout their lifetimes? Judaism insists that people are dynamic. Throughout our lives we struggle to determine what kind of person we wish to be.”
Judaism offers tools to enrich each of our individual struggles. Talmud Torah (Jewish learning) deepens our understanding and appreciation for life and for those who live them, Mitzvot (commandments or obligations) provide an action plan for making this a better world for all people, and Tefilot (prayer) gives us daily reminders and inspiration for the task at hand.
Artson continues in his commentary by writing, “At night, left alone, Jacob suddenly finds himself wrestling with someone whom he cannot identify. Is this a person or an angel, or is it the embodiment of his own doubts and failings? We never learn the answer to that question. But we do learn what it takes to remake one’s own character-the ability to hold on. Jacob refuses to let go and he wrestles the stranger throughout the night.”
If we learn to see ourselves as works in progress, and not projects completed, then we can continue to re-shape our being and mold our presence into one that proudly declares the innate qualities of goodness and kindness we all possess. All it requires is effort, time, insight, and commitment.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Toldot posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/05/10 | Torah Portion: Toldot
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 25:19-28:9
November 5, 2010
The most important attribute a parent can instill in a child is self-esteem. In the Book of Leviticus we are taught, “Love your neighbor like yourself” (Lev. 19:18), implying that one must acquire a love for oneself before being able to demonstrate a mature love for another.
This week’s Torah portion begins, “This is the family line of Isaac, son of Abraham: Abraham fathered Isaac” (Gen. 25:10). Yechiel of Alexander, an influential Polish Hasidic rabbi of the late 19th century, writes, “Isaac never thought of himself as being much at all, other than the “son of Abraham”; everything depended on the merit of his father. Abraham, for his part, had never thought that he had done or accomplished much in the service of God or that he had earned any particular merit except for one thing: that he had raised up a worthy son- “Abraham fathered Isaac.” It was a holy way that they did not see themselves as worthwhile in their own eyes; instead their merit came either through their parents or their children.”
Yechiel suggests, in the case of Isaac, that the most important expression of respect for one’s parents is liking who we are. Yet at other times, like Abraham, our identity is defined by our children. One must be wary of allowing personal identity to become totally dependent on one or the other-parents or children. Isaac grew up in the shadows of his father Abraham’s greatness. Allowed to define himself solely in relation to his father would be to deny his uniqueness as a human being. Similarly, seeking an identity through the accomplishments of his children only mask his personal unhappiness. Rabbi Kerry Olitzky notes, “When we feel our “greatness” is a result of both our parents and our children, our sense of fulfillment, and even holiness is heightened.”
Self-esteem might be better understood as self-love. There is nothing wrong with loving who we are. First, we are all fashioned in the image of God. Secondly, we each possess our own unique personality, character, gifts, and talents. We fail when we try to become someone we are not, and even if we don’t fail we are seldom happy with who we’ve become. Take pride in the accomplishments of parents and children, but never lose sight of the specialness that defines oneself.
The prophet Malachi describes the messianic era as a time when “God will turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the hearts of the children to their parents” (Malachi 3:23-24). That is, a time when we will reach out to another not because of need, but want. We will want to share the love discovered within with others.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Haye Sarah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/29/10 | Torah Portion: Haye Sarah
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 23:1-25:18
October 29, 2010
The Torah portion begins with the death of Abraham’s wife, Sarah. His first task is to find a suitable location for her burial. To this end, Abraham engages in a negotiation with Ephron the Hittite for the purchase of the Cave of Mahpelah in Hebron. The ancient midrash Genesis Rabbah writes, “This is one of three places where the nations of the world cannot accuse Israel of theft.” The other two are the Temple Mount in Jerusalem purchased by King David and a parcel of land in Shechem (today called Nablus) bought by Jacob. Rabbi Ismar Schorsch notes, “All three spots were not gained by force of arms but legally through bona fide sale.”
With regard to Abraham, hadn’t God already promised him the land of Israel? Why did he insist on purchasing a piece of property in a land already in his possession? Rabbi Brad Artson comments, “Aren’t there people today who claim an exclusive possession of the truth, who insist that their monopoly on morality, or compassion, or divine will, allows them to slander, to slight, to distort, or to oppress? From the liberal chic to the conservative smug, all over the world self-appointed spokespeople of the “correct” view trumpet their own infallibility and moral superiority. . . .And yet, despite his knowledge of God’s gift of Israel to the Jews, Abraham still made a point of respecting the humanity of his Pagan hosts, still insisted on taking seriously the perspective of the Hittites, their customs, and their properties.”
Today, we live in a dangerous world. In this world, the State of Israel resides in an especially tough neighborhood. For the first 62 years of her existence, the secular population has depended upon superior military force and the religious population upon the ancient promise of God to Abraham, as guarantors of Israel’s survival. Neither have brought peace to the land. Israel’s military might has not brought her any closer to peace and the claim of the two opposing sides in the Middle East conflict to Divine right to the land have only served to trump each other. Peace will happen only when each side is willing to lay down their weaponry and set aside Divine promises in the interest of negotiating a lasting peace. Nothing comes free. Abraham paid for property, that he could have argued was his, to maintain peace with the Hittite neighbors. At the end of the day, both Israelis and Palestinians will have to give up some of what they believe is theirs in exchange for making the neighborhood of the Middle East a safe place for all. Isn’t this, in fact, God’s will?
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayera posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/22/10 | Torah Portion: Vayera
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 18:1-22:24
October 22, 2010
I am a sucker for movies that yank at my heart strings. One such film was “Blindside”, the true story of professional football player Michael Oher. It is the story of a poor, homeless black teenager in Memphis, Tennessee who is, literally, taken off the streets by an affluent white family who not only befriend him but, even in the face of social pressure, become his legal guardian. Their acts of care, love, and concern take a young man destined to go no where and make him a success. Currently, Michael is a 24-year old star offensive lineman for the Baltimore Ravens of the National Football League.
The Tuohy family, who took Michael in, is reminiscent of a biblical family who first taught the mitzvah (obligation) of hachnasat or’chim/welcoming strangers. In the Torah portion of Vayera, Abraham is said to have stood at the entrance of his tent looking for strangers and wayfarers who may need a helping hand or a good meal.
There is a Hasidic story of a great rabbi, then poor and unknown, who often traveled to a certain city where the only person who would offer him lodging was a poor Jew who lived in the poor section of town. As years went by and the rabbi acquired fame and fortune, he came again to visit the same city. This time the wealthy head of the community sent to welcome the rabbi, inviting him to stay in his palatial home. The rabbi gratefully accepted the invitation, but sent his horses to the house of the wealthy man, while he himself went directly to the poor home of his old host.
When the rich man came running to express his astonishment, the rabbi explained: When I used to come to this town previously, making my way by foot, you did not think of inviting me to your home. You did so now, when I arrived in town in style, in a splendid carriage pulled by four horses. Obviously it is not me, but the horses that you pay homage to; they should therefore go to your home and be received as the “guests of honor.”
Helping others shouldn’t be dependent on what they have or who they are, but what their needs require. Abraham didn’t first pass judgment on the merits of the three strangers he invited into his tent. They needed a meal and he provided it. Leigh Anne Tuohy didn’t see a large black teenager walking along the road in a cold Memphis rain on Thanksgiving. She saw a poor human being without a jacket, a meal, or anywhere to go, so she stopped her car and picked him up.
In a recent speech to the Florida Coalition for Children, Collins Tuohy, adopted sister of Michael Oher, reminded the audience how the best time of anyone's life is when they are giving. "We had the opportunity to do it with Michael every single day," Tuohy said. "We were the ones who hit the jackpot. We are the ones who got to give every single day."
Most films are a reflection of life. “Blindside” was the story of a real life and yet another affirmation of Abraham’s example of opening our arms and heart to even the stranger.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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A New Day posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/15/10 | A New Day
October 15, 2010
On Tuesday, October 5th, I suffered a heart attack. I was taken to a nearby hospital where a stent was put in, opening the clogged artery. Within 48 hours I was home. By Friday I was engaging in light exercise and returning to a scaled-back schedule. Several factors figured into my survival. I am sharing them with the hope that maybe even one life is changed as a result. The Talmudic tractate Sanhedrin contains the following teaching: “He who saves one life, it is as if he saved an entire world.”
My clogged artery is popularly referred to as the “widow maker” (proximal left anterior descending coronary artery of the heart). I survived the attack because: 1) I responded to the chest pain quickly, 2) I maintain vigorous daily exercise, 3) I pay close attention to my diet, and 4) I follow a daily aspirin regimen. I have always known that I had a genetic proclivity for heart disease (it runs in the family), so I have followed items 2, 3, and 4, “religiously” in the hope of avoiding a heart attack. Now, I realize they also contributed to surviving one.
The human body is a Divine gift protecting the holiness of our soul and being. The only stipulation placed on us is the requirement to care for the health and welfare of the body we possess. The body is not “who we are,” but allows who we are “to be.”
Inactivity, obesity, and neglect of our body is denying our own Divine nature. I do not believe in a God who preordains human sufferings, such as a heart attack. Nor do I believe in a God who can prevent them. I do believe in a partnership between God and humankind. God has made possible the gift of life; we are responsible for its well-being. I also believe God is present in our moments of trauma and despair providing hope and support; holding our hand in the darkness of life.
If you want to continue experiencing the joys of a beautiful sunrise, an awe-inspiring mountain range, the cries and laughter of children and grandchildren, the gentle touch of a soul-mate companion, than commit to some practical steps:
1) Quit smoking. Not tomorrow, today!
2) Join a health club and begin regular daily exercise. Excuses don’t make pounds fall away, physical exercise does. The money saved from snacking and restaurants (especially the fast food variety) will pay for the health club.
3) Meet with your physician or nutritionist and begin a healthy diet. Start by avoiding processed meat (salami, corned beef, etc). Next, consider giving up meat entirely. In fact, the ideal of Kashrut (Jewish dietary laws) is vegetarianism.
It hurts me to see so many young mothers and fathers overweight and under-exercised. Don’t they want to enjoy the fruits of long life accompanied with good health or are they blinded by a myopic view that they’ll have more time to deal with this in the future. They won’t, and the one thing we can be certain about the future is it’s fatal!
Being a spiritual person means recognizing God’s presence in ourselves. Being a religious person means acting upon this realization. The first step is the hardest: Admitting you need help. “I am overweight,” “I have terrible eating habits,” “I really want to quit smoking,” “I know I am out of shape.” The next step is doing something about it.
I am so thankful for my life and the continued opportunity I have to learn and teach Torah, to celebrate with my wife, children, grandchildren, and friends, and to cherish my partnership with God. I pray we all share in the blessings of life for many, many years to come.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Bereisheet posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/01/10 | Torah Portion: Bereisheet
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 1:1-6:8
October 1, 2010
Okay, let’s start again. “In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth” (Gen. 1:1). A simple and straightforward statement, right? Not necessarily. Anyone who knows anything about the Jewish people knows where there exist two sides there is always a third opinion. It is said when you tell a joke to a Jew, even before you’ve had a chance to finish it he’s already interrupting you. First, he’s heard it before. Second, why are you telling it wrong? So he decides to tell you the joke, but in a much better version than yours. But, I digress!
In Rashi’s (Rabbi Shlomo ben Yitzhaki-11th century from France) commentary on the book of Genesis, he cites the following Talmudic statement on the above verse, “Rabbi Isaac said: The Torah should have commenced with the verse “This month shall be to you the first of the months.” What is the reason for beginning with “God created the heaven and the earth”? Answer: Should the peoples of the world say to Israel, “You are robbers, because you took by force the land of Canaan”, Israel can reply to them, “All the earth belongs to God; He created it and gave it to whom He pleased.”
Again, in the spirit of debate, Rabbi Isaac (who lived almost 2,000 years ago) provides both a profound textual insight and some political spin. His point is that the Jewish people have a legitimate claim to the Land of Israel since God-to whom the earth belongs-chose to give them this particular plot of land. These many years later, Rabbi Isaac’s logic remains at the center of an on-going conflict over Israel’s right to exist. Each side in the Middle East conflict makes their own claim of legitimacy based on their understanding of their sacred text. In this instance, each side trumps the other. A new and more creative path must be sought out to bring peace to this region. Again, I digress!
If we only understand Rabbi Isaac’s statement in political terms, we miss the big picture. Rabbi Isaac profoundly notes that the earth does not belong to humankind, but to God. We are only tenants in the lands we live. As such, we bear the responsibility for maintaining the basic elements of life that comprise the earth-clean air and water, a healthy ecosystem, preservation of natural resources, and a respect for all living creatures.
The ancient Midrash says it best, “See my works, how fine and excellent they are! All that I created, I created for you. Reflect on this, and do not corrupt or desolate my world; for if you do, there will be no one to repair it after you.” [Midrash Ecclesiastes Rabbah 7:13]
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Yom Kippur 5771 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/17/10 | Yom Kippur
September 17, 2010
Erich Segal, a former professor of English at Yale University, was the author of the 60’s popular novel (later a movie) titled, “Love Story.” The most memorable sentence in the book proclaimed, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” In the culture of the times, it seemed profound. As I matured, I realized the callousness of such a philosophy. As I became more entrenched in the values and ethics of Judaism, I came to understand the damage caused by such behavior.
“To err is human” (we all make mistakes) and “to forgive is divine.” Yom Kippur is the annual reminder of what is missing in this equation: acknowledging the mistake and apologizing for it. The Jewish concept of repentance is referred to as “tshuvah”, literally, returning to where we were before we veered off the path. The process of “repentance” begins with a recognition of having wronged another. Only then can one begin to address the problem and put forth the effort to overcome it.
The first step in any addiction program is the admission there exists a problem. Most are familiar with the physical addictions to alcohol or drugs. There are also behavioral addictions such as verbal abuse. How often do we allow ourselves to become so overwhelmed with anger that we use hurtful words to strike back? And, how often are the targets of these attacks the one’s closest to us? Just saying “I’m sorry” doesn’t make it go away. True repentance only occurs when the problem is overcome; the addiction under control. However, you have to start some place and saying, “I’m sorry” is that place.
The fact so many Jews come together in the synagogue on Yom Kippur suggests the human desire to be judged before God and humankind; to be challenged to face our shortcomings and admit our guilt. To borrow from another religious tradition, we want to figuratively exorcise the demons within; to cleanse our souls and begin, anew.
The Unitarian minister, G. Peter Fleck, recalls seeing a drama on television in which a man dies and finds himself standing on line, addressed by a bored usher who tells him he can choose either door, the door on the right that leads to heaven or the one on the left that leads to hell.
“You mean I can choose either one?” the man asks. “There is no judgment, no taking account of how I lived?”
“That’s right,” the usher says. “Now move along, please. People are dying and lining up behind you. Choose one and keep the line moving.”
“But I want to confess, I want to come clean, I want to be judged!”
“We don’t have time for that anymore. Just choose a door and move along.”
The man chooses to walk through the door on the left, leading to hell. Fleck’s conclusion is that “in the end, we want to be judged. We want to be held accountable. . . . and ultimately to be forgiven.”
Erich Segal was mistaken. Love means saying you’re sorry and then taking the appropriate action to address the behavior. In the coming year, may we be judged and sealed in the divine book of judgment for a year of happiness, health, and peace.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Rosh Hashanah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/02/10 | Rosh Hashanah 5771
September 2, 2010
It is here, again; the chance to start over. Rosh Hashanah-the Jewish new year-is the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel.” In a year filled with disappointment, doubt, failure, and break-up, it is comforting to know we can look ahead to another beginning. We can’t erase the past, but we can re-evaluate ourselves and the inner strength we possess. We can begin, again, to tackle the obstacles of life with renewed hope in the future. We can do all of this because of a faith in God.
My good friend Rabbi Harold Kushner, whose writings I turn to for inspiration and spiritual direction, asks this question: “What should the first announcement from this Bema be on this night of Rosh Hashanah?” The answer is revealed in the following story:
“It is told of Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev that he once summoned all of the Jews to assemble in the town square the next day at noon because he had an announcement of the greatest importance to make. He ordered that the merchants were to close their shops, that all the nursing mothers were to bring their infants, and that everyone, with no exceptions, was to be there to hear the announcement. The people wondered what the announcement could be. Was a pogrom imminent or a new tax? Was the Rabbi going to leave? Or was he perhaps seriously ill? Did he know the time when the Messiah would come and was he going to reveal it? At noon the entire community was present with no exceptions and everyone waited with baited breath to hear what the Rabbi would announce. Precisely at twelve the Rabbi rose and said: “I, Levi Yitzhak, son of Sarah, have gathered you here today in order to tell you that there is a God in the world!”
“At first the people were perplexed. Was this the big announcement that they had left their homes and closed their shops to hear? Had the Rabbi convened them only to tell them something that every school child already knew? But then, as they thought about it, they began to say to themselves: “Indeed, what could be more important than to know there is a God in the world.”
Rabbi Kushner explains, “If there is a God, then there are things we are tempted to do which we will refrain from doing. If there is a God, we won’t be afraid to spend our limited amount of love and compassion because we know that God will be there to replenish us when we run out. If we really believe there is a God in the world, we will treat each other better because we will recognize the image of God in our neighbor, whatever his race, religion, ability, or earning capacity.”
May the coming year of 5771 bring happiness, health, and peace to our families, communities, and all humankind. “There is a God in the world!”
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Ki Tavo posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/27/10 | Torah Portion: Ki Tavo
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 26:1-29:8
August 27, 2010
Rabbi Bradley Artson of the American Jewish University asks, “Why do people turn to Judaism? Certainly we have lived through enough to know that being religious doesn't mean that we can avoid the spills and disappointments that festoon the road of life. A Jewish commitment doesn't automatically liberate a person from fear or anxiety or guilt, nor can it guarantee happiness or success. If Judaism can't provide those lofty goals, then what good is it? Why bother?”
The Torah portion from Deuteronomy Ki Tavo contains a concise list of blessings and curses one can acquire through their actions. Among the short list of blessings is “Blessed shall you be in your comings and blessed shall you be in your goings (Deut. 28:6).” What does this mean? Rabbi Artson suggests, "Blessed shall you be in your comings," in your first coming into the world, "And blessed shall you be in your goings," in your departure from this world. In other words, the Torah is here referring to the ultimate entrance and exit: birth and death.”
The Talmud (compendium of Jewish law) reports that the ancient Rabbi Berekiah (4th century c.e.) heard this same interpretation and explained it to mean that all babies enter the world with great blessings, hopes, and expectations. As we proceed through life, we shed the innocence of youth and begin making our own way. Our actions and words determine whether we leave this world as pure, innocent, and blessed as we were at birth. Artson explains, “With each new experience, with every single encounter, our own responses and deeds write a legacy--either one of integrity, self-control, goodness, and holiness, or one of selfishness, laziness, and indifference.”
All humankind begin life as a source of blessing to parents, grandparents, and relatives. The blessing received at birth is a gift. As one matures, to maintain the gift we have to pay it forward. We do this by embracing those closest to us regardless of their shortcomings, showing concern for our community, and reaching out to protect the world we live in and those who inhabit it with us. Religion is not a guarantee of a “blessed” life, but, at its best, a directive in how to achieve it. As Rabbi Artson concludes, “How we are characterized at birth is fashioned by others. How we are characterized at death is in our own hands.”
May we all discover blessings in our comings and goings.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Ki Tetzei posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/20/10 | Torah Portion: Ki Tetzei
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 21:10-25:18
August 20, 2010
We live in a time when religion is being defined by a fringe fundamentalist element whose power far exceeds their number. Any good fundamentalist knows a literal understanding of an ancient sacred scripture supercedes reason and rationale. The New York Times reports a current case brought before a Saudi Arabian judge. Abdul-Aziz al-Mutairi, 22, was left paralyzed after a fight more than two years ago and subsequently lost a foot. Mr. Mutairi asked a judge in northwestern Tabuk Province to impose an equivalent punishment on his attacker under Islamic law. A Saudi Arabian judge has asked several hospitals in the country whether they could damage a man’s spinal cord as punishment for his attacking another man with a cleaver and paralyzing him. The family of the victim explains, “We are asking for out legal right under Islamic law. There is no better word than God’s word, an eye for an eye.”
There is no better way of understanding Judaism today than by examining the way Jewish tradition deals with troublesome passages in the Bible. In the Torah portion Ki Tetzei (Deuteronomy, Chap. 21:18-21) it is written, “If a man has a wayward and defiant son, who does not heed his father or mother and does not obey them even after they discipline him, his father and mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his town at the public place of his community. They shall say to the elders of his town, “This son of our is disloyal and defiant; he does not heed us. He is a glutton and a drunkard. Thereupon, the men of his town shall stone him to death.”
No doubt the Torah, in the historical context of its time, meant what it said: A defiant child could be put to death, just as one who put out the eye of another would be required to have his eye taken out. But, we don’t live in those times any longer. In fact, even two-thousand years ago the ancient rabbis, inheritors of this text, were troubled by it. They tried to explain it away by limiting its application. It would only apply in cases where both the mother and father were present, where both shared a a common set of values and both were judged to be exemplary parents. Other ancient rabbis taught that this was merely a hypothetical example to underscore the importance of heeding one’s parents. Through the centuries, Jewish commentators and scholars have all reasoned away a literal understanding of this troubling text.
Modern scholars understand these passages as having less to do with the defiant son and more to do with poor parenting. Rabbi Amy Perlin writes, “Who is responsible for a wayward and defiant child? Deuteronomy 24:16 states, "Parents shall not be put to death for children, nor children be put to death for parents: one shall be put to death only for one's own crime." Does this mean that if a child is poorly parented, as many teens are today, that they might never incur guilt or punishment? Or does it mean that having less than desirable parents is not an excuse for bad behavior; that God has given you the power to overcome the failures of bad parenting? For an educator, the toughest parent in the world is the "blind parent" who doesn't see the child or teen ever doing anything wrong, never imposes appropriate discipline, and is useless in trying to teach the child values and good behavior. And equally difficult are parents who overindulge their children and refuse to set limits, a situation that definitely contributes to a child being sucked into our society's gluttonous over consumption.
The significance of any ancient sacred scripture is to bring moral and ethical understanding to the realities we face today, not those encountered four thousand years ago. To understand Judaism and its relationship to the Bible is to understand this point.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
When Right Is Not Right posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/06/10 | When Right Is Not Right
August 6, 2010
Among the myriad of concerns facing America, a considerable amount of attention has been directed to New York City. In particular, to “Ground Zero” and the purported Mosque and Islamic Center being proposed. This week, tensions were heightened as the city’s Landmarks Preservation Commission voted 9 to 0 against granting historic protection to the building at 45-47 Park Place in Lower Manhattan, where the $100 million center would be built. This allows the Muslim Center to raze the building and construct the center.
Opposition to the project has been significant. Everyone form local New Yorkers to the Anti-Defamation League to Sarah Palin and leaders of the Tea Party have mounted efforts to block the building of a mosque near the site of 9/11. Those opposed to the center argue that 9/11 was an Islamic fundamentalist attack on America. To construct a mosque in the presence of Ground Zero is tantamount to constructing a Muslim monument of victory. Other arguments have shamefully become anti-Islam and racist.
Among the proponents is the mayor of New York City, Michael Bloomberg, who addressed the issue this week when he said: “it is as important a test of separation of church and state as any we may see in our lifetime, and it is critically important that we get it right.” He went on to say, “ in the freest city in the world, the owners of the building have the right to use their property as a house of worship. The government has no right whatsoever to deny that right.” Mayor Bloomberg is absolutely correct. The Constitutional protections allowing the construction of this Muslim Center are the same protections that have contributed to the growth and influence of Jews and Judaism in America. We are at times compelled to defend the rights of those we do not agree with. Still, is it right to build a Mosque at the site of 9/11?
In a democracy, there are times when even though something is right, it is not right. For me, this is such a moment. In 1984 Cardinal Macharski, archbishop of Krakow, announced the establishment of a Carmelite convent in Auschwitz in a building on the camp periphery which had originally been a theater but was utilized during World War II to store the poison gas used in the Auschwitz-Birkenau crematoria. The issue energized the Jewish world and became a stumbling block in Jewish/Catholic relations. Eventually, even the Vatican spoke out against the idea and the project was halted. Those who wanted the convent built wished to do so as a tribute to Catholics who suffered in Auschwitz. This was trumped by the fact that Auschwitz has become an international reminder of what the Nazis (and a good number of Poles) did to Jews during WWII. There was no reason the convent could not be built, but it rightly was not.
The same is true for the Mosque and Islamic Center. Ground Zero has become a monument to the destructive potential of religious fanaticism in general, and Islamic fundamentalism in particular. There is no legal reason they cannot build, except this is not the time. Even though it is right, it is not right.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Ekev posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/30/10 | Torah Portion: Ekev
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 6:12-11:25
July 30, 2010
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel writes, “The most important decision a thinker makes is reflected in what he comes to consider the most important problem. . .there is only one serious problem: And that is martyrdom. Is there anything worth dying for? We can only live the truth if we are willing to die for it.” Rabbi Brad Artson explains this statement to mean, “Our lives derive their ultimate value and sense of purpose not necessarily by what receives most of our time, but what commands our deepest commitment.”
Most parents would probably be willing to sacrifice their lives for those of their children. We are continually reminded of young soldiers sacrificing their lives for the preservation of freedom. What, in fact, is the Jews “deepest commitment”? For many, it is Eretz Yisrael/The Land of Israel. There are any number of Jews-in and outside of Israel-willing to give their lives to protect, defend, and preserve the Holy Land.
In this Torah portion, the Israelites are told by Moses, “You shall faithfully observe all the commandments that I enjoin upon you today, that you may thrive and increase and be able to possess the land that the Lord promised on oath to your fathers (Deut. 8:1).” What remains ambiguous in the Torah is what is of ultimate importance: Faithfully observing God’s commandments (mitzvot) or possessing the Land of Israel?
Rabbi Artson writes, “The Land is of importance, not as an end in itself, but as the necessary backdrop for the fullest possible encounter with God. . .Yet, the significance of the land is not intrinsic to the land itself. The land is not the goal, but rather a sacred means to an even more sacred end. The ultimate goal is to observe all the commandments.”
Today, more so than at any point in the modern State of Israel’s existence, debate rages with regard to the place of Israel in the pantheon of Jewish life. Does the committed Jew pledge his/her life to protect the existence of the modern state or is the existence of Israel a “means” and not an “end.” Artson continues his commentary by noting, “To the extent that we engage the promise of the land to become more compassionate, more loving, and more just-to that extent alone do we merit inhabiting the land. And only to that extent do we fulfill the purpose of being there in the first place.”
The ultimate goal of Judaism is to create godly Jews who-through doing God’s bidding (mitzvot)-can make a positive difference in a troubled world. The Land of Israel is one of the important elements in achieving this, but it, alone, is not the goal.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Va'ethanan posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/23/10 | Torah Portion: Va’ethanan
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 3:23-7:11
July 23, 2010
In 1995, Susan Smith, a 25-year old mother in South Carolina, strapped her two small boys into their car seats and then purposely allowed her car to roll into a lake taking the lives of both children. She was subsequently convicted of murder. Her minister speculated that she was witness to two presentations that night: “God made her a presentation and Satan made her a beautiful presentation.” After weighing them in her distraught mind, she opted for Satan’s. Were it so simple to define good and evil! Satan or the devil are not part of Judaism’s vocabulary, nor is original sin. Judaism teaches we have no one to blame but ourselves.
The centerpiece of this week’s Torah portion is the single-most important theological statement in Jewish life: “Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone (Deut. 6:4).” These words are followed by the following sentence: “Take to heart these instructions with which I charge you this day (Deut. 6:6).” The first statement, declaring God’s oneness, is not a prayer. We are not speaking to God, but are asked to listen; listen to these instructions which we are told to take to heart. What are these instructions? Mitzvot-commandments or obligations-reflecting God’s will and desire for humankind. The Torah understood that the heart was the internal mediator of humankind’s actions-good and bad.
Rabbi Ismar Schorsch notes, “Our lifelong challenge is to take what feels alien and unnatural to us and make it our own. The words “take to heart” identify the scene of the battle. It is within the hidden confines of the human heart that our impulses frustrate our ideals. The blood-stained pages of history are but a mirror of our conflicted hearts. To quote the prophet Jeremiah, “Most devious is the heart; it is perverse-who can fathom it?”
Judaism teaches there is no such thing as supernatural forces for evil. To rid this world of terror and disaster requires an effort to temper our inner turmoil; to open our hearts to the moral and ethical demands of the mitzvot-God’s blueprint for goodness. This will not result from attending a religious service on occasion or reciting a formula of blessings. Training the heart requires learning. After being told to “Take to heart,” the Torah goes on to state: “Teach your children and speak these words to them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you get up (Deut.6:7).” Regular and responsible Jewish education is our best hope for raising a generation that will not abuse its freedom of choice.
The Torah provides a lifetime of learning but nothing more important than understanding the words of this week’s portion.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
In My Humble Opinion posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/09/10 | In My Humble Opinion
July 9, 2010
This is a departure from the usual discussion of the weekly Torah portion. As one who is interested, entertained, and even informed by the world of sports, I found the “Lebron James” story a compelling opportunity to teach a different type of Torah referred to as Musar, a rabbinic literature devoted to ethics and doing the right thing.
On Thursday evening, July 8, 2010, a significant population tuned into ESPN (the cable sports network) to hear Lebron James (a 25-year old basketball phenom who has spent the past seven years playing professional basketball for the Cleveland Cavaliers) announce the team he would be playing for in the coming season. A few necessary facts for the uninformed: 1) Lebron James, who grew up in Akron, Ohio, signed a 7-year contract out of high school to play with Cleveland, the team he had grown up watching, 2) after completing the 7-year contract, James became a “free agent” able to negotiate with any other NBA team, 3) the best financial offer he received was from his home team in Cleveland, but 4) he decided to leave Cleveland and join the team in Miami where he felt he had a better chance of winning a league championship. These are the facts. It is also a fact that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the decision James made. Professional basketball is a business and Lebron James made a decision he felt was in his best interests. His chances of playing on a championship team are, in fact, much greater in Miami than had he chosen to remain in Cleveland. But, these are not all the facts.
Cleveland, like many communities in Ohio, has been hard hit by the recent recession. The number of people out of work is greater in Ohio than practically anywhere else. Amidst difficult times, Lebron James single-handedly lifted the spirits of thousands of Ohioans as he elevated the Cleveland Cavaliers from the dustpan of professional basketball to one of the “elite” teams. Cleveland is probably not the “garden spot” of America, but it is a part of the heartland of this great country. Sometimes one’s heart beats stronger and spirit rises higher by simply being associated with, in this case a sports team that bears your name. Somehow one is able to set aside, if just for a few moments, the worries and concerns of everyday life. Then, on Thursday evening, July 8, Lebron James announced he was leaving Cleveland because he wanted to be in a place where he could win a championship. It was, as he said, in “his best interests.”
As I noted, he did nothing wrong. This is America, a country founded on the notion of rugged individualism. Lebron James has the same right as any other American to pursue his dream. The question is, at what point does one become responsible not just for personal happiness and fulfillment, but for helping provide for those less fortunate? Lebron James was more than just a basketball player in Cleveland. He was the face of a city struggling to re-discover a future for itself and its residents. Whether one agrees or not, Lebron represented hope. He was a hometown hero who not only played a good game but made himself an active part of the community. His message of goodness, kindness, and hope resonated especially among children. He would be there for them; a hero they could depend on. Then, in an instant, he decided it was more important to win a championship than to be a champion.
Maybe Lebron James, at 25, is too young to realize that for thousands upon thousands of young and old, every time he took to the basketball court he was a champion. Every year he touched the lives of his hometown and home state he won a championship. Some day Lebron James will wear a NBA championship ring in Miami or wherever he may end up but will it be worth it? Can the presence of a ring on his finger ever equal the lives of so many who looked to him as an example of unselfishness, community-caring, and hope? Is this the lesson we want our youngsters to learn?
Two-thousand years ago, Hillel spoke these profound words: “If I am not for myself, who will be? But, if I am only concerned with myself, what sort of person am I? And, if not now, when?” At times, something that is right is still wrong. If we want to teach our children an important lesson in life, let it be Hillel’s words and not Lebron’s example.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Pinchas posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/02/10 | Torah Portion: Pinchas
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 25:10-30:1
July 2, 2010
Last week’s Torah portion concluded with the zealous actions of the Israelite priest Pinchas: “Then one of the Israelites came and brought a Midianite woman over to his companions, in the sight of Moses and of the whole Israelite community who were weeping [because of a plague] at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting. When Pinchas, son of Eleazer son of Aaron the priest, saw this, he left the assembly and, taking a spear in his hand, he followed the Israelite into the chamber and stabbed both of them, the Israelite and the woman, through the belly. Then the plague against the Israelites was checked (Num. 25:6-8).”
Zealotry, in the name of God, has in our time erected an almost impenetrable wall between peace and war, life and death. It comes as no surprise that Jews and Israel occupy a central role in this tragic drama. Rabbi Barry Leff, a former congregational rabbi in the United States who now lives in Israel, offers his thoughts on this Torah portion and its relationship to the events of our day.
“Pinchas is the Bible's great zealot. Last week we read how in a fit of zealotry, he killed a couple who were engaging in very naughty behavior in public by skewering the two of them with his spear.
There are those who say this is a time for Israelis to be more zealous, to be more like Pinchas, to rise up and defend ourselves in the most vigorous possible fashion.
I wrote a response to someone who said just that -- it's a little bit of a "vent," but I thought it's too good a vent not to share...so here you go:
I understand how people living in America – especially rabbis – can feel passionate about Israel and want to comment about what’s going on here. I certainly publicly shared lots of opinions about Israel while I still lived in the US.
However, now that I’ve made aliyah, I have to say that I’m bothered by people who from afar call for things like “Pinchas zealotry.” I’m the one who has to live with the consequences of Israeli chutzpah and stupidity.
If “Pinchas zealotry” is called for, it’s called for in moderates being as passionate about their position as the extremists. It’s certainly NOT a time to pick up spears and skewer anyone who offends our sensibilities. It’s time to be less “righteous” and more “wise.” It’s time to realize that a dinky country like Israel can’t take on the whole world. 1,941 years ago our ancestors thought they could take on Rome. They were wrong.
We can be “strong” and find ourselves an international pariah. We can be “strong” and find that we have no allies left. We can be “strong” and find ourselves subject to a REAL Boycott-Divestment-Sanctions campaign that could cripple our economy, and put many of us out of work.
Or we can act in a more intelligent fashion, let the world see that Hamas is the problem, not Israel. The Shalit family should organize marches to Gaza, not marches to the Prime Minister's residence. Hamas is the one holding their son prisoner, not Netanyahu. We can try and make friends with countries like Turkey instead of turning them into enemies.
We’re not going to be able to bully our way to peace. We’re going to have to negotiate our way to peace. We’re going to have make territorial compromises for peace. We’re going to have to act a little more humble and a little less self-righteous if we want peace.
The problem is not the morality of the IDF (Israeli army). The IDF is, indeed, one of the most moral fighting forces in the world. The problem is our political leaders need to stop putting our troops into situations where they have to face those difficult decisions, like whether to fire on an apartment building where gun fire is coming from, but where there are also a lot of innocent civilians. The problem isn’t the IDF, it’s the politicians.
It bugs me when people sitting in comfort in America call on Israelis to “kick ass,” when we’re the ones who will have to live with the consequences of stupid behavior. It bugs the hell out of me when some guy in Brooklyn calls on us to defend the settlements to the last of drop of MY children's blood, not his children's blood.
Sorry for the venting. Maybe it’s partly because I just came from taking my family on an outing to Castel--a site just outside Jerusalem where many fierce battles were fought during the War of Independence. At Castel I saw a monument listing the names of the men killed in the battle for that small patch of land. Life is precious. I want my kids to live in Israel at peace with her neighbors, including a Palestinian state. We need to be more like Aaron -- bikash shalom v'rodef shalom -- seek peace and pursue peace -- not more like Pinchas”.
Thanks Barry for sharing your thoughts.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Balak posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/25/10 | Torah Portion: Balak
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 22:2-25:9
June 25, 2010
One of the most eloquent descriptions of the ancient Israelites is pronounced by one of the most despicable characters in the Bible. King Balak of Moab hires the sorcerer Balaam to place a curse on Moses and the Children of Israel. From atop a peak overlooking the Israelite camp Balaam prepares his curse. Lo and behold, instead of a curse the following words of praise come forth: “How fair are your tents, O Jacob, Your dwellings, O Israel (Num. 24:5).”
From the mouth of a sorcerer came the phrase that would become part of every synagogue prayer service and often mounted above the synagogue entrance. How can this be bad? Many commentators, both medieval and contemporary, found difficulty associating such kind words with someone hired to destroy the very people he praised. One such commentator, Yaakov Yosef of Polnoye (17th century) writes, “What is the difference between a true prophet and a false one? The true prophet can be identified in most cases by their scoldings. They point out the blemishes and defects and want to break the measure. The false prophet flatters the people with sweet talk and sees none of the low land. “Peace, Peace, everything’s fine and there’s no need for correction.” Balaam does not sing from any great love of Israel, even though he has many songs and praises for Israel. On the contrary, he intends to entice Israel so that they will not do anything, so that they will no longer yearn to ascend higher and higher up the ladder.”
Years ago, as a summer camp counselor, I remember being told that the most popular counselor was not always the best. As a parent, I learned the same lesson. Seeking to be popular in the eyes of my children and hear them sing my praise did not necessarily correlate with being a good parent. Yaakov Yosef comes to teach that praise and popularity come at a cost- usually an inflated ego. To borrow from the vernacular, we “drink the Kool-Aid” and lose sight of who we really are. Growth seldom results from praise, but critique. Praise is important for self-esteem, but constructive criticism is the fuel that launches one’s self-esteem to even higher levels of achievement.
A good parent, effective teacher, and true prophet wants the people whose lives they touch to reach higher, to ascend the rungs of the ladder toward heaven. This sometimes translates into “tough love!”
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Hukkat posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/18/10 | Torah Portion: Hukkat
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 19:1-22:1
June 18, 2010
“The community was without water, and they joined against Moses and Aaron. . .The Presence of the Lord appeared to [Moses and Aaron], and the Lord spoke to Moses saying, “You and your brother Aaron take the rod and assemble the community, and before their very eyes order the rock to yield its water. . .Moses and Aaron assembled the congregation in front of the rock; and he said to them, “Listen, you rebels, shall we get water for you out of this rock?” And Moses raised his hand and struck the rock twice with his rod. Out came copious water, and the community and their beasts drank.” (Num. 20:2, 6-8, 10-11)
The above “water from the rock” incident is followed immediately by a statement of God’s condemnation: “But the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, “Because you did not trust Me enough to affirm My sanctity in the sight of the Israelite people, therefore you shall not lead this congregation into the land that I have given them.” (Num. 20:12) When Moses strikes the rock to draw water instead of speaking to it as God commanded, he is condemned to die in the wilderness. This is Moses and Aaron’s reward for 40 years of service? Commentators of every century have grappled with this question. Why was Moses, God’s own servant, being treated so harshly for what on appearance would seem a minor offense?
Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo ben Yitzhak-1040-1105) argues that Moses was responsible for diminishing the greatness of the miracle. Ibn Ezra (1092-1167) suggests Moses’ punishment is the result of needing to be told to perform the miracle rather than maintaining a faith in God. Still others suggest that Moses’ action of striking the rock, rather than speaking to it as God had asked, was done in public and in the presence of the Israelites, who might understand this as a lack of faith even on behalf of their leader. For this reason he and Aaron were harshly punished.
I find the explanation of Maimonides (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon-1135-1204) most compelling. Maimonides teaches that it was not the incident of striking the rock that Moses was being punished for, rather for losing his temper: “and [Moses] said to them, “Listen, you rebels, shall we get water for you out of this rock?” (Num. 20:10). At that moment, after nearly 40 years of leadership, it was clear that a change was necessary. By losing his temper, Moses had compromised the ongoing effectiveness of his leadership.
20th century psychologist B.F. Skinner is credited with being the father of behavioral modification. He developed the concept of “positive reinforcement.” One is more likely to change the behavior of a person or group through positive, rather than negative, stimuli. Losing one’s temper seldom results in the changes we strive for. The results are more likely to undermine than reinforce one’s efforts. This is what happened to Moses. For a split second he lost sight of who these people were and what was their immediate need. In doing so, he also lost his credibility as their leader. Lashing out at the Israelites made him no better than them.
Whether you are a leader, teacher, parent, or good friend, being able to exercise restraint in the face of crisis is a quality of greatness.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Hukkat posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/18/10 | Torah Portion: Hukkat
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 19:1-22:1
June 18, 2010
“The community was without water, and they joined against Moses and Aaron. . .The Presence of the Lord appeared to [Moses and Aaron], and the Lord spoke to Moses saying, “You and your brother Aaron take the rod and assemble the community, and before their very eyes order the rock to yield its water. . .Moses and Aaron assembled the congregation in front of the rock; and he said to them, “Listen, you rebels, shall we get water for you out of this rock?” And Moses raised his hand and struck the rock twice with his rod. Out came copious water, and the community and their beasts drank.” (Num. 20:2, 6-8, 10-11)
The above “water from the rock” incident is followed immediately by a statement of God's condemnation: “But the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, “Because you did not trust Me enough to affirm My sanctity in the sight of the Israelite people, therefore you shall not lead this congregation into the land that I have given them.” (Num. 20:12) When Moses strikes the rock to draw water instead of speaking to it as God commanded, he is condemned to die in the wilderness. This is Moses and Aaron's reward for 40 years of service? Commentators of every century have grappled with this question. Why was Moses, God's own servant, being treated so harshly for what on appearance would seem a minor offense?
Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo ben Yitzhak-1040-1105) argues that Moses was responsible for diminishing the greatness of the miracle. Ibn Ezra (1092-1167) suggests Moses' punishment is the result of needing to be told to perform the miracle rather than maintaining a faith in God. Still others suggest that Moses' action of striking the rock, rather than speaking to it as God had asked, was done in public and in the presence of the Israelites, who might understand this as a lack of faith even on behalf of their leader. For this reason he and Aaron were harshly punished.
I find the explanation of Maimonides (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon-1135-1204) most compelling. Maimonides teaches that it was not the incident of striking the rock that Moses was being punished for, rather for losing his temper: “and [Moses] said to them, “Listen, you rebels, shall we get water for you out of this rock?” (Num. 20:10). At that moment, after nearly 40 years of leadership, it was clear that a change was necessary. By losing his temper, Moses had compromised the ongoing effectiveness of his leadership.
20th century psychologist B.F. Skinner is credited with being the father of behavioral modification. He developed the concept of “positive reinforcement.” One is more likely to change the behavior of a person or group through positive, rather than negative, stimuli. Losing one's temper seldom results in the changes we strive for. The results are more likely to undermine than reinforce one's efforts. This is what happened to Moses. For a split second he lost sight of who these people were and what was their immediate need. In doing so, he also lost his credibility as their leader. Lashing out at the Israelites made him no better than them.
Whether you are a leader, teacher, parent, or good friend, being able to exercise restraint in the face of crisis is a quality of greatness.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Korah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/11/10 | Torah Portion: Korah
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 16:1-18:32
June 11, 2010
“Now Korah betook himself, along with Dathan and Abiram, to rise up against Moses, together with two hundred and fifty Israelites, chieftains of the community. .They combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, “You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and he the Lord is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation? (Num. 16:1-3).”
With this pronouncement, Moses is confronted with the first major insurrection against his leadership. The campaign is led by a member of his own tribe, Korah. On the surface, it appears Korah has made a good case. He is arguing for a more democratic society. As the modern commentator Pinhas Peli writes, “While Moses commands the people saying, “You shall be holy” and makes demands of them in order that they should become holy, Korah says “everyone of them” is holy. He propagates a “people’s democracy.” He makes everybody happy!”
In the end, Korah’s campaign fails disastrously. He is remembered for all time as an example of demagoguery; a political leader seeking support by appealing to the popular desires and prejudices of the people with little regard for rational argument. Rather than take his case to Moses and Aaron as an individual, he works behind their backs in quietly building a coalition of followers based on rumors and innuendo. Then, all at once, he and his followers pounce. His arguments have a superficial ring to them, but when confronted with facts and substance, they ring hollow. The ancient Midrash (legends) suggest that ultimately Korah was only interested in seeking power and influence for himself.
There is a time and place for protests and acts of civil disobedience. In a democracy, such as ours, when after due process one’s rights and privileges are still denied, one arguably has the obligation to stand up and protest. First, one makes a case-gathers factual evidence, not rumors or second-hand hearsay. Then one takes their case to the proper authorities and then to the people. This is the privilege and responsibility of living in a democratic country.
As stated at the outset, Korah had the makings of a case. He might have even brought about change but for his personal ambition and unwillingness to first try to work with Moses and Aaron. Of all the traits necessary for effective leadership, the desire for power and influence is not one.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Shelach Lecha posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/04/10 | Torah Portion: Shelach Lecha
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 13:1-15:41
June 4, 2010
Moses chooses 12 leaders, one from each tribe, to scout out the “Promised Land” and report back. He is certain the positive reports brought back by members of the Israelite tribes will re-instill confidence in himself, the mission, and the One God. What Moses failed to factor in was the possibility that not everyone would see this as a land “flowing with milk & honey.” And, of course they did not. Ten of the twelve spies report, “The people that dwell in the Land is powerful, the cities are fortified and very great, and they are like giants. . .we cannot conquer this people for they are too strong for us (Num. 13:28 & 31)!” Only Joshua and Caleb spoke favorably of the Promised Land.
It is an odd coincidence that the same week we read an account in the Torah disparaging the Land of Canaan, we also encounter disparaging accounts of the modern State of Israel in her actions against a flotilla of ships attempting to run the blockade of Gaza. In the Torah, it was 10 of the 12 tribal leaders who publicly denounced plans to enter Canaan. In our modern world, it is the leaders of nations who have denounced the State of Israel. Everyone has a different set of facts, opinions, and even video to explain the incident. Most of us do not live in Israel. Some among us visit Israel regularly, others on occasion, still others never have. Yet, a whole lot of us believe we know that Israel was right or wrong. I am re-printing below a piece that appeared in the New York Times Op-Ed page on Thursday, June 3, 2010. It is authored by a friend and colleague, Rabbi Daniel Gordis. Granted, this is just another opinion, but from someone who has a vested interest; he lives and raises his family in Israel:
“In the last few days, Jerusalem has been blanketed by an unusual combination of humiliation and steely determination. How is it, people here wondered aloud, that the same country that tripled its size in three lightning days in June 1967 and then pulled off the rescue at Entebbe nine years later now seems to botch everything?
We lost the 2006 war in Lebanon, believing — incorrectly — that our venerated air force could win the war from the skies. The strikes on Gaza in December 2008 were a military success, but we have utterly failed to convince the world that it was a defensive effort precipitated by eight years of Hamas’s firing Qassam rockets at us, killing and maiming and destroying any semblance of a normal life for Israelis living near the border. And then came Monday’s attack on the flotilla trying to break through the naval blockade of Gaza.
Yet, despite widespread criticism at the way the raid was conducted, few here doubted that stopping the flotilla was the right thing to do. Life in Gaza is unquestionably oppressive; no one in his right mind would choose to live there. But there is no humanitarian crisis in Gaza; if anyone goes without food, shelter or medicine, that is by the choice of the Hamas government, which puts garnering international sympathy above taking care of its citizens. Israel has readily agreed to send into Gaza all the food and humanitarian supplies on the boats after they had been inspected for weapons.
Thus this flotilla was no “peace operation.” It was intended to break the blockade or to increase international pressure to end it. Its leaders, with the connivance of the Turkish government, set a trap, and Israel blundered smack into it.
But that does not make the blockade wrong. Hamas is a terrorist organization that completed its takeover of Gaza through brute force. It executes its political enemies at will. It is one of the world’s most misogynist regimes, allowing the murder of women for the slightest infraction of family honor.
Hamas kidnapped an Israeli soldier, Gilad Shalit, from Israeli territory and has held him for four years without giving the Red Cross any access to him, in violation of the most basic international standards of conduct. And, of course, Hamas openly insists that it will countenance no long-term peace with Israel; the resistance will not end, it says, until Israel is destroyed.
Like every other country, Israel has as its foremost obligation the protection of its citizens. Given that, why should it have allowed the flotilla to enter without inspecting its goods? If the United States were to impose a blockade on Iran (which seems unlikely), and another country dispatched a string of ships in a similar operation, is there any chance the United States Navy would let them through without inspection?
Israel will, of course, endure tremendous international condemnation for this week’s events. Sadly, though, we Israelis are becoming somewhat inured to such criticism. And we know that we dare not capitulate now.
It is no accident that Turkey sent the flotilla at this time. It is clearly cozying up to Iran these days, even teaming with Brazil to offer Tehran a deal on atomic fuel that would allow the mullahs to maintain their effort to build a nuclear arsenal. Ankara’s warmongering talk this week was not intended for global consumption; it was meant to show Iran’s president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, that Turkey is playing a new role in the Middle East.
Iran finances Hezbollah and Hamas and does everything it can to weaken and marginalize Israel, inching toward its vision of a world without a Jewish state. The West has known of Iran’s nuclear intentions for well over a decade, but has effectively done nothing. Israelis understand that we — and we alone — will have to ensure our security and our survival.
The recent avalanche of international condemnation is very painful for Israelis, who remember the years in which we were seen as a beacon of democracy and sophistication in a repressive part of the world. Those days are gone, of course, because of the world’s impatience with the “occupation” of the West Bank and Gaza.
Our problem is that though most Israelis want peace with two states — one Jewish and one Palestinian, living side by side — we cannot find anyone to make a deal with us. A decade ago, President Bill Clinton and Prime Minister Ehud Barak, tried, but Yasir Arafat, the Palestinian leader, walked away. Now the supposedly moderate Palestinian leader, Mahmoud Abbas of Fatah, refuses to negotiate, as of course does Hamas.
Israelis are resigned to the fact that reason will not shake the world’s blatant double standard. Our blockade of Gaza is “criminal”; yet nobody mentions that Egypt has had a blockade of Gaza in place since 2007, and has never hesitated to use lethal force against those trying to break it. Israel’s attempt to enforce a blockade becomes an international crisis, while most of the world shrugs when North Korea sinks a South Korean ship. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has declared his willingness to sit with Fatah leaders any time, anywhere, but they insist on mere “proximity talks,” which they will probably now scuttle, using the flotilla as an excuse.
Israel’s geographic vulnerability means that we do not have the luxury of caving in to the world’s condemnation. We will have to gird ourselves for the long, dangerous and lonely road ahead, buoyed by hope that what ultimately prevails will be not what is momentarily popular, but rather what is just.”
The mistake of the ten spies was not in the factuality of their report, but its superficiality. The people occupying Canaan did live in fortified cities, were great in number and maybe even cast a giant shadow, but that was not the whole story. Nothing was said of their demeanor, personality, or character. There was no mention of the reason they needed to fortify themselves or the threats they faced nor the kind of society they lived in. Oblivious of who they might really be, the ten spies drew their conclusions based only on what they saw from a distance. Is there any difference between the Israelite spies of yesteryear and the condescending nations of today? I will let you answer that.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Memorial Day 2010 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/28/10 | Memorial Day
May 28, 2010
Freedom is not free. Anyone who pays taxes is acutely aware of this fact. The greatest awareness is borne by families whose fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers paid the ultimate price for our right to enjoy the fruits of this great country. It is they who we pay homage to each year on Memorial Day. One of the most well-known expressions of sorrow and gratitude for those who gave their lives to protect our freedoms was written by Chaplain Rabbi Roland Gittelsohn, who served with the Marine Corps in the WWII battle of Iwo Jima in 1945. The circumstances leading up to his famous sermon are described in the article below:
The fight for Iwo Jima in 1945 was one of the bloodiest of World War II. A tiny island in the Pacific dominated by a volcanic mountain and pockmarked with caves Iwo Jima was the setting for a five-week, nonstop battle between 70,000 American Marines and an unknown number of deeply entrenched Japanese defenders. The courage and gallantry of the American forces, climaxed by the dramatic raising of the American flag over Mt. Suribachi, is memorialized in the Marine Corps monument in Washington, D.C. Less well-remembered, however, is that the battle occasioned an eloquent eulogy by a Marine Corps rabbi that has become an American classic.
Rabbi Roland B. Gittelsohn (1910-95), assigned to the Fifth Marine Division, was the first Jewish chaplain the Marine Corps ever appointed. The American invading force at Iwo Jima included approximately 1,500 Jewish Marines, and Rabbi Gittelsohn was in the thick of the fray, ministering to Marines of all faiths in the combat zone. He shared the fear, horror and despair of the fighting men, each of whom knew that each day might be his last. Roland Gittelsohn's tireless efforts to comfort the wounded and encourage the fearful won him three service ribbons.
When the fighting was over, Division Chaplain Warren Cuthriell, a Protestant minister, asked Rabbi Gittelsohn to deliver the memorial sermon at a combined religious service dedicating the Marine Cemetery. Cuthriell wanted all the fallen Marines (black and white, Protestant, Catholic and Jewish) honored in a single, nondenominational ceremony. Unfortunately, racial and religious prejudice was strong in the Marine Corps, as it was then throughout America. According to Rabbi Gittelsohn's autobiography, the majority of Christian chaplains objected to having a rabbi preach over predominantly Christian graves. The Catholic chaplains, in keeping with church doctrine opposed any form of joint religious service.
To his credit, Cuthriell refused to alter his plans. Gittelsohn, on the other hand, wanted to save his friend Cuthriell further embarrassment and so decided it was best not to deliver his sermon. Instead, three separate religious services were held. At the Jewish service, to a congregation of 70 or so who attended, Rabbi Gittelsohn delivered the powerful eulogy he originally wrote for the combined service:
Here lie men who loved America because their ancestors generations ago helped in her founding. And other men who loved her with equal passion because they themselves or their own fathers escaped from oppression to her blessed shores. Here lie officers and men, Negroes and Whites, rich men and poor, together. Here are Protestants, Catholics, and Jews together. Here no man prefers another because of his faith or despises him because of his color. Here there are no quotas of how many from each group are admitted or allowed. Among these men there is no discrimination. No prejudices. No hatred. Theirs is the highest and purest democracy...
Whosoever of us lifts his hand in hate against a brother, or who thinks himself superior to those who happen to be in the minority, makes of this ceremony and the bloody sacrifice it commemorates, an empty, hollow mockery. To this then, as our solemn sacred duty, do we the living now dedicate ourselves: To the right of Protestants, Catholics, and Jews, of White men and Negroes alike, to enjoy the democracy for which all of them have here paid the price...
We here solemnly swear this shall not be in vain. Out of this and from the suffering and sorrow of those who mourn this, will come, we promise, the birth of a new freedom for the sons of men everywhere.
Among Gittelsohn's listeners were three Protestant chaplains so incensed by the prejudice voiced by their colleagues that they boycotted their own service to attend Gittelsohn's. One of them borrowed the manuscript and, unknown to Gittelsohn, circulated several thousand copies to his regiment. Some Marines enclosed the copies in letters to their families. An avalanche of coverage resulted. Time magazine published excerpts, which wire services spread even further. The entire sermon was inserted into the Congressional Record, the Army released the eulogy for short-wave broadcast to American troops throughout the world and radio commentator Robert St. John read it on his program and on many succeeding Memorial Days.
In 1995, in his last major public appearance before his death, Gittelsohn reread a portion of the eulogy at the 50th commemoration ceremony at the Iwo Jima statue in Washington, D.C. In his autobiography, Gittelsohn reflected, “I have often wondered whether anyone would ever have heard of my Iwo Jima sermon had it not been for the bigoted attempt to ban it.”
Hannah Senesh, who fought and died fighting the Nazis in Yugoslavia, wrote: “There are stars whose light reaches the earth only after they themselves have disintegrated. And there are individuals whose memory lights the world after they have passed from it. These lights shine even in the darkest night and illumine our path. .”
May the memories of those who gave their lives to protect the freedoms and liberties of this great nation be a blessing to all who remember them.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Naso posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/20/10 | Torah Portion: Naso
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 4:21-7:89
May 20, 2010
In the final chapter of this Torah portion, the chieftains of each of the 12 tribes contribute gifts to the completed portable sanctuary (Tabernacle). What is most interesting is that each chieftain presents the identical gift. The Torah devotes 88 verses to repeat 12 times the same gifts, only given by 12 different chieftains. Would it not have been easier, and more efficient, to have simply stated that the same gifts were given by each of the 12 chieftains?
The eminent 20th century Torah scholar Nehama Lebowitz notes, “The system by which Pharaoh degraded the Jewish people, setting them one against the other and appointing their own leaders to carry out his decrees is only too familiar to us in these days.” According to the Midrash (Jewish legend) these same chieftains were those officers who stepped forward and sacrificed themselves on behalf of the Israelites in Egypt. When quotas were not met, they were held responsible & beaten. For willingly accepting the punishment of Pharaoh, the Torah honors them by placing each of their names into its eternal record.
One might be elected or appointed to a position of leadership, but that alone does not make a leader. A leader is not distinguished by number of votes received, but qualities inherent within him. Good leaders are seldom people who seek out a position of leadership, rather they are people who are sought out. What are the qualities necessary to be an effective leader? I list 10 for your consideration:
1. Vision- a clear, vivid picture of where to go, as well as a firm grasp on what success looks like and how to achieve it.
2. Integrity-A person with integrity is the same on the inside as on the outside.
3. Dedication-Being willing to devote whatever time is necessary to accomplish a task or meet a goal.
4. Magnanimity-Giving credit where credit is due. Empowering people with the feeling they accomplished the goal themselves.
5. Humility-Recognizing that you are just another member of the people. .no better, no worse.
6. Openness-Being willing to listen to new ideas and welcome suggestions even if they do not conform to your usual way of thinking.
7. Creativity-The ability to think “outside the box”. As the late Robert Kennedy profoundly stated, “There are those that look at things the way they are, and ask why? I dream of things that never were, and ask why not?”
8. Fairness-Dealing with everybody fairly and consistently.
9. Assertiveness-The ability to clearly state what one expects so there will be no misunderstanding.
10. A Sense of Humor-A Psychology professor once noted, “If you take life more than half seriously, you’ll go insane.” Being able to laugh at oneself and with others engenders effective leadership.
Our tradition maintains the ancient Israelite chieftains were defined not by their position in life, but the qualities they brought to life. Do you have what it takes?
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Shavuot posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/14/10 | Shavuot
May 14, 2010
We are living in a time when superficial is too often mistaken for real. When we are introduced to a stranger, what is the first question asked? “What do you do?”, as if the sum total of a person’s essence is captured in his professional pursuit. It offers an insight, but not the whole picture. For many people the question, “who am I?” is a daunting one. Am I defined by the clothes I wear, car I drive, the shape of my body or the job I work at? I hear myself replying to the question by saying, “I am a rabbi.” Is that who I really am? I am Howard Siegel who performs the functions of a rabbi (whatever they may be?!). The real question is, “Who is Howard Siegel?”, and that answer is not so simple.
Is Bar Mitzvah just being able to take Hebrew consonants and vowels, put them together with familiar melodies and make sounds on a Shabbat morning, or is it more? What is Torah? The superficial answer is the first five books of the Hebrew Bible, but is that all Torah is?
This week we celebrate the holiday of Shavuot. Seven weeks after leaving Egypt (celebrated by Passover), the ancient Israelites arrived at Mt. Sinai. There they encountered God, and there they received Torah. By accepting Torah, the Israelites became the Jewish people in a covenantal relationship with the One God. For some Jews, the Sinai event occurred once binding all Jews-present, past, and future-to this special holy covenant. For others, each Jew has a “Sinai moment” that opens his/her eyes to the rich tapestry of Jewish life. It is at that moment they enter the ancient covenant with God. Accepting Torah is much more than reading five books in the Bible!
Rabbi Harold Kushner writes, “Jews don’t read the Torah the way one reads a novel, for the plot. You don’t read it to see how it ends. Nor do you read it like a newspaper or a magazine article, skimming it to get the general idea. As a contemporary scholar has put it Jews read the Bible the way a person reads a love letter. When you read a love letter, you don’t just read it for content. You try to squeeze every last little bit of meaning out of it. (Why did he sign it “Yours” instead of “Love”? Why a dash instead of a comma?).”
Maybe this is the greatest compliment that can be paid to the relationship between the Jewish people and Torah; the metaphor of a love letter.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Behar/Behukotai posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/08/10 | Torah Portion: Behar/Behukotai
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 25:1-27:34
May 7, 2010
“The Lord spoke to Moses saying: Speak to the Israelite people and say to them. When anyone explicitly vows to the Lord the equivalent for a human being, the following scale shall apply, . . . from twenty to sixty years of age, the equivalent is fifty shekels of silver by the sanctuary weight.”
The conclusion of the Book of Leviticus brings an end to the Israelites extensive stay at Mt. Sinai. Before packing up and moving on, the final chapter of Leviticus is a reminder that their new portable sanctuary comes at a price. After receiving the Torah on Sinai, learning of the plans for a sanctuary, seeing it constructed, and celebrating its completion, the people are reminded that maintaining this place of God is costly. Nothing comes free. Even the “manna from heaven” came with strings attached!
The ancient form of taxation involved vowing something, or someone, to be given to the Temple. In the case of a human being, he/she was not actually given but redeemed from the requirement by paying a certain amount (in the case above, 50 shekels of silver). Whatever one brought to pay their Temple tax was valued and they would pay the value and redeem the object.
The Eitz Hayim Humash commentary asks a good question, “How do we measure the value of a person? The world at large values rich people more than poor people, economically productive people more than less productive, fertile women more than childless women, clever and attractive people more than others. In God’s temple, however, people are evaluated “by the sanctuary weight.” God views our worth differently than the world does.”
In our day, the synagogue should be a place where a person’s value is not measured in material or superficial terms. We live in a world that is obsessed with rich people, sports heroes, beautiful bodies and narcisstic pleasures. Enough! When one walks through the door into a synagogue sanctuary, they should be welcomed as one “fashioned in God’s image”; a co-sanctifier of God’s name.
After hurricane Katrina, NBC News realized that there exist other people-besides politicians and celebrities-who make a difference in this world. Since the hurricane, NBC has offered a special feature several times a week on their evening news entitled, “People Who Make A Difference.” They have traveled the country finding incredible human beings who are touching the lives of children, elderly, infirmed, and those in need of a gentle hand or kind smile. These are people who seldom appear on the front pages of daily life but without whom a meaningful life would not be possible. Borrowing an expression from the “material” world, their value is “priceless.”
Not surprising, most of these people who are making a difference happen to be religious and some are even Jews! The synagogue is a place-like the ancient Temple-where each person is a valued member regardless of who they are. As a result, many of these same people leave the synagogue intent on sharing their wealth of values and ethics with a world sorely in need.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Emor posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/30/10 | Torah Portion: Emor
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 21:1-24:23
April 30, 2010
“You shall not profane my Holy name, that I may be sanctified in the midst of the Israelite people-I the Lord who sanctify you.” (Lev. 22:32)
The Hebrew word for “sanctifying God’s name” is Kiddush Ha’Shem, and for profaning God’s name, Hillul Ha’shem. As children, we believed that cussing and swearing were the way one profaned God’s name. As adults, we should know better. The Eitz Hayim Humash commentary notes, “The public performance of a mitzvah not only benefits the one who does it but has an effect on those who see it, even as a violation of the Torah in public is more damaging than similar behavior done privately. This leads the ancient Sages to view the Sanctifying and Profaning of God’s name as essentially a public act. . . .The Talmud states that there is no greater achievement for a Jew than acting in a way that causes others to praise and respect the God of Israel and the Torah’s ways; and there is no graver sin for a Jew than acting in a way that causes people to think less of Israel’s God and Israel’s laws.”
We are responsible for what we say and do, especially in public. Several years ago, the owner of a nursing home in New York was indicted for mistreatment of his residents. The man happened to be a rabbi. In court he made certain to wear a kippah and insist he be referred to as Rabbi. His efforts to masquerade as a religious figure, wearing a cloak of ethical behavior, became an important part of his defense and a “shanda”-embarrassment and humiliation-for the Jewish community. In the end, he was convicted and sentenced to jail, but he took his Jewish community to prison with him. His actions were a “Hillul Ha’shem” because 1) of his treatment of the elderly in his care, and 2) his public display of Jewish self-righteousness. Each night as the court proceedings appeared on television news (both local & national), he shamed not only himself, but his community. We all suffered because of the misguided and selfish actions of one.
I am always cautious when using my title “Rabbi” in the public arena. Whether it be a letter to the editor or an e-mail posting on Facebook, when I use the title Rabbi I am involving more than just myself. I am including my entire Jewish community. Rabbi Bradley Artson notes, “Our deeds implicate those who love us and those who are connected to us through family and through culture. . . .When Jews engage in fraud, we shame the values cultivated by our tradition. When Jews express contempt against other Jews-either through word or deed-we betray our common ancestry and endanger our shared future. When Jews ignore the suffering of other people-in our own communities and around the world-we implicate the Source of humanity.”
What is true for Jews is true for everyone. When one chooses to become a public personality, their actions reflect upon the community they represent. Hillul Ha’shem-profaning God’s name-occurs when a Jew’s words and deeds trample the precepts of Torah, when a popular sports figure’s behavior flies in the face of community values, and when a public official’s actions discredit the Constitution he/she swore to uphold.
As Rabbi Artson concludes, “The kippah on your head, the mezuzah near your door, or the Star of David around your neck is a pledge to reflect the highest standards of Jewish morality. We are one.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Israel Independence Day posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/23/10 | Israel at 62
April 23, 2010
The State of Israel celebrated her 62nd birthday this week. While still a source of enthusiasm and excitement (especially in the large Jewish population centers of New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago), each year there is a growing number of ambivalent Jews, and Jewish institutions. Reasons abound for the decline in interest in Yom Ha’atzmaut/Israel Independence day. Today, there are probably more Jews born after the creation of the modern state than before. Jews are growing weary of the continuous struggle for survival with no apparent light at the end of the tunnel. American Jews-especially those born after 1948-are more likely to identify the United States as their homeland, and Israel as just another foreign country, albeit Jewish.
If the mood among American Jews toward Israel has been less than ecstatic, the same can be said of Israelis themselves. The popular leftist newspaper Ha’Aretz wrote on the occasion of Israel’s Independence Day, “Israel is isolated globally and embroiled in a conflict with the superpower whose friendship and support are vital to its very existence. It is devoid of any diplomatic plan aside from holding on to the territories and afraid of any movement,” the editorial said. “It wallows in a sense of existential threat that has only grown with time. It seizes on every instance of anti-Semitism, whether real or imagined, as a pretext for continued apathy and passivity.”
“Doom and Gloom” are popular characters these days. Whether it be the economy, the Iranian threat, or the Middle East, everyone seems to be wearing a frown (sometimes masked by a smile!). None of these are reasons to abandon hope, or for Jews to abandon Israel. The real story of the Jewish state is seldom told. Israel, only a fraction of one percent of the Middle East land mass and 2 percent of its population, has the highest ratio of university degrees per capita in the world. The country, by a large margin, produces more scientific papers per capita than any other nation in the world and has the highest number of scientists and technicians per capita in the world. With those achievements, it is not surprising that Israel has the highest number of PhD's and the highest number of physicians per capita in the world.
Israel also is the only nation in the world that entered the 21st century with a net gain in its number of trees.
Taking care of Jews around the world, the nation is the largest immigrant-absorbing nation on Earth while respecting other religions. It is the only country in the Middle East where the Christian population has grown over the last 50 years and is the only country in the Middle East where Christians, Muslims and Jews are all free to vote.
Despite all its success, Israel also leads the world in United Nations Security Council resolutions against the Jewish State. Of the 175 U.N. Security Council resolutions passed before 1990, 97 were directed against Israel. Of the 690 U.N. General Assembly resolutions voted on before 1990, 429 were directed against Israel.
Over the years, what has been the source of your greatest stress, anger, and indignation? If you give pause to think about the question, you will probably answer “family.” At times it feels as if we have endless patience for the dealings of strangers. Not so family. The reason is obvious. We have vested interest in family. They are a part of us and we expect more from them. When a son or daughter disappoints a parent, the parent doesn’t divorce them but works with them to attain mutually desired goals. The same Is true of Israel and the Jewish people. We are family. By definition, this means we are not going to always be in agreement, but neither will we abandon one another.
The strength and confidence exhibited by the Jewish community of the United States is the direct result of there being a State of Israel. Before 1948, the American Jew’s mantra was “Shah, Shtil/be silent”, don’t expose yourself to this anti-Semitic world. With the creation of Israel this all changed. American Jews were identified, and identified themselves, with a Jewish state capable of defending herself against enemies while opening her arms to those in need. Israel became a beacon of light educationally, culturally, technologically, scientifically, and spiritually. Israel and the Jewish people were, again, ONE. And, for the 62nd year there is no reason to abate our relationship nor our celebration of it.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Tazria/Metzora posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/16/10 | Torah Portion: Tazria/Metzora
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 12:1-15:33
April 16, 2010
This is a particularly difficult portion of Torah to understand. From its very beginning, one is challenged to ask why a new mother, after the long-awaited moment of childbirth, should be considered ritually “impure” (ta’may) for an extended period of time?
Baruch Levine, in his commentary to the Book of Leviticus, sheds some new insight into the meaning of this ritual:
“The rituals prescribed in the Torah regularly utilize the category of impurity for dealing with conditions that are life threatening. In ancient usage, “pure” (ta’hor) and “impure”(ta’may) correspond to what in modern health care is referred to as “immune” and “susceptible”, respectively. The childbearing mother was particularly vulnerable, and her child was in danger too, since mortality was widespread in pre-modern societies. By declaring the new mother “impure”, susceptible, the community sought to protect and shelter her.”
Judaism is a worship and celebration of the living, not the dead. Every effort is made to create, sustain, protect, and honor life. This is the meaning of “pure” (ta’hor): A spiritual & physical embrace of life; an “immunity” to life-threatening circumstance. When one does become “susceptible” (“impure”) to death, the community takes them aside and offers healing comfort and support until they can be restored to a state of “immunity”.
Understanding the ritual categories of “pure” & “impure” in this manner explains why one washes his/her hands after leaving a cemetery or goes to the Mikveh (ritual bath) after participating in a “Tahara” (preparation of a body for burial). In both cases, one has confronted death and become “susceptible” to its dark side, such as depression. The symbolic act of ritual cleansing is spiritually powerful enough to restore one to a state of “Ta'hor” (purity) and turn one’s attention, again, to the task of living.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Shemini posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/09/10 | Torah Portion: Shemini
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 9:1-11:47
April 9, 2010
This Torah portion provides a list of the animals, birds, and fish a Jew is permitted to eat. They are termed “Kosher”, meaning “fit for consumption under Jewish law".
The Eitz Hayim Humash notes, “The overriding purpose of the dietary code is explicit: “You shall sanctify yourselves and be holy, for I am holy” (Lev. 9:44). The dietary laws constitute a way of sanctifying the act of eating. The eating of meat requires killing a living creature, constantly seen by the Torah as a compromise. These laws elevate the eating of meat to a level of sanctity by introducing categories of permitted and forbidden. For animals, eating is a matter of instinct; only human beings can choose on moral or religious grounds not to eat something otherwise available.”
It is the ability to consciously choose that distinguishes humankind from all of the rest of God’s creations. Our choices each day, from the clothes we put on in the morning to the verbal communications in the workplace reflect the type of person we are, or aspire to be. For the Jew, the beginnings of life are neutral; we are neither good nor bad. What we become is determined by both nature and nurture. Kashrut is a moral discipline for the Jew striving to give meaning to him/herself and discover the power of Godliness in the world. “If I can be so particular about the food I put into my mouth, how much more so words that come out.” “Even though I have an appetite for everything I see, as a human being I must choose to curb my appetites and appreciate what I have.” “The taking of life, even that of an animal, is something that should never be taken lightly.”
The late Rabbi Samuel Dresner wrote, “Judaism ennobles something ordinary and everyday with a code of what to eat and how to eat, by teaching us that every act of life can be hallowed, even the act of eating. As Abraham Heschel wrote, “Perhaps the essential message of Judaism is that in doing the finite, we can perceive the infinite.” In eating a slice of bread we can discover God; in drinking a cup of wine we can sanctify the Sabbath; in preparing a piece of meat we can learn something of the reverence of life. Our glory as humans is in our power to hallow, by means of which we not only overcome the beast within but even surpass the angels.”
Dennis Prager and Joseph Telushkin wrote in their book Questions People Ask About Judaism, “Every time a Jew sits down to eat a kosher meal he or she is reminded that the animal being eaten is a creature of God, that the death of such a creature cannot be taken lightly, that hunting for sport is forbidden, that we cannot treat any living thing irresponsibly, and that we are responsible for what happens to other beings (human and animal) even if we did not come into contact with them.”
Keeping Kosher is not about separating myself from others, nor is it for reasons of health. I do it as a concrete and visible reminder of my holy responsibility to the world I live in and those with whom I share it.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Passover posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/26/10 | Passover
March 26, 2010
In the late 1970’s, African-American writer Alex Haley published the book “Roots” describing his family history dating back to a relative, Kunta Kinte, who was brought to America in 1767 and sold as a slave. In each subsequent generation, the descendents would sit with their children and relate the family story. As slaves, they never wanted to forget that they were once a proud, free people; warriors from Africa. As free people, they never wanted to forget from whence they came. Sound familiar? Their story is our story, only three-thousand years removed!
We, too, were once slaves, in the land of Egypt. Separated by over one-hundred generations, Jews continue to remind themselves of their roots. We should never forget from whence “we” came so we never become immune to the cry of others still suffering under the bondage of slavery. Slavery is alive and well today. Modern day slavery is any system by which an individual or group of human beings is controlled and forced to work for another without their consent or is deceived or manipulated into serving another. This can take many forms, including but not limited to forced labor, commercial sexual exploitation, human trafficking, forced marriage, debt bondage, religious slavery, and more.
Passover also teaches that modern-day slavery may be understood as a euphemism for human pain and suffering; the type seen in the faces of the poor, destitute, and distraught. They may not fit the traditional definition of “slave,” but in America their continued deprivation-whether it be homelessness, hunger, or lack of healthcare-is a stain upon a declaration made by this country on July 4, 1776: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all [people] are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” The Declaration of Independence goes on to say, “That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted.” “We” are the government. “We” bear the responsibility for helping our citizenry realize a fulfilling and enriching life. As Jews, our responsibility is even more pronounced because “we were slaves in the Land of Egypt,” and know all too well what can occur when people turn their back on other people.
There are any number of questions that can (and should) be asked at the Passover Seder table. Let me suggest an additional three. These questions, asked by Rabbi Hillel two thousand years ago, are as relevant today as they were when first asked:
“If I am not for myself, who will be?”
"If I am only for myself, what sort of person am I?
"If not now, When?"
The significance of Passover is found in their answer.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayakhel/Pekude posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/12/10 | Torah Portion: Vayakhel-Pekude
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 39:22-40:38
March 12, 2010
Among the insightful attributes of the Torah is its understanding of the psychology of humankind. It would be much simpler to speak of life in “Pollyannaish” terms: Everyone grows up happily, attends school enthusiastically, succeeds in a chosen profession, embraces the ideals of Judaism willingly, and shows care, concern, and love for all humankind. One can hope and wish, but the Torah realizes this is not the case. As long as “people are people”, there will be differences among us. Some will succeed and others will not, some will care while others care less, some will make a difference and others will subtract! The choice lies not in the hand of fate, but in the responsibility of good parenting.
The final Torah portions in the Book of Exodus return to the process of building a portable sanctuary in the desert. The portion Vayakhel begins with the words, “And Moshe assembled all the congregation of the Children of Israel (Exo. 35:1).” After exhorting the people to observe the Sabbath day even in the process of building something as holy as the ancient Tabernacle, Moses informs them of the need for contributions of gold, silver, brass, fine linen, seal skins, acacia wood, and more. Here we learn that giving is an acquired, rather than innate quality. Not everyone knows how!
“And all the congregation of the Children of Israel departed from the presence of Moshe. And they came, every one whose heart uplifted him, and every one whom his spirit made willing, and they brought the Lord’s offering (Exo. 35:20-21).”
A contemporary Midrash (Jewish legend) teaches, “All came to the assembly to hear Moses' speech, “And Moses gathered together all the congregation of the Children of Israel,” but after he had finished saying what he had to say, “all the congregation of the Children of Israel departed” one by one. Later only the select few individuals “whose heart uplifted them” returned with their donations.”
From the very beginning, Judaism has taught that humankind is not born good, bad, or indifferent; we are simply born. Goodness is acquired. It is taught from birth, both by example and study. The teacher-in this instance the parent-becomes entrusted with the single-most important responsibility in life: Transmitting the moral/ethical values of Judaism to a child. In doing so, a child learns to distinguish between “good” and “bad”, “right” and “wrong.” A child also learns that goodness requires giving. Again, it is through the parent’s words and example that the child acquires the “uplifted heart” necessary to respond to the needs of the community.
The Jewish parent is entrusted with the responsibility to “uplift” the hearts of his/her children to become giving, caring, and loving people. It all begins in the home. It doesn’t come naturally, but Judaism is here to assist in the transmission.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Ki Tisa posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/05/10 | Torah Portion: Ki Tisa (Shabbat Parah)
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 30:11-34:35
March 5, 2010
One should never underestimate the value of art in molding cultural attitudes and behavioral norms. The Encyclopedia Judaica notes, “Of all the major biblical figures, not excepting David, Jacob, Joseph, and Solomon, Moses has inspired the largest amount of creative endeavor in literature, art, and music.”
The most famous sculpture of Moses is the statue by Michelangelo in the San Pietro in Vincoli Church in Rome. What is most notable about the statue are the horns protruding from Moses’ head. The work was originally intended for the mausoleum of Pope Julius II. The image of Moses with horns appears in a number of medieval statues and paintings. The key to understanding “why” is found in the Torah portion Ki Tisa.
Moses has come down from Mt. Sinai with the first set of tablets only to find the Israelites worshipping a golden calf. In anger, Moses throws the tablets to the ground. After scolding the people for their loss of faith, he pleads with God for another moment of divine intimacy. The second revelation of God on Mt. Sinai is done in the absence of the Children of Israel. Moses returns to Mt. Sinai alone. A second set of tablets are prepared, further instruction is given to Moses, and, again, he returns to the Israelites.
Upon returning to the people, Moses is greeted by his brother Aaron who notices “the skin of [Moses} face sent forth beams”(Exo. 34:30). The Hebrew word “keren” is correctly translated as either “a ray of light” or a “horn”. In this context, the correct understanding of the word is “a ray of light” or “beams”. A later Latin translation of the Bible chose to translate the word as “horn”. Medieval artists, including Michelangelo, dependent upon Latin for their understanding of the Hebrew Bible, were misled into believing Moses had horns!
The impact of medieval church art on early Christian theology was, in this instance, devastating. The fires of anti-Semitism were fed by the notion that Jews, like their famous leader Moses, had horns. How important is it to understand a text, like the Hebrew Bible, in its original language? One small mistranslation has taken centuries to correct!
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Purim 5770 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/26/10 | Purim Torah
February 26, 2010
The celebration of Purim begins on Saturday evening, February 27. Purim revolves around the Book of Esther. In the words of Rabbi Nina Beth Cardin, “The [Book] of Esther is a coming-of-age story; it is the story of a young Jewish woman who is transformed from bauble to strategist and ruler; it is the story of her struggle with her identity as a Jew. It is the story of a person whose actions helped her people become victors rather than victims. It is a story about a Jewish woman who passes as a Persian, is chosen to be queen, and has to come out of the closet to save her people.”
The Book of Esther has its heroes (Esther & Mordechai) and its villain (Haman). It is an old-fashioned melodrama with danger, excitement, and a lot of joy. In an age when we take life far too seriously, Purim is the “Jewish” opportunity to dress in costume, make a lot of noise, and celebrate the joy of living. A part of this joy is the ability to laugh, even at ourselves. In this spirit, today I teach some “Purim” Torah. Enjoy!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
To those of us who have children in our lives, whether they are our own, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, or students...here is something to make you chuckle.
Whenever your children are out of control, you can take comfort from the thought that even God's omnipotence did not extend to His own children.
After creating heaven and earth, God created Adam and Eve.
And the first thing he said was "DON'T!"
"Don't what?" Adam replied.
"Don't eat the forbidden fruit." God said.
"Forbidden fruit? We have forbidden fruit?
"Hey Eve..we have forbidden fruit!"
" No Way!"
"Yes way!"
"Do NOT eat the fruit! " said God.
"Why?"
"Because I am your Father and I said so! " God replied, wondering why He hadn't stopped creation after making the elephants.
A few minutes later, God saw His children having an apple break and He was ticked!
"Didn't I tell you not to eat the fruit? " God asked.
"Uh huh," Adam replied.
"Then why did you? " said the Father.
"I don't know," said Eve.
"She started it! " Adam said.
"Did not! "
"Did too! "
"DID NOT! "
Having had it with the two of them, God's punishment was that Adam and Eve should have children of their own. Thus the pattern was set and it has never changed.
BUT THERE IS REASSURANCE IN THE STORY! If you have persistently and lovingly tried to give children wisdom and they haven't taken it, don't be hard on yourself.
If God had trouble raising children, what makes you think it would be a piece of cake for you?
THINGS TO THINK ABOUT!
1. You spend the first two years of their life teaching them to walk and talk.
Then you spend the next sixteen telling them to sit down and shut up.
2. Grandchildren are God's reward for not killing your own children.
3. Mothers of teens now know why some animals eat their young.
4. Children seldom misquote you. In fact, they usually repeat word for word what you shouldn't have said.
5. The main purpose of holding children's parties is to remind yourself that there are children more awful than your own.
6. We childproofed our homes, but they are still getting in.
ADVICE FOR THE DAY: Be nice to your kids. They will choose your nursing home one day.
AND FINALLY: If you have a lot of tension and you get a headache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle: TAKE TWO ASPIRIN AND “KEEP AWAY FROM CHILDREN!!”
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Terumah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/19/10 | Torah Portion: Terumah
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 25:1-27:19
February 19, 2010
“And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.” (Exo. 25:8)
This Torah portion presents the instructions for the building of a portable sanctuary. The sanctuary-referred to as the Mishkan-serves as the center for Israelite worship during the 40 years of wandering in the Sinai desert. More importantly, it becomes the blueprint for the construction of the 1st and 2nd Temples in Jerusalem.
Professor Ismar Schorsch notes, “The model society envisioned by the Torah would not long endure without a ritual link to the source of its inspiration.” Thus, the necessity to build a center for worship. The 10th century Jewish scholar, Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, known as Maimonides, recognized that animal sacrifice-so embedded in the minds & hearts of the former Israelite slaves-had to be continued if this new people were to emerge. In order to take control and re-define the sacrificial cult, it was necessary to create one center-the ancient Temple-that would be the only place sacrifices would be offered, and the priests and levites the only one’s permitted to perform the sacrificial ritual. As centuries past, so did the taste for animal sacrifice. Schorsch points out, “While the destruction of the Temple by the Romans (70 c.e.) was surely a political calamity, it did accelerate the development of the synagogue and a liturgy predicated on the spoken word, prayer, the reading of the Torah, and preaching. Unlike the Temple, the synagogue was portable, inclusive, and democratic. Without it, neither the church nor the mosque is conceivable-nor, for that matter, is the survival of Judaism in the Diaspora. Modern Jews deemed worship by sacrifice a stage in the history of Judaism to be transcended.”
The religious fundamentalism that has gripped Islam, is not without a less violent counterpart in Judaism. There are sects of Jews today (albeit, small in number) who long for the re-building of the ancient Temple in Jerusalem. For many of these Jews, the Western Wall (the last remaining remnant of the 2nd Temple) has become more than just a place to pray; but an idol to pray to. Many prayer books still contain the liturgical call to rebuild the Temple, but for the majority of Jews this is understood in metaphorical terms. The only reason for rebuilding the Temple would be to return to animal sacrifice. As a metaphor, the Temple’s rebuilding symbolizes a reunification of God, people, and the world in peace and harmony. A rebuilt Temple becomes a euphemism for the messianic era.
For Jews, the ultimate value is Jerusalem; not the Temple mount. The Temple mount (the present site of two mosques) is negotiable, Jerusalem is not. The ancient Temple, like the portable sanctuary described in the Torah portion, is an important part of the historical foundation upon which Judaism evolved. It served the early growth of Judaism in the same manner as the synagogue serves us now. An eternal people require a place of worship that mirrors eternity. For Jews, it is the Land of Israel whose heart is Jerusalem. As the 19th century Hasidic rebbe, Rabbi Nahman of Bretslav, so poignantly taught, “Wherever I go, I go to Jerusalem.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Yitro posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/05/10 | Torah Portion: Yitro
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 18:1-20:23
February 5, 2010
This Torah reading is an account of the single-most transformative moment in the history of the Jewish people-God’s revelation on Sinai. In a moment of thunder, lightening, and fire, a mountain lit up and a population of Hebrew slaves became the Jewish people. The acceptance of this pivotal moment is the cornerstone of Judaism, while it’s content is the subject of centuries of theological debate.
The traditional understanding of this seminal moment is that it occurred once, thousands of years ago, and by accepting the Torah, all Jews past, present, and future, became bound by commandments and obligations contained therein. Through the centuries this theological position was always a source of discussion and debate. After the 18th century emancipation of Western European Jewry, Jews began openly questioning their faith in relation to the new opportunities for learning and living in a more open society. By the 20th century, a number of new Jewish denominations (Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist, etc) viewed the moment of revelation in many different ways.
The early 20th century German philosophers Martin Buber and Franz Rosenzweig introduced Judaism to existentialism (existence of the individual self as a free and responsible agent). Buber suggested that all God revealed on Sinai was him/herself. There were no words or commandments. Each individual was challenged to openly reveal themselves to God. Revelation was the moment a person-with honesty & openness-approached another equally honest and open. In this moment, and in the space between these two people, stood God. For Buber, “commandments” got in the way of the intimacy he called an “I-Thou” moment.
Franz Rosenzweig, a colleague of Buber, went one step further. He saw commandments and mitzvot as a necessary roadmap to reach the existential moment of Godliness described by Buber. Rosenzweig also departed from the notion that Sinai occurred only once. He wrote that each person has his/her own individual “Sinai” or “aha” moment; a time, place, or experience that changes a person forever.
Mordechai Kaplan, the 20th century father of Reconstructionism, denied the existence of a supernatural God. For Kaplan, God was a part of all life and an integral part of each human. His theology of naturalism also rejected any notion of a supernatural revelation. Kaplan substituted the word “folk ways” for “mitzvot.” Judaism’s essence is its social base, its ethnic presence. The Jews survive because they are a people with a common language, land, and folkways.
The early founders of Conservative Judaism understood revelation in symbolic rather than literal terms. The Torah, the constitution of Judaism, was the product of divinely-inspired people. God was the God of history and each generation understand God and Torah in relation to their times.
And on, and on. Perhaps the only dogma in Judaism is the requirement for a belief in “One” God. How we understand our moment of origin, the Revelation on Mt. Sinai, continues to be a matter of debate, discussion, and a constant belief in unity through diversity. This is the strength of Judaism.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Tu B'Shevat posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/29/10 | Tu B’Shevat (15th of Shevat)
January 29, 2010
“Whenever someone destroys a useful artifact, or rips clothing, demolishes a building, plugs up a spring, or senselessly destroys food, it violates the spirit of the Torah’s “Bal Tashchit/Do Not Destroy” rule. Such actions are disgraceful.” (Maimonides, Mishnah Torah)
Tu B’Shevat, the new year of trees, is a minor celebration in the Jewish calendar. For most of the 20th century it was celebrated in religious schools by purchasing trees to be planted in Israel by the Jewish National Fund. This single-minded campaign is responsible for the remarkable reforesting of the Judean Hills and the Galilee region of Israel. In the late 20th century, with the increased concern over global warming, air & water pollution, and the destruction of the world’s rain forests, Tu B’Shevat gained renewed importance as the Jewish response to environmentalism.
In Leviticus 19:23 it is written, “And when you enter this land, you shall plant fruit-bearing trees.” Even the ancient rabbis understood the practical importance of trees-shelter & sustenance. In our time, and with a far more sophisticated knowledge of science, we have begun to understand our very survival as a species depends upon the growth and protection of trees.
Trees are the largest and longest living organisms on earth. To grow tall the tree has become a miracle of engineering and a complex chemical factory. It is able to take water and salts out of the earth and lift them up to the leaves, sometimes over 400 ft above. By means of photosynthesis the leaves combine the water and salts with carbon dioxide from the air to produce the nutrients which feed the tree. In this process, as well as wood, trees create many chemicals, seeds and fruit of great utility to humankind. Trees also remove carbon dioxide, the main greenhouse gas, from the air.
Trees are of continued importance to the environment. Tropical rain forests are of particular significance; although they now occupy less than 6 per cent of the land surface of the earth they probably sustain more than half of the biological species on the planet.
There is now a real danger that in the not very distant future humankind will destroy a large proportion of the present population of species on earth and create an uninhabitable environment. Tu B’Shevat comes to teach it does not matter whether you believe environmental changes are caused by human negligence or is a natural phenomena. Since the creation of humankind we have assumed a responsibility as caretaker for this world we inherit. We can ill afford to shirk this responsibility. A concern for trees is only the beginning.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Bo posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/22/10 | Torah Portion: Bo
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 10:1-13:16
January 22, 2010
Human beings possess an innate fear of darkness. Years ago, I was director of Camp Solomon Schechter in Olympia, WA. Each summer we took campers on an overnight hike into the adjoining woods. One of the purposes served by this exercise was teaching the campers a respect for the awesomeness of nature. As darkness fell upon the campsite, the first task at hand was building a campfire; not merely for warmth, but subconsciously as a separation from the fears that lurked in the darkness. After sitting around the campfire, we would gather the campers together for a “late night” walk in the woods. . .without flashlights. The slightest noise created fear among many of the campers. Everyone huddled closer together. The campers soon embraced the comfort provided by the light of the moon, but the fear remained until we returned to the safety of the campfire. No one likes to stand in the dark, physically or metaphysically.
Darkness was the 9th plague God brought upon Pharaoh and the Egyptians. The Egyptians worshipped the sun. Darkness was their greatest fear, especially when there was no proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. In fact, the final three plagues are united by the presence of darkness: In the 8th plague the locusts “darkened” the face of the earth and the 10th plague (death of the first-born) took place at midnight.
It is no coincidence that God is often discovered in the “night of our lives.” It is within moments of personal crisis that one turns to God for comfort. God becomes the primordial light when our world is enveloped in darkness. Rabbi Harold Kushner writes, “God is found in our insistence on finding our way through the valley of the shadow, knowing that there is evil in the world, knowing that some of the time the evil may overpower us, yet fearing no evil, “for Thou art with me.”
The 9th plague was intended to destroy the faith of the Egyptian people by blotting out their Sun god with 24-hour darkness. Without the light of hope, how long can one sustain life? Professor Ismar Schorsch writes, “That faith is a compassionate creator also helps to account for the unconventional fact that in Judaism the day begins at nightfall. Yet we greet the new day as our strength wanes because in the darkness we detect the light to come.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Earthquake In Haiti posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/15/10 | The Haiti Disaster: Emergency Assistance Needed
January 15, 2010
Today is not just a time to “learn” Torah, but to “live it.”
As many as 40,000 or more lives were lost in a matter of minutes in the massive earthquake that rocked Haiti. The larger the number the more difficult it becomes to comprehend. With the sight of dead bodies lying along a roadside or being loaded by a bulldozer into a dump truck, the television screen numbs our senses to the enormity of this disaster. “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”
This moment demands action. In this time of need, donating food and supplies is not as important as contributing money. There is a large number of agencies requesting financial assistance. There is an even larger number of individuals, posing as agencies, using this disaster as an opportunity for a scam. I want to make this easy for you. First, everyone who reads this notice can do something. In the early stages of recovery, the most important work is being done by the International Red Cross. You can text “HAITI” to “90999” and $10 will be donated automatically to the Red Cross and charged to your cell phone bill. For further information and larger donations, check the Red Cross website at redcross.org.
The most important immediate Jewish response to the Haiti earthquake disaster is the American Jewish World Service. If you wish to donate to their efforts go to their website: www.ajws.org.
Torah’s teaching this week is “doing nothing is not an option”.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Shemot posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/08/10 | Torah Portion: Shemot
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 1:1-6:1
January 8, 2010
[This week’s Torah teaching is written by my colleague Rabbi Joyce Newmark of Teaneck, New Jersey. It’s good!]
As we begin reading the book of Shemot/Exodus, the Torah's narrative transitions from the story of a family - Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob - to the story of the Jewish people and the two events that shaped our identity - the exodus from Egypt and the giving of Torah at Mount Sinai.
We begin with an account of the birth and early life of Moses. This story's central event is God's revelation and call to Moses at the burning bush. The Torah tells us that one day Moses was tending his father-in-law's sheep when he noticed a burning thorn bush. Moses says, “I must turn aside to look at this marvelous sight.” Then we read, “When God saw that he had turned aside to look, God called to him.” We can easily understand this passage to mean that the burning bush was a test - that it was only after Moses decided to stop and take notice of it that God decided to call him.
It has been suggested that the bush had been burning for some time and that many people had seen it, said to themselves, “Oh, a burning bush, that's cool” - and just kept on walking. What distinguished Moses was that he saw the bush, recognized it as something extraordinary, and stopped to investigate it and try to understand what it meant.
Rabbi Lawrence Kushner sees another test in the burning bush, because the Torah tells us, “the bush was not consumed.” Rabbi Kushner writes: “How long would you have to watch wood burn before you could know whether or not it actually was being consumed? Even dry kindling wood is not burned up for several minutes. . . . God wanted to find out whether or not Moses could pay attention to something for more than a few minutes.” In other words, God wanted a leader who understood that important tasks often require a significant commitment of time.
Today we seem to live in an “attention deficit” culture. Here's something new - try it once, if it's not everything you hoped for, forget it, and move on to the next new thing. For example, every fall (and now in winter and summer as well), television networks heavily promote the season's new shows, but if the ratings are disappointing after one or two episodes, the show is cancelled, never to be seen again.
It's not just television shows. People want instant success and gratification from their jobs, their friends, their fitness programs, and their family lives. “Been there, done that, it didn't work, so I'm outta here.” A congregant once told me she had come to shul one Friday night, “but it wasn't spiritual, so I won't be coming back.”
If you watch a TV show once and decide that it's not for you, there's no real harm done. But the things that matter - a career, good health and fitness, marriage, parenting, a relationship with God - take time. Sometimes you have to invest a lot of time before you see results. If you refuse to make that investment, you will be left with nothing.
Moses turned away from his daily routine to see a burning bush. He stood and watched it and thought about it, and, finally, he realized that the bush continued to burn but was not consumed. It was then that God called to him, because God knew that although taking the Israelites out of Egypt and leading them to the Promised Land would take 40 years, and that those years would be filled with frustration and disappointments, Moses would not abandon his mission - because God's promise was worth waiting for.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayehi posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/01/10 | Torah Portion: Vayehi
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 47:28-50:26
January 1, 2010
This portion brings to a close the Book of Genesis. The Patriarchal & Matriarchal period of Jewish history comes to an end. Jacob, after living the final 17 years of his life in Egypt in the care of his son, Joseph, dies. Jacob’s sons fear that following the death of their father, their brother Joseph will finally unleash his vengeance against them for trying to kill him in his youth. Their fears are unfounded as Joseph explains to them:
"Have no fear, for am I in place of God? Though you intended me harm, God intended it for good, in order to accomplish what is now the case, to keep alive a numerous people. Thus did [Joseph] comfort them and speak straight to their hearts (Genesis 50:19-20)."
At no point in Joseph's life did he ever express anger against those who disagreed with him. As a youth, his world view was contrary to that of the rest of his family, including his father. Yet, he never forced his brothers, through acts of verbal coercion, to accept his opinions and outlooks. Joseph gave the appearance of one who, at worst, respectfully disagreed with views he did not share. He understood what his brothers never would: the difference in the pursuit of "truth," as opposed to self-interest.
The famous Scottish author, Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) wrote, "In a controversy, the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the truth, and have begun striving for ourselves." Anger is not a positive emotion. After having been involved in an argument, if the first response is, "that makes me so angry," then one is no longer interested in the argument, only the "self."
Remember the "good ole days" in Congress, when a Republican would vigorously debate a Democrat and then share dinner together in the evening? The Talmud notes that the ancient schools of Shammai & Hillel, who disagreed with one another on almost every aspect of Jewish observance and law, married their daughters to each other's sons. They understood that the aim of their arguments was not victory, but common progress.
Joseph seemed to know he served a greater purpose than just his own personal aggrandizement. He understood there was a "truth" bigger than him and his brothers. He wasn't willing to waste his precious time in anger, enmity, hatred, or vengeance. He saw the bigger picture; the future. It is only fitting that his death bring to a close the first chapter in the history of the Jewish people.
Happy New Year!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Hanukah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/11/09 | First Night of Hanukah
December 11, 2009
Hanukah is a wonderful celebration that has captured the attention and imagination of more Jews than any other Jewish celebration of the year. The Hebrew School version of the Hanukah story portrays the “few overcoming the many” in a battle for religious freedom capped off by the “miracle of oil” (one day’s supply of oil keeping the ancient Temple menorah lit for eight days). The story of the ancient Maccabees, and the celebration of Hanukah, are historical realities, albeit, often embellished. This Friday’s edition of the New York Times contained an op-ed piece written by David Brooks, himself a Jew, entitled “The Story of Hanukah.” I have included the article below. Though brief, it offers an “adult” understanding of the history of Hanukah and a more sophisticated insight into the importance of this much-celebrated occasion.
“Tonight Jewish kids will light the menorah, spin their dreidels and get their presents, but Hanukkah is the most adult of holidays. It commemorates an event in which the good guys did horrible things, the bad guys did good things and in which everybody is flummoxed by insoluble conflicts that remain with us today. It’s a holiday that accurately reflects how politics is, how history is, how life is.
With the spread of Greek culture, Alexander’s Empire, and the smaller empires that succeeded it, brought modernizing ideas and institutions to the Middle East. At its best, Hellenistic culture emphasized the power of reason and the importance of individual conscience. It brought theaters, gymnasiums and debating societies to the cities. It raised living standards, especially in places like Jerusalem.
Many Jewish reformers embraced these improvements. The Greeks had one central idea: their aspirations to create an advanced universal culture. And the Jews had their own central idea: the idea of one true God. The reformers wanted to merge these two ideas.
Urbane Jews assimilated parts of Greek culture into their own, taking Greek names like Jason, exercising in the gymnasium and prospering within Greek institutions. Not all Jews assimilated. Some resisted quietly. Others fled to the hills. But Jerusalem did well. The Seleucid dynasty, which had political control over the area, was not merely tolerant; it used imperial money to help promote the diverse religions within its sphere.
In 167 B.C., however, the Seleucid king, Antiochus IV, issued a series of decrees defiling the temple, confiscating wealth and banning Jewish practice, under penalty of death. It’s unclear why he did this. Some historians believe that extremist Jewish reformers were in control and were hoping to wipe out what they saw as the primitive remnants of their faith. Others believe Antiochus thought the Jews were disloyal fifth columnists in his struggle against the Egyptians and, hence, was hoping to assimilate them into his nation.
Regardless, those who refused to eat pork were killed in an early case of pure religious martyrdom.
As Jeffrey Goldberg, who is writing a book on this period, points out, the Jews were slow to revolt. The cultural pressure on Jewish practice had been mounting; it was only when it hit an insane political level that Jewish traditionalists took up arms. When they did, the first person they killed was a fellow Jew.
In the town of Modin, a Jew who was attempting to perform a sacrifice on a new Greek altar was slaughtered by Mattathias, the old head of a priestly family. Mattathias’s five sons, led by Judah Maccabee, then led an insurgent revolt against the regime.
The Jewish civil war raised questions: Who is a Jew? Who gets to define the right level of observance? It also created a spiritual crisis. This was not a battle between tribes. It was a battle between theologies and threw up all sorts of issues about why bad things happen to faithful believers and what happens in the afterlife — issues that would reverberate in the region for centuries, to epic effect.
The Maccabees are best understood as moderate fanatics. They were not in total revolt against Greek culture. They used Greek constitutional language to explain themselves. They created a festival to commemorate their triumph (which is part of Greek, not Jewish, culture). Before long, they were electing their priests.
On the other hand, they were fighting heroically for their traditions and the survival of their faith. If they found uncircumcised Jews, they performed forced circumcisions. They had no interest in religious liberty within the Jewish community and believed religion was a collective regimen, not an individual choice.
They were not the last bunch of angry, bearded religious guys to win an insurgency campaign against a great power in the Middle East, but they may have been among the first. They retook Jerusalem in 164 B.C. and rededicated the temple. Their regime quickly became corrupt, brutal and reactionary. The concept of reform had been discredited by the Hellenizing extremists. Practice stagnated. Scholarship withered. The Maccabees became religious oppressors themselves, fatefully inviting the Romans into Jerusalem.
Generations of Sunday school teachers have turned Hanukkah into the story of unified Jewish bravery against an anti-Semitic Hellenic empire. Settlers in the West Bank tell it as a story of how the Jewish hard-core defeated the corrupt, assimilated Jewish masses. Rabbis later added the lamp miracle to give God at least a bit part in the proceedings.
But there is no erasing the complex ironies of the events, the way progress, heroism and brutality weave through all sides. The Maccabees heroically preserved the Jewish faith. But there is no honest way to tell their story as a self-congratulatory morality tale. The lesson of Hanukkah is that even the struggles that saved a people are dappled with tragic irony, complexity and unattractive choices.”
What do you think about Hanukah, now? How does it speak to us today? Hmm.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Vayishlach posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/04/09 | Torah Portion: Vayishlach
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 32:4-36:43
December 4, 2009
To date, the patriarch Jacob’s life has been one of deception and disappointment. From birth, Jacob was to be the “chosen one”-the son who would carry on the journey of his grandfather Abraham. Could it be that parental expectations were too great? Did Jacob believe the only way he could please his mother Rebecca’s hopes for him was by taking advantage of others? Did the pressure of growing up in the tent of Isaac and Rebecca destroy Jacob’s self-esteem and undermine his confidence?
In the 50’s and 60’s there were a number of TV sitcoms purporting to reflect a normal American family. There was Ozzie & Harriet where every evening the family sat down to a meal and discussed inane happenings of the day. Curiously, never once did the father Ozzie go to work! Leave It To Beaver chronicled the daily routine of little Beaver Cleaver and his older brother Wally. Each day began with a family breakfast and concluded with a family dinner. Father Knows Best injected the caring physician and father into the mix. Any family that didn’t measure up to these standards was considered dysfunctional. The truth is more of us than not encountered some level of dysfunction in growing up. Most of us entered adult life carrying at least some troubling baggage from youth.
In trying to understand Jacob’s story, there is the gnawing question, “Who’s fault is it?” Did his parents, his mother in particular, permanently injure his character through unreal expectations? How about us? Are we permanently maimed by being raised in a dysfunctional environment? Is our parents divorce the reason for our bitterness and unhappiness? Was the lack of parental attention and affection the reason we are the way we are today? The answer to all these questions is maybe yes, maybe no. The questions that should be asked are, “Are we living a life of excuses? Do we have to be the way we are? Can we change?”
In this week’s Torah portion, Jacob has a dream in which he enters into a wrestling match with an angel. In the end, he prevails and as a condition for releasing the angel Jacob demands a blessing. The angel responds, “What is your name?” He replied, “Jacob.” Said he, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and prevailed (Gen. 32:28-29).” If we understand the angel as a metaphor for Jacob’s conscience, then we have a person grappling with who he was and who he wants to be. In the end, Jacob prevails. He realizes he cannot escape his past but neither does he have to be defined by it. No longer will he be Jacob (literally, “he who held on to the heel of his brother”), but Israel (literally, “he who wrestled with God”).
None of us can deny our past. It is a part of who we are. Like Jacob, we possess the power to change the elements of personality and character we are not proud of. If we can learn to accept that a certain level of dysfunction occurs in the lives of all children, then as adults we have the ability to sift through the baggage of youth and make of ourselves the type of person our parents wanted us to be. The late Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan said it best when he wrote, “We [each individual human] possess the power making for salvation.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayetze posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/27/09 | Torah Portion: Vayetze
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 28:10-32:3
November 27, 2009
Among the secular holidays, Thanksgiving stands out as a time when we tend to focus on the past; memories of Thanksgiving gatherings and family celebrations from our youth. For many, it’s a day to reflectively understand what our parents and family members mean to us. Sure, they made a few mistakes, but who doesn’t? Perhaps, they were not everything we wanted them to be, but as we grew older it was amazing how much they learned (with a nod to Mark Twain)! One’s maturity is directly linked to the moment he/she is able to finally reconcile childhood issues of growing up with a love for those closest to us.
It took the patriarch Jacob 20 years to learn this lesson. Fearing a reprisal from his brother Esau for cheating him out of first his birthright and later his blessing, Jacob runs away from home taking refuge with his Uncle Laban. After 20 years, 2 wives, 2 handmaids, 12 sons, and 1 daughter, Jacob approaches his uncle and requests, “Give me leave to go back to my own homeland (Gen. 30:25).” Having nurtured his own large family and acquired great wealth, Jacob realizes an emptiness still exists; a longing to re-connect with his brother and those who made his life possible. It was time to go home.
Thanksgiving is about going home! It’s about re-visiting memories of good times and bad with the people who shaped our lives. Unlike a birthday, anniversary, or even Hanukkah celebration, people seldom bring material gifts to the Thanksgiving table, instead they bring something more important. . .themselves. The gift brought on Thanksgiving is another chance to love and be loved, to cherish and be cherished, by those who in spite of moments of disappointment still mean a great deal to us. It is no surprise that Thanksgiving is the busiest time of year for the travel industry. Human beings seem to possess an innate desire to re-connect.
The meaning of Thanksgiving, the significance of “going home,” is captured in the words of Rabbi Harold Kushner who shares the following story: “I was sitting on a beach one summer day, watching two children, a boy and a girl, playing in the sand. They were hard at work building an elaborate sand castle by the water’s edge, with gates and towers and moats and internal passages. Just when they had nearly finished their project, a big wave came along and knocked it down, reducing it to a heap of wet sand. I expected the children to burst into tears, devastated by what had happened to all their hard work. But they surprised me. Instead, they ran up the shore away from the water, laughing and holding hands, and sat down to build another castle. I realized that they had taught me an important lesson. All the things in our lives, all the complicated structures we spend so much time and energy creating, are built on sand. Only our relationships to other people endure. Sooner or later, the wave will come along and knock down what we have worked so hard to build up. When that happens, only the person who has somebody’s hand to hold will be able to laugh.”
Happy Thanksgiving weekend!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Toldot posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/20/09 | Torah Portion: Toldot
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 26:1-28:9
November 20, 2009
Alan Dershowitz teaches and preaches law in the classroom, courtroom, and on television. His expert interest in constitutional law goes beyond just the U.S. Constitution to include the constitution of the Jewish people: Torah. He has even authored a text entitled “The Genesis of Justice”; a commentary on the Book of Genesis.
Dershowitz writes, “The entire Book of Genesis is about the early development of justice in human society. Jacob is born into a world with few rules and many inconsistent precedents regarding deception. His father and grandfather, Isaac and Abraham, pretended their wives were their sisters in order to save their own lives. Moreover, his God is inconsistent in carrying out threats and promises. The result is a violent and lawless world.”
A considerable body of Midrash (Jewish legend) was written to find moral justification for Jacob’s early behavior. He is a person who cheats his twin brother, Esau, out of his birthright: “And Esau said to Jacob: Let me swallow, I pray, some of this red, red lentil soup for I am faint. . . . And Jacob said to Esau: Sell me first your birthright (Gen. 25:30 & 31)”. Then Jacob attempts to cheat his brother out of his rightful blessing by disguising himself as Esau: “And Jacob said to his father: I am Esau, your first-born son (Gen. 27:19)”).
If one is honest to the text, there can be no moral justification for Jacob’s early actions. The most that can be said is he was acting in the same manner as his father and grandfather, both of whom saved their lives by asking their wives to pass themselves off as their respective sisters (with regard to Abraham, see Gen. 12:11-20, and with regard to Isaac, see Gen. 26:1-12). In a world still lacking in lawful and ethical standards, deception was treated as “just another way” of doing business. Jacob followed in the footsteps of his ancestors.
As a child, I was taught “when you have a dance, you have to pay the band,” meaning, unless you’re willing to accept the consequences of your actions, don’t do it! Jacob paid the price for his deception; he was deceived by his Uncle Laban. He also suffered from the later actions of his own sons who deceived him into believing his beloved son, Joseph, was dead.
As parents we must be constantly aware of the example we set for our children, and as adults we must be able to embrace the maturity required to leave the unnecessary baggage of youth behind.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Chaye Sarah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/12/09 | Torah Portion: Haye Sarah
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 23:1-25:18
November 12, 2009
“And the life of Sarah was a hundred years and seven years and twenty years: these were the years of the life of Sarah.”
(Gen. 23:1)
Whenever the Torah begins with the phrase “and the life of. . .”, it is coming to report a death. What is curious about the above verse is the way in which the Torah reports Sarah’s age at death. It could have simply written, “and the life of Sarah was a hundred and twenty-seven years.” Instead, it writes “a hundred years and seven years and twenty years.” The repetition of the word “years” prompted the 10th century Bible scholar Rabbi Shlomo ben Yitzhaki (known by the acronym “Rashi”) to explain, “The reason the word “year” is written at every term is to tell you that each term must be explained by itself as a complete number. At the age of one hundred she was a a woman of twenty in regard to her innocence. . .and when she was twenty she was as beautiful as when she was seven.”
Rashi teaches that one’s chronological age is merely a number, not a measure of one’s life. Sarah was as vibrant in spirit at 100 as she was at 20, and at 20 as youthful as at 7! No artificial makeover was necessary. Sarah was who she always was. Lest we think times were different then; people were less vain, don’t forget it was this same Sarah who, when told by God she would give birth to a son in her nineties, laughed and said, “Now that I am withered, am I to have enjoyment-with my husband so old?” She was conscious of the physical toll life had taken, but refused to let it define her.
With the aging of the 20th century “baby boomers”, a culture of “youth” has taken hold. Many people today define themselves not in terms of who they are, but what they look like. To paraphrase Rashi, what is important is not to be at hundred years like you were at twenty, but to physically appear at hundred years like you were at twenty! Entire industries have been created to make this dream a reality. A worship of God has been replaced by a worship of the body.
If the goal in Jewish life is to emulate God then being young at hundred means maintaining the youthful drive for a better world, continued intellectual pursuit and a moral/ethical innocence. The body is merely the shell serving as a vehicle for the character and personality of our strivings. As with any vehicle, we have the responsibility to keep it in shape, but it can never be a replacement for who we really are.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Vayera posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/06/09 | Torah Portion: Vayera
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 18:1-22:24
November 6, 2009
When there exists a tension between human love and divine will, what wins out? Does one’s love for family and friends take precedence over divine expectation or does God’s will trump all?
Sarah says to Abraham, “Cast out that slave woman and her son (Gen. 21:10).” “The matter distressed Abraham greatly, for it concerned his [first-born] son [Ishmael]. . . . [And God said to Abraham] As for the son of the slave woman, I will make a nation of him, too, for he is your seed (Gen. 21:11 & 13).” Abraham thus expelled Hagar and Ishmael from his house.
Sarah’s jealousy toward the son of her handmaid drives her to demand their expulsion. Abraham demonstrates a strong sense of compassion and concern, but his natural feelings give way to the divine scheme in which Isaac, Ishmael, and their descendents will have a special place in history.
The same theme occurs in the concluding section of this Torah portion when God tells Abraham: “Take your son, your favored one, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the heights that I will point out to you (Gen. 22:2).” Does Abraham argue with God for the life of his son? “Early the next morning, Abraham saddled his ass and took with him two of his servants and his son Isaac. . .and set out for the place of which God had told him (Gen. 22:3).”
After expelling his first son, Ishmael, God now demands that Abraham offer up his other son, Isaac, as a sacrifice. Here, too, Abraham’s love for his child is pitted against the demands of God. Rabbi Gunther Plaut points out, “Both deal with the mysterious purposes of the One who encompasses the whole world and is at the same time the guiding Force of the people of Abraham and Isaac.”
Abraham’s behavior seems so foreign to us. Like Job, it’s easy to believe in God when it requires little demand or sacrifice, but when confronted with ultimate sacrifice (in the case of Abraham, his own son) are we still willing to heed a divine calling? In truth, God exists in this world only when good people heed the divine command to work toward bettering the lives of those around them, even at the risk of sacrifice. Professor Abraham Joshua Heschel said it best when he remarked, “God is waiting on every road that leads from intention to action, from desire to satisfaction.”
In the end, it was only a test, but-according to which midrash (legend) you read-Abraham was willing to act on God’s command. The medieval commentator Joseph Albo wrote, “The reward for potential good deeds is less than the reward for actual good deeds.” That Abraham was willing to not just give “lip service” to God’s word, but to act on it demonstrated the depth of his faith, commitment, and devotion to God and the future of the Jewish people.
There is a famous phrase in the Siddur (prayer book) that concludes a moment of personal meditation: May the words of [our] mouths and the meditations of [our] hearts be acceptable to You, O Lord. I might add, “and may there acceptance result not in more words but worthy deeds.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
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Lech Lecha posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/30/09 | Torah Portion: Lech Lecha
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 12:1-17:27
October 30, 2009
The founders of the modern State of Israel envisioned a mass aliyah (immigration) from wherever a Jew lived, including North America. It never happened. With a few exceptions, Israel has remained an ingathering for Jews living in oppression-Yemen, Syria, former Soviet Union, Argentina (during its economic fall-out), and Ethiopia. Even non-Jewish refugees-like the Vietnamese “boat people” of the ‘70’s-found sanctuary in Israel. The reticence of a Jewish population to leave its land of birth, even for a State of Israel, is not an historical anomaly.
It was not the idealistic initiative of Abraham to pick up, leave his parents and place of birth, and head for an unknown location (Canaan). It was God who had to tell Abraham, in no uncertain words, “Lech Lecha”-literally, “Get outta here!” Had he not heeded this command, the theological prominence of a belief in One God may not have taken root; the Jewish people might never have been.
In the 5th century b.c.e., when the Persian leader Cyrus permitted Jews to return from exile in Persia to rebuild the 2nd Temple in Jerusalem, only a handful complied. The majority of the Jewish exiles were quite comfortable where they were. Even when times were not so good, Jews still identified with the lands of their birth. During the 15th century Inquisition in Spain, more than half the Jewish population chose to convert to Catholicism rather than face the prospect of expulsion. During the days leading up to the Holocaust, most German Jews refused to believe that the “Fatherland” would turn on them.
We live at a rare moment in history; a time when a strong and vibrant Jewish state exists. Yet, American Jews remain unwilling to give up their land of birth, even for a Jewish homeland. As a people we have never strived to be separate and apart but accepted and included. Even as we dreamt and prayed for a “Shevat Tzion”-Return to the Land of Zion, we unconsciously wanted nothing more than to be considered “normal” like everyone else. Though history continually reminds us we are not like everyone else, we still refuse to give up the dream. This is why every generation needs an Abraham to be reminded at least once, “Lech Lecha”-Get Outta Here! Except in our day, we have a place to go!
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Noah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/23/09 | Torah Portion: Noah
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 6:9-11:32
October 23, 2009
Having recently concluded another holiday season, we should keep in mind it’s primary message: Tshuvah/repent, return, and begin, again. One should not wait until next year to evaluate the worthiness of one’s deeds, actions, and words. This is a process that goes on “24/7.” In part, this is the message delivered in the story of Noah and the Ark.
“The earth became corrupt before God; the earth was filled with lawlessness. . . God said to Noah, ‘I have decided to put an end to all flesh, for the earth is filled with lawlessness because of them: I am about to destroy them with the earth. Make yourself an ark. . .” (Gen. 6:11-14). Targum Onkelos, an ancient Aramaic translation of the Torah, tried to understand God’s reasoning and purpose by offering a twist to the translation of Gen. 6:3. The original Hebrew seemed to express a frustration on behalf of God toward his/her creation: “My breath shall not abide in man forever, since he is but flesh; let the days allowed him be 120 years.” Onkelos translated the verse, “And God said this evil generation shall not endure before Me forever; for they are flesh and their deeds are evil. I will grant them an extension of 120 years, to see if they repent.”
The 10th century French Bible scholar, Rashi, picked up on the Aramaic translation and further noted, “God instructed Noah to begin building his ark long before the onset of the flood in the hope that people would ask him its purpose and be moved to repent.”
Understood in this manner, it was never God’s desire to destroy the earth. People would see Noah building this ark and ask him, “Why?” He would tell them God has given up on humankind and intends to destroy the world. They, in turn, would work to rehabilitate society and God would rescind the order. We know what happened!
The message is clear. We always have the chance to re-direct our actions, until it’s too late. We know we are depleting our natural resources and polluting the environment. We have been warned of what might happen if we do nothing. While there are those who refuse to accept scientific evidence of human harm to the environment, there are many more who are investing time and money in alternative energy sources and “green” technology. Whether humankind has a significant impact on global warming or not, learning to live a more ecologically-balanced life style can only be good for us and the world we live in.
The teachings of some of the ancient scholars suggest it was not God who destroyed the world but humankind through collective inaction to the threat that stood before them. Is it any different for us, in our day?
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Bereishet posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/16/09 | Torah Portion: Bereishet
Chaps. 1:1-6:8
October 16, 2009
And we begin, again! The 1st chapter of Genesis contains the famous creation story. On the 6th day God created humankind. In an ancient legend (midrash) it is written, “When the Holy One came to create Adam, the ministering angels formed themselves into groups and parties, some of them saying, “Let him be created,” while others urged, “Let him not be created.” Love said, “Let him be created, because he will dispense acts of love”; Truth said, “Let him not be created, because he will be a creature of lies”; Righteousness said, “Let him be created because he will perform righteous deeds”; Peace said, “Let him not be created, because he will lead to confrontation and war.” What did God do? He took Truth and cast it to the earth. Said the ministering angels before the Holy One, “Sovereign of the universe! Why do you cast away Truth?” God responded, “Let truth spring up from the earth (Psalm 85:12).”
The 18th century Eastern European Torah scholar Menahem Mendel of Kotzk (affectionately known as the “Kotzker Rebbe”) was confused by the above teaching. He explained it as follows: “What good would it do to only banish Truth? Peace, which had also argued against the creation of human beings, still remained. The answer is that in banishing Truth, obviously there would be Peace. For the root of quarreling is that everyone battles for his own truth. But if Truth is pushed off to one side, then there is nothing left to argue about, no one to denounce Peace!”
In the universe of faith, there exists one source of Truth-God. Having cast Truth to the earth, the Midrash describes an ideal peaceful world committed to the life-long search for Truth. The teaching also realizes then, as now, when individuals or communities of individuals invest themselves with their own truth, the result is division, confrontation, and war.
There are universal truths, national truths, political truths, and worst of all, religious truths. My god is greater than your god. My god requires the annihilation of disbelievers and heretics. My god only grants salvation to people who swear their allegiance to him. My god does not permit the evils of modern medicine. My god hates your god because your god is godless, and so on.
The midrash and the commentary of the Kotzker Rebbe are making the same point: The Light of Truth gives off more than one ray. Ours is not to denounce other religious traditions, but to respect them and work with them in a common and peaceful search for the ultimate good-Truth. The search begins this week as we embark on a new cycle of Torah study.
Rabbi Howard Siegel |
Sukkot 5770 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/02/09 | Sukkot
October 2, 2009
(reprint from 2006)
This evening marks the beginning of the eight-day festival of Sukkot. A "Sukkah" is a small structure-often referred to as a "booth"- that in former times was constructed in the fields during the autumn harvest for the farmer to live in while protecting his crops from theft. The holiday is referred to in the Torah where the "Sukkah" has become synonymous with the tents the Israelites lived in during their 40 years of wandering.
In our day, Jewish tradition calls upon Jews to construct a Sukkah outside the comforts of their home. Many eat their meals in the Sukkah during the festival and some even sleep in it. Jewish law is rather precise with regard to how the Sukkah is built. The walls may be constructed of any material. Two complete walls and a part of a third will satisfy the minimum requirements and it should be strong enough to withstand the impact of ordinary winds. It is a temporary structure erected in the open air, under the sky and the ceiling is to be covered with cut branches. The branches on top should be loose enough so that one can see the sky, yet thick enough so that the shadow it casts on the ground exceeds the light thrown by the sun.
Sukkot is the Jewish thanksgiving. As such, it is also traditional to decorate the Sukkah with various fruits and vegetables symbolizing the harvest.
Rabbi Harold Kushner suggests a more contemporary understanding of the Sukkah and the holiday of Sukkot (plural of "Sukkah"). Rabbi Kushner sees the temporary, often flimsy, construction of a Sukkah as a way of saying "when part of your world collapses, make due with what you have left!” The holiday of Sukkot teaches us that Thanksgiving is about giving thanks for all the blessings we have: Those we take for granted, those we discover in times of crisis, and those that still remain when all else is gone.
What better place to appreciate-at least once a year-what we have than a Sukkah which reflects how little we need when we have God.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center
Director |
Rosh Hashanah 5770 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/18/09 | Rosh Hashanah 5770
September 18, 2009
Rosh Hashanah-the beginning of a new year of Jewish life & living-is defined by change; things change, time changes, and so do people. Nature instinctively sheds its seasonal appearance only to re-emerge with renewed beauty in the spring. Humankind is not so instinctive. For us, change becomes a choice. We can shed the habits and behavior that have held us back, or not. As the Torah so poignantly states, “I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life!” (Deut. 30:19).
My colleague and friend, Rabbi Elie Spitz, offers the following teaching on this, the eve of a new year: “Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel said that we should live our lives as if painting a work of art. I read that infrared photographs of the Mona Lisa revealed that Leonardo da Vinci had repainted parts of his masterpiece. “Aha,” I thought, “we can repaint.”
“Each relationship provides a canvas. Where we have failed our children or our life partners, we can repaint or fill in the canvas. Repair is often adding a bit more love, steadiness, or attention to make up for past conflict, neglect, or foolishness. Like a work of art, our relationships need the perspective of a full canvas, allowing us to appreciate the dark lines, drab patches, and the bright colors. These different moods and moments can be part of a coherent, attractive whole.”
“The meaning of the word Tshuvah is “to return.” This is the season for teshuvah. We can re-vision, revise and augment the canvases of our lives. We can make them more whole, more holy, more evocative of an embracing smile with each act, with each stroke of color.”
May we all be inscribed and sealed for a year of happiness, health, and peace.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Shoftim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/21/09 | Torah Portion: Shoftim
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 16:18-21:9
August 21, 2009
“Justice, Justice shall you pursue that you may thrive and occupy the land that the Lord your God is giving you” (Deut. 16:20)
This pithy verse is the foundation piece and moral underpinning of Jewish law and practice. Abraham Joshua Heschel suggests this statement implies more that just respecting and following justice; “we must actively pursue it!”
The New York Times reported this morning, “Over ferocious American objections, Abdel Basset Ali al-Megrahi, the only person convicted in the1988 Lockerbie jet bombing, flew home to a jubilant welcome in Libya on Thursday night after the Scottish government ordered his release on compassionate grounds. . . .he had served 8 years of a 27-year minimum sentence on charges of murdering 270 people in Britain’s worst terrorist episode.” Mr. Megrahi is reported suffering terminal prostate cancer and has only months to live.
The person responsible for making the decision to release Megrahi on compassionate grounds was Scotland’s justice minister, Kenny MacAskill. In his statement to the press, MacAskill said, "Mr. Al Megrahi did not show his victims any comfort or compassion. They were not allowed to return to the bosom of their families to see out their lives, let alone their dying days. No compassion was shown by him to them. But that alone is not a reason for us to deny compassion to him and his family in his final days. Our justice system demands that judgment be imposed but compassion be available. Our beliefs dictate that justice be served, but mercy be shown. Compassion and mercy are about upholding the beliefs that we seek to live by, remaining true to our values as a people. No matter the severity of the provocation or the atrocity perpetrated. For these reasons - and these reasons alone - it is my decision that Mr. Abdel baset Ali Mohmed Al Megrahi, convicted in 2001 for the Lockerbie bombing, now terminally ill with prostate cancer, be released on compassionate grounds and allowed to return to Libya to die."
Several countries, including the United States, protested vehemently the actions of the Scottish government. How can a dispassionate murderer of 270 innocent civilians be shown compassion? At the very least, shouldn’t he be required to serve out his sentence even if it means dying in prison? Where is the logic and reason in permitting him to spend his final days with his family, when he so callously took the same privilege away from 270 others? Sounds like a “no-brainer,” except for one matter: what does “Justice, Justice You Shall Pursue” mean?
Many biblical and rabbinic commentators agree that the repetition of the word “Justice” conveys the idea that the pursuit of justice is not only the responsibility of government, of judges within society, but also a mitzvah for each individual. One may not say, “Let the courts worry about right and wrong or justice and injustice. I will remain silent.” Mr. MacAskill’s decision is a challenge to our moral/ethical value system. Because the perpetrator showed no compassion in his actions, should we respond to him in like fashion? He was not sentenced to death, but to a minimum prison term of 27 years. As the minister stated, “Our beliefs dictate that justice be served, but mercy be shown. Compassion and mercy are about upholding the beliefs that we seek to live by, remaining true to our values as a people. No matter the severity of the provocation or the atrocity perpetrated.” Justice is not about vengeance, it is about maintaining a social contract protecting the rights and freedoms of individuals. Is compassion not also an element in justice?
I am as perplexed as you are with this action, but a large degree of my perplexity is in trying to make sense of justice, mercy, compassion, and the gut reaction to seek vengeance. I do not want to present the perpetrator with even a posthumous victory knowing I abandoned my ideals to stoop to his level.
Elie Wiesel tells the following story: “There was a righteous man of Sodom, who walked the streets protesting against the injustice of his city. People made fun of him, derided him. Finally, a young person asked: “Why do you continue your protest against evil; can't you see no one is paying attention to you?” He answered, “I’ll tell you why I continue. In the beginning I thought I would change people. Today, I know I cannot. Yet, if I continue my protest, at least I will prevent others from changing me.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Eikev posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/07/09 | Torah Portion: Eikev
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 7:12-11:25
August 7, 2009
Terrorism has made a large percentage of Americans distrustful of Arabs and Muslims. Illegal immigration has hardened the hearts of many toward Mexicans. Torah speaks loudly and clearly to a growing dispassion and insensitivity toward other races and creeds.
“For the Lord your God is God supreme and Lord supreme, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who shows no favor and takes no bribe, but upholds the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and befriends the stranger, providing him with food and clothing. You too must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Deut. 10:17-19)
The injunction to remember “you were strangers in the Land of Egypt,” appears no less than 36 times in the Hebrew Bible. The fact it is mentioned so many times suggests at least two concerns: 1) It must be of utmost importance, and 2) it must be a significant problem even among the ancient Israelites. Modernity has not wiped clean humankind’s continued inclination toward making judgments about others based on racial, geographical or theological persuasion. Whether it be the African-American man in Bellaire, Texas, shot by police in front of his home for being suspected of stealing his own car, or a person sending friends e-mail messages containing mean and spiteful attachments attacking Arabs, or neo-conservative organizations committed to denying any basic human right to illegal immigrants. In many instances the perpetrators deny being racists, portraying themselves as the last line of defense for the American way of life. 2,000 years ago, yesterday, or today, this is why the Bible needs to reiterate over and over again, “You too must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”
The late contemporary Torah commentator, Pinchas Peli, eloquently frames the discussion: “The proper treatment of the stranger which the Bible requires of us does not remain in the realm of lofty ideals paying lip-service to human rights in general. It is spelled out over and over again, in concrete terms. It must be expressed in equality in law and justice (Leviticus 24:22), in equal working conditions and equal pay for labor (Deuteronomy 24:14), an equal share in welfare support (Leviticus 25:35), and above all in respect and love. This last requirement, love, being the hardest, is repeated several times, and reaches its peak in the Code of Holiness (Leviticus 19:33): “And if the stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. The stranger. . .shall be to you as the home-born among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. I am the Lord your God.”
Peli goes on to note, “Love him like yourself” could very well mean, love him because he is like yourself.” There are bad people in this world, but because some of them are Arab or Muslim does not mean all Arabs and Muslims are innately bad. There are illegal immigrants who have engaged in harmful criminal activity, but this should not cast aspersion on the those who entered this country, without the proper papers, in search of a better life for them and their families. Bigotry and racism have an uncanny way of appearing in the guise of “justice and righteousness.” The Bible emphatically instructs us to beware, never forgetting our responsibility to all humanity, especially the downtrodden. Remember, we “were strangers in Egypt.” We know all too well what it was like.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Va'et'chanan posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/31/09 | Torah Portion: Va’et’chanan
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 3:23-7:11
July 31, 2009
“Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Ehad”
Hear, O Israel! The Lord is Our God, the Lord alone (Deut. 6:4)
This single verse is commonly referred to as the most important statement, or prayer, in Jewish life. The Eitz Hayim Chumash commentary writes, “How did the “Shema” become the quintessential Jewish prayer, when technically it is not a prayer at all? (Prayers are addressed to God; the Shema is addressed to the Israelites.) Probably because it contains in just a few lines the basic theological commitments of Judaism: That there is a God; that there is only one God; that God is not only singular but also unique-no other being is like God; that the Jewish people have a specially intimate relationship with God and that we are commanded as Jews to love God wholeheartedly, to study God’s word, and to teach God’s word to our children.”
One midrash (Jewish legend) suggests the origin of this verse came in the final moments of Jacob’s life. His name had been changed from “Jacob” to “Israel.” As death approached, his sons gathered around to assure him they would carry on his traditions and those of their great grandfather Abraham-Listen, our father Israel, we share your belief that The Lord Is Our God, The Lord Alone.
The most important words in this one-line Jewish pledge of allegiance are the first (“Shema/Listen”) and the last “Ehad/The Lord Alone”).
Listen! Prayer is not just about talking to God, but listening to what God has to say. For the Jew, God’s word is the Torah. The late chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary, Professor Louis Finkelstein, wrote, “When I pray, I speak to God. When I study Torah, God speaks to me.” The imminent 20th century theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel expanded upon this theme by writing, “Jewish prayer is an act of listening. We do not bring forth our own words. The self is silent; the spirit of the people Israel speaks. In prayer, we listen to what the words convey.”
The Lord Alone! Another profound rabbi, scholar, and theologian of the 20th century, Rabbi Milton Steinberg, had this to say with regard to the “oneness” of God. “What do we mean when we proclaim that God is one? First, we reject the claim that God is none, that there is no God and the world is the product of random chance. Second, we reject the claim that God is two, a god of good and a god of evil. Jewish theology does not explain evil by positing a devil, a force of wickedness as powerful as God. Human misuse of our power to choose causes most of the evil in the world. And third, we reject the claim God is many, that there are many deities, each specializing in one aspect of life or another. Only when God is One can we speak of a single moral law, of behavior being right or wrong in the sight of God.”
And the Jew recites these words every morning and evening. They are the centerpiece of the Shaharit (morning) and Ma’ariv (evening) religious service. They are often the first Hebrew prayer a child learns and the final spoken words prior to death. It is one brief verse whose depth of meaning is limitless; whose place in time infinite.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Devarim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/24/09 | Torah Portion: Devarim
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 1:1-3:22
“These are the words that Moses addressed to all Israel on the other side of the Jordan” (Deut. 1:1). And, with this introductory statement the final book of the Torah (Deuteronomy) begins. Ostensibly, the book is a collection of final discourses delivered by Moses to the Israelites prior to their entry into the Promised Land. The speeches are a combination of the history of 40-years in the desert and final behavioral/moral instructions for entering the Promised Land. On the surface, a good portion of these discourses can be taken as the words of an angry old man-Moses-who has put up with this stiff-necked people only to be deprived of accompanying them into the Land flowing with milk and honey. In point of fact, the truths Torah teaches are almost never on the surface.
The 18th century Torah scholar Rabbi Simchah Bunem of Prszysucha explains the first verse of Deuteronomy (“These are the words. . .”): “The word that Moses spoke depended on all Israel, to each one according to his or her character and age, his or her understanding and level of perception, each one according to his or her measure.” How could Moses deliver one speech to all Israel? Rabbi Bunem suggests that there exists a significant difference between “speaking” and “hearing.” Moses might have delivered one speech, but it was heard in many different ways. The words were understood according to one’s character, age, experience, and intellect. Moses said what he said, but the people heard what they wanted to hear.
The High Holidays (Rosh Hashanah & Yom Kippur) are an opportunity for the congregational rabbi to reach more congregants at one time in one place than any other time of the year. Therefore, the rabbi invests considerable time in preparing his/her High Holiday sermons. Ideas are formulated, rough drafts written and then re-written, edited and then re-edited until a final well-crafted sermon is in place. The moment arrives, the words are spoken, and the rabbi takes solace in knowing his/her message has been delivered. Then, the service ends. Having “been there and done that”, it never ceases to amaze me how many different interpretations and understandings are given this one speech. Some of my best sermons were successful not for the spoken message I had intended, but for what was actually heard.
Whether it be in a synagogue, classroom, political rally, or a simple conversation, one parses the spoken word in relation to themselves and their concerns. The vibrancy of Judaism lies in its willingness to celebrate different ideas, interpret different meanings, and respect the diversity in humankind. We are all witnesses to the same symphony of words, yet we each in our own way “march to the beat of a different drummer.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
On Vacation posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/02/09 | Rabbi Siegel is on vacation. Weekly Torah postings will return on Friday, July 24, 2009. Until then, please check the archives by clicking on the "Archives" button on the bottom of this page. |
Shelach Lecha posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/19/09 | Torah Portion: Shelach Lecha
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 13:1-15:41
June 19, 2009
“The Lord said to Moses: Send some men to explore the Land of Canaan, which I am giving the Israelites (Numbers 13:1).”
This week’s Torah portion deals with a fact-finding mission to determine the strengths and weaknesses of the Promised Land. Moses assigns twelve leaders-one from each tribe-to scout out the land and report back. The chosen men perform their task and ten of the twelve report that the Promised Land is not so promising! The rest of the Torah portion presents a challenge to Moses’ leadership and the entire mission. There is much to be said, written, and learned from these chapters in the Book of Numbers. On this particular week, I want to focus on one verse (above), and, within the verse, one word: Explore!
This will be the last Torah posting until the first week in August. On Monday, I set out on my annual trip to the land of my youth: the Pacific Northwest. As a youngster, I remember traveling with my mother and grandparents on long road trips on hot summer days to this place or that. I can still hear myself reciting those time-honored words, “Are we there, yet?” The proverbial “apples do not fall far from the trees”. As an adult, I much prefer the “road” trip to flying. Especially the 5-day journey between Houston and Seattle. There are so many different routes one may take. One can choose to travel from Texas to Denver, through the Rockies to Salt Lake City, through Idaho, and across Washington state. Or, go north through Oklahoma, Kansas, Wyoming, and western Montana. Maybe you want to cut through Yellowstone or Glacier National Park. The trip might include the famous Independence Pass in the Rockies leading to Aspen, Colorado or from the Grand Tetons in Wyoming to Sun Valley/Ketchum, Idaho. It’s all there, and more. God’s creations and beauty just waiting to be discovered, explored, pondered and meditated. This cannot be achieved from 40,000 feet up, traveling at speeds in excess of 500 miles per hour. It can barely be accomplished at 60 miles per hour, but at least you have the opportunity to pull over, stop and smell the roses!
For the next few weeks I will travel to different towns & cities, visit old friends (in particular, 4 high school buddies in Whitefish, Montana), spend time with children & grandchildren, and be inspired by the wheat fields and mountains, lakes and oceans, and the people who inhabit these places. Coincidentally, this was the same mission directive given my Moses to the 12 scouts.
In a world determined to go places and do things more quickly, sometimes one needs to slow down. Next week I plan to be standing on a mountain, or swimming in a lake, or taking in an ocean sunset from an island in Puget Sound. What better way to seek inspiration and meaning than through exploration of God’s world. Maybe just once, leave the plane at home and take the car!
Have a restful and fulfilling summer.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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B'ha-alot'kha posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/13/09 | Torah Portion: B’ha-alot’kha
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 8:1-12:16
June 12, 2009
Speaking of “tooting one’s own horn,” chapter 10 of the Book of Numbers begins by stating:
“The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Make for yourself two silver trumpets.”
The Torah goes on to explain that the horns will be sounded to assemble the people, when going to war, and for joyous occasions and holidays. The Eitz Hayim Humash commentary notes, “At God’s command, the trumpets sound and the people assemble in marching formation. The use of the trumpets is Israel’s response to the divine signal of God.”
This really has nothing to do with “tooting one’s own horn;” quite the opposite. The horn is a humanly-created instrument of God. It is sounded not to draw attention to itself or the one sounding it, but to God.
Rabbi Bradley Artson of the American Jewish University writes, “A beautiful trumpet, even in the midst of producing music, doesn’t draw attention to itself. It is the music it produces, not the horn, which people focus on. So too, say the sages, by making ourselves trumpets we focus attention on the God in whose service we delight. Our music is the sacred deeds we perform while still living.”
In keeping with Rabbi Artson’s interpretation, the trumpet becomes a powerful metaphor for life, itself. Life, like the trumpet, is a divine gift God has bestowed upon humankind. It is the Shechina-God’s divine presence-on earth. One exercises the “trumpet of life” by playing it’s divine notes, or mitzvot, the divine score of deeds for a better life and a better world.
The beauty of our notes is exhibited in the way we raise our children, volunteer in our communities, reach out to the needy, the homeless, the disenfranchised. None of this has to do with bringing attention to the individual self, but to the collective body of humanity, all of whom possess the ability to strengthen the orchestra of life by actively participating in it’s symphony.
Rabbi Artson concludes his remarks by writing, “Our goodness is the earthly reflection of God’s divine kindness (hesed). Our performance of mitzvot is our eager gratitude for the gift of life. Our passion for Judaism is our joyous delight in God’s bounty and in the beauty of our heritage. We are the trumpets, but God wrote the score.”
Living life is hardly mundane. It is, in fact, an art form; and a divine one, at that!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Naso posted by Rabbi Siegel on 06/05/09 | Torah Portion: Naso
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 4:21-7:89
June 5, 2009
"The Lord bless you and protect you. The Lord deal kindly and graciously with you.
The Lord bestow His favor upon you and grant you peace."
(Num. 6:24-26)
The above is commonly referred to as the priestly benediction. It has become a centerpiece of prayer for both Jews and Christians. The middle line is of particular interest-"The Lord deal kindly and graciously with you." The message: In spite of our shortcomings we can still hope and pray for God to deal with us kindly and show us grace. It is the word “grace” (“hanun” in Hebrew) that is a source of confusion for many. What is Grace?
For Christians, the concept of Godly Grace has a very different meaning than for Jews. Rabbi Lawrence Hoffman, in the book Christianity In Jewish Terms, writes, “I think we are dealing with two somewhat different modes of spirituality. The Christian doctrine of grace, defined broadly as divine love or favor offered to us even though we do not merit it. It follows that, as sinners, we deserve nothing. If, then we find God reaching out to us anyway, we must be the recipients of God’s grace, and the proper response cannot be anything but gratitude for a gift we do not merit.”
With regard to Jews, Hoffman writes, “Jews also have the notion of grace, namely, God’s covenantal choosing of Israel, first through Abraham and then with the gift of Torah. In its precovenantel state, Israel did not merit Torah. God gave it as an act of grace, in the same way that for Christians God sent Jesus. But once Torah has been given, Jews enter into a covenant with God.”
In both Christian and Jewish belief, Grace was a gift from God given regardless of merit. For Jews, God’s Grace is the gift of Torah, for Christians it is the gift of Jesus. Christianity further developed the sense of human inadequacy or lack of merit even after Jesus. The sinful nature of humankind became a foundation piece in Christian belief and showing gratitude for God’s kindness toward sinners the mainstay in their liturgy. Rabbi Hoffman notes, “. . For Judaism, the gift of Torah provided the potential for becoming worthy, a state that had been impossible when there were no commandments to perform.” Jewish liturgy is built on the bracha (blessing). Jewish worship is less gratitude to God, then praise for God. Jews praise God for the opportunity (through Torah) to better themselves and those around them.
Understanding God’s gift of Grace is understanding the unique theological differences between Christianity and Judaism. Ultimately, the Divine light of truth gives off more than one ray!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Bemidbar posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/22/09 | Torah Portion: Bemidbar
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 1:1-4:20
May 22, 2009
Bemidbar is the beginning of the 4th book of the Torah (Numbers). It opens with the report that “the Lord spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai ( Num. 1:1).” After spending an entire year at Mt. Sinai, the Israelites are finally preparing to continue a journey that will take another 38 years!
Most of the lives of those who departed Egypt was spent “in a wilderness.” The aspirations of the Israelites were far greater than the reality they encountered. The result? Countless complaints about not enough food or water, poor leadership, etc. They expected the Garden of Eden; instead they found a “wilderness”.
What is it that elevates a “wilderness” to such a prominent position in Jewish history? According to the Midrash Bemidbar Rabbah (one of the oldest rabbinic books of Torah legend), the ancient rabbis inferred “that the Torah was given to the accompaniment of three things: fire, water, and wilderness. . . . Why was the giving of the Torah marked by these three features? To indicate that as these are free to all humankind, so also are the words of the Torah free [to all humankind].
Rabbi Bradley Artson suggests this Midrash comes to “warn Jews not to mistake this gift as exclusively ours, that the possession of Torah does not make us more worthwhile, more valuable or better than others. To the contrary, our tradition views our relationship with God as distinct not because it confers special privileges, but because it bestows additional responsibilities; responsibilities to all humankind.”
Why, then, does this all take place in a “wilderness”? The Midrash continues by stating, “Anyone who does not throw himself open to all like a “wilderness” cannot acquire wisdom and Torah.” The wilderness is a real-life metaphor for the accessibility of God, not just to Jews but to all people.
It took 40 years of wandering for the Israelites to discover themselves as a people, and it took 40 years of wilderness for this people to discover their responsibility to all humankind!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Emor posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/08/09 | Torah Portion: Emor
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 21-24
May 8, 2009
A Friday evening Shabbat meal tradition is the presence of two loaves of Challah (braided-bread) on the dinner table. The origin of this custom is found in this Torah portion where it states: “You shall take choice flour and bake of it twelve loaves. . . Place them on the pure table before the Lord in two rows, six to a row.” (Lev. 24:5-6) Since the destruction of the 2nd Temple in 70 c.e., we have modified the ritual by including only two loaves of Challah on the table-each representing one of the six-loaf rows present in the ancient Temple.
The Babylonian Talmud states, “a great miracle was performed in the Tent of Meeting; the sacred loaves of bread never grew stale.” The contemporary Torah scholar Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch understood the Talmud’s interpretation in figurative rather than literal terms. He said the message the rabbis were conveying was the idea that the ancient Temple was immune to the process of boredom and habit that affect so many religious institutions. Their rituals never grew stale!
Today a growing number of Jews are displaying their displeasure with the boring routine and spiritless worship of the institutional synagogue by voting with their feet. Several decades ago, the late Professor Abraham Joshua Heschel described non-Orthodox synagogues as places where “prayers lie still-born on the lips” of worshippers. While serving a congregation in Minneapolis, I invited former Vice-President Walter Mondale to speak during a Shabbat morning service. As the son of a preacher, he was accustomed to arrive prior to the beginning of a religious service, which he did. The service began at 9:30 am, concluding at 12:15 pm. As we reached the final hymn of Adon Olam, Vice-President Mondale leaned over to me saying, “You know, both my wife and I are preachers kids. We have both attended a lot of church services, but I have never been at one this long!”
Every rabbi, priest, minister, or lay leader needs to realize that people are only able to take so much good at one time and then the law of diminishing returns sets in. Sometimes doing less is more. Though, it is not the length of the service that makes for a spiritually-fulfilling experience, but the content contained therein. Peoples souls are touched in different ways, individually and communally. The ancient rabbis understood this. When asked, “what should the practice be with regard to this or that matter?”, the rabbis responded “Puk v’Hasi”- Go out and see what the people are doing. This was good advice then, and remains so today. Religious leaders need to seek direction by first focusing attention on the current needs, concerns, and desires of their congregants. Don’t let the “loaves of Challah” go stale!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Aharei Mot-Kedoshim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 05/01/09 | Torah Portion: Aharei Mot-Kedoshim
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 16:1-20:27
May 2, 2009
The Book of Leviticus, chapter 19:2 states, “You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy.” As a kid, the last thing I wanted to be called was “holy.” That meant I spent too much time in the synagogue, recited too many prayers, and participated in too many strange rituals. It also suggested I did not know how to have fun!
At a later stage in life I learned that holiness was the reason for Jewish choseness. The Jewish people were holier than others. As I intellectually matured I began to understand Jews were not “chosen” because they were holy, but were chosen to be holy. The Eitz Hayim Chumash writes, “To be holy is to rise to partake in some measure of the special qualities of God, the source of holiness. Holiness is the highest level of human behavior, human beings at their most.” Those who sought to emulate the moral/ethical qualities of God, in fact raised themselves above the rest of us. One is not “chosen” because they are Jewish, but because he/she chose to seek a higher ethical standard of living.
This all made sense until I recently reviewed the teachings of the 20th century Jewish religious existentialist, Martin Buber. Buber took issue with the notion of anyone being superior to anyone else, either because of birth status or perceived level of spiritual achievement. Buber would argue that God did not create communities, but individuals. As creations of God, we stand as equals. All of humanity is “fashioned in the image of God.” Holiness, therefore, is not the dominion of an elite few, but the possession of the masses. For Martin Buber, holiness is found in relationship. It is discovered when we learn to recognize the divinity of God present in the other person.
There is a common practice that occurs in churches and synagogues-shaking hands. The only difference is when it occurs. At the end of the Sabbath service, it is customary for Jews to greet one another with a “Shabbat Shalom.” We are not instructed to do it, we just do it. . . . Sometimes. . . And with some people, and then we depart. Many churches incorporate a greeting of peace into their religious service. In the midst of prayer, the pastor or priest will instruct the congregation to extend one another a greeting of peace. The service will stop and those present will walk up to friends and strangers with a smile, a handshake, and words of greeting. Encountering this practice for the first time, I felt self-conscious and a bit out of place. The discomfort lasted only a couple of seconds until someone grasped my hand, smiled and conveyed greetings. Then, I did the same. With each new person I encountered I felt more comfortable and began to see this as more than a simple handshake, but an embrace of our common humanity; recognition of our innate Godliness.
To achieve holiness is to see holiness in our friends and even our enemies. We are all fashioned “in the image of God.” We just need to open our eyes.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Yom Ha'Shoah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/24/09 | Yom Ha’Shoah/Holocaust Remembrance Day
April 24, 2009
This past Tuesday was the annual commemoration of “Yom Ha’Shoah”-Holocaust Remembrance Day. Over 60 years have passed since the liberation of the Concentration Camps and destruction of the German Nazi regime. Memories are fleeting. Even after the last Holocaust survivor has died, the world will have to continue commemorating Yom Ha’Shoah. Not doing so will guarantee its happening, again. Today, even with the benefit of survivors, eyewitnesses, film, photographs, and a meticulously-written record, there are still those who publicly deny or question there having been a Holocaust. More troubling are the growing number of people who believe them.
Why the Jews? The list of notable anti-Semites (e.g. Voltaire, Wagner, Martin Luther to name a few) could fill the pages of an entire book. There will always be a group of ignorant, uneducated people who hate, in spite. But, when they are joined by intellectuals, scientists, poets, and enlightened theologians, we have reason for concern.
Professor Michael Curtis of Rutgers University offers the following insight: “Everybody has a people that they hate, a group you don’t like, that are threatening to you. But the uniqueness of anti-Semitism lies in the fact that no other people in the world have been charged simultaneously with alienation from society and with cosmopolitanism; with being capitalist exploiters and also revolutionary communists; with having a materialistic mentality or being a people of the book. We are accused of being both militant aggressors and cowardly pacifists; adherents to a superstitious religion and agents of modernism. We uphold a rigid law and are also morally decadent. We have a chosen people mentality and an inferior human nature; we are both arrogant and timid; individualist and communally adherent; we are guilty of both the crucifixion of Jesus to Christians and to others we are held to account for the invention of Christianity. Everything and its opposite becomes an explanation for anti-Semitism.”
It is so difficult to fathom how a people who-in modern times alone-have given the world the likes of Sarah Bernhardt, Louis Brandeis, Jonas Salk, Martin Buber, Albert Einstein, Sigmund Freud, the Marx Brothers, Golda Meir, George Gershwin, Franz Kafka, Emma Lazarus, and Gertrude Stein, could be referred to as a “gutter religion” and condemned to annihilation. I just do not understand. What I do understand is the Jewish people, in spite of misfortune, continue to follow a path dictated by Torah, legislated by the ancient rabbis, and passed down from generation to generation. We continue to work for what we know can be achieved-a better world free of hate and bigotry. Anne Frank, in her famous diary, summed it up when she wrote, “I still believe that people are really good at heart.” Not only do I believe this, but I will effort to make it so.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Shemini posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/17/09 | Torah Portion: Shemini
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 9:1-11:47
April 17, 2009
How does one explain an observant Jew’s obsession with the food they eat? This portion of Torah enunciates the distinction between the living creatures that may be eaten and those that are forbidden. “These are the creatures that you may eat from among all the land animals: any animal that has a split hoof and chews its cud-such you may eat (Lev. 11: 2-3).” The Torah goes on to state, “These you may eat of all that live in water: anything in water, whether in the seas or in the streams, that has fins and scales-these you may eat (Lev. 11:9).”
The obsession is not with the eating of food, but the striving for holiness. All the great religions wrestle with the question of “How to become holy?” Some religious traditions answer by having the right feeling or the right belief. Judaism does not disagree with the importance of feelings and beliefs, but that is not where holiness begins. The roots of Holiness are in the action, not the word.
The late Rabbi Samuel Dresner wrote an outstanding introduction to the practice of Kashrut in our day. In his essay he writes, “Judaism would argue that it is precisely with these seeming trivialities, the habitual and apparently inconsequential, that we must commence in order to create the holy person. And what is more common, more ordinary, more seemingly inconsequential than the process of eating? It is precisely here that Judaism would have us begin the task of hallowing the everyday. For how we approach food may be more significant than reflecting on dogma. . . . More important than what one thinks, Judaism teaches, is what one does.”
The simple act of eating a piece of meat requires a Jew to demonstrate a reverence for life, a distain for cruelty to animals, and a respect for all God’s creations. Dresner concludes his essay by stating, “Philosophy and diet, thought and practice, inner attitude and outward observance-this combination has characterized Judaism since earliest times. It is the very essence of the Jewish religion.”
Curbing one’s appetite, disciplining one’s cravings, regimenting one’s most instinctive response are not actions of self-denial but statements of holiness. If we can learn to dignify and sanctify the food that goes in our mouth, how much more so the words and actions that come out?
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Passover posted by Rabbi Siegel on 04/03/09 | Passover
April 3, 2009
The holiday of Passover begins Wednesday evening, April 8, 2009, with the first of two evening Seders. The popularity of Passover among Jews (Hanukkah is the only holiday celebrated by more Jews) is due, in part, to the fact the central location for the celebration is the home. What also makes Passover unique among Jewish celebrations is learning trumps food in the home Seder observance. Still, for many, remembering the tyranny of slavery in Egypt takes a back seat to the tyranny of the Haggadah. For the less well-informed, following the Haggadah from page to page can be a torturous experience!
In the hope of making your Seder more inspirational and educational, I offer the following suggestions to enhance the celebration:
1. Rock & Lotion-The leader begins the “Maggid” (story) section of the Seder by first passing around pieces of rock (symbolizing “Avdut”/slavery) and then packets of hand lotion (symbolizing “Herut”/freedom).
2. The Fifth Question-Are there only 4 questions? Participants are asked to think of a “fifth” question they might ask and the other guests are asked to try to answer it.
3. Beet Instead of Bone-Vegetarians commonly use a roasted beet on the Seder plate in the place of the shank bone.
4. The Afikomen Gifts-Why not take a few moments and purchase some interesting items from the local $ store.
5. Parting the Red Sea-At the appropriate time in the Seder two guests each hold a blue sheet up and the other participants (especially kids, but everyone should join in) pass between the sheets. This can be done at the point in the Seder when the phrase, “We should all see ourselves as if we personally left Egypt” is said.
6. Crossing The Red Sea-Place a small red bowl of water on the floor and ask all present to “cross over” the bowl symbolizing the departure from Egypt.
7. The Persian Scallion Battle-Each person beats another with a green scallion (on the back) during the recitation of “Dayeinu.” This Persian tradition was done to remind us of slavery.
8. Building Pyramids-This is a great activity for toddlers. While the Seder is going on, give them Legos and challenge them to build pyramids as the Israelites did in Egypt.
9. The Cup of Elijah-Leave the cup of Elijah empty until the end of the Seder and then ask each participant to contribute a small portion of their wine to fill the cup. This reminds us that if the Messiah is to come, we must all work together to bring about this day.
10. The Freedom Plate-A Plate is set-aside at the beginning of the “Maggid” (story) section. Participants are asked to place an object on the plate that symbolizes their personal liberation. People are then asked to explain the meaning of their object.
11. Miriam’s Cup-Some place a 2nd cup on the Seder plate filled with water. This cup is designated as “Miriam’s Cup” and reminds us of the important contribution Miriam and the women made to the liberation from Egypt (and today!). In contrast, the Cup of Elijah is the hope for redemption at the end of time, while the Cup of Miriam is a hope for redemption in our present lives.
12. Playing Cards At The Table- Each person at the Seder is given three cards: an “Ask A Question” card; a “Share A Passover Memory” card, and a “Lead a Reading or Song” card (each in a different color). During the Seder, each person is encouraged to use each of the cards and then hand the card to the leader. When someone has handed in the third card, we all cheer. How do we make sure everyone uses his or her cards? Simple: dessert is served only to those people who have no cards left!
Any of these 12 suggestions can make for a livelier, and more meaningful, Passover Seder. Try them. . . . And have a Happy Passover!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Vayikra posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/27/09 | Torah Portion: Vayikra
Book of Leviticus
Chaps. 1:1-5:26
March 27, 2009
A contemporary Torah commentator writes, “Leviticus is a difficult book for a modern person to read with reverence and appreciation. Its main subject matter-animal offerings and ritual impurity-seems remote from contemporary concerns.” So true!
There are two terms popularly used in describing the levitical rituals: offering & sacrifice. Similarly, in Hebrew there are also two expressions: Zevach & Kor’ban. What is the difference between an “offering” and a “sacrifice”? In modern terms, an offering is usually associated with charitable giving. It is something nice to do. A sacrifice is also an act of charitable giving, but at a recognizable cost to the giver.
The Hebrew word “Kor’ban” literally means, “to bring near.” The animal sacrifice brought by the ancient Jew was for the purpose of bringing himself nearer to God. What made the sacrifice worthwhile was the relationship, the closeness, formed between the ancient Israelite and God. In many ways, the sacrificial cult was a metaphor for the ultimate importance of relationships with family and friends; all who are fashioned “in the image of God.”
For the contemporary person, the word “sacrifice” is a common presence in many conversations. “Look what I have to sacrifice to make this happen,” “I am sacrificing my time on behalf of this cause,” etc. A colleague, Rabbi Aaron Rubinger, writes, “But the critical issue is: what are those sacrifices? Are they appropriate sacrifices? You see, so many people, for the sake of providing their family with more, will sacrifice what? Their time with their loved ones! They'll sacrifice the hours that they spend at home with their kids, or the opportunities of having dinner with their family, all for the sake of more stuff! The book of Leviticus, with its great emphasis on bringing the proper sacrifice, I think would suggest to us that that is absolutely backwards!”
Herein lies the lesson of the Book of Leviticus: Make your sacrifices proper sacrifices. The ancients did not sacrifice God, they sacrificed to God. Their sacrifices were for the sake of creating, enhancing, and savoring a loving relationship. So, too, in our time. Personal sacrifice should be measured against the quality of the time we spend with those whom we love. Sacrificing a few hours of work to spend with family and friends always trumps sacrificing family and friends for work.
Finally, the revolutionary difference between the sacrificial cult of the ancient Israelites and the other Near Eastern religions was human sacrifice. The Israelites forbade it. Sacrificing a human being was considered Hilul Ha’Shem-a profanation of God. In our day, one who makes “things” more important than “people”, is in fact practicing human sacrifice and profaning God’s presence.
My uncle used to say, “You can break material objects and replace them. Losing a friend is irreplaceable.” Who says the Book of Leviticus cannot be read with “reverence and appreciation”!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Vayakhel/Pekudai posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/20/09 | Torah Portion: Vayakhel/Pekudai
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 35:1-40:38
March 20, 2009
One can possess every possible academic degree, experience every possible situation, have bestowed upon him/her the honorific title of “expert”, and still not be capable of providing the necessary leadership to handle a nation in crisis. An effective leader must not only be knowledgeable of the “facts on the ground,” but able to transcend and empathize with the pain in the hearts of those whom he/she leads.
Just last week Moses was confronted by a people whose faith in him and God was so weak that they turned to an idol (“Golden Calf”) for security. After having just experienced God’s theophany on Mt. Sinai, having been told “you shall have no graven image before me,” they fall back on their former pagan beliefs. At this point, the entire future of the Israelite nation-and the Jewish people-rested upon Moses’ response to crisis. He could not be faulted for giving up on this “stiff-necked people”, but he did not. He could not be blamed for lashing out at their lack of faith despite the efforts expended to procure their freedom, but he did not. What Moses does is, “convoke the whole Israelite community” (Exo. 35:1). He does not forget the past events, but he presents them with challenges for the future. He tells them how they, together, will build a sanctuary to God both physically and spiritually. Physically, they will construct a portable place of worship in the desert. Spiritually, they will set aside one complete day each week (the Shabbat) to build for God a sanctuary of holiness in time. Moses has gathered the people together not to scold, but to inspire. In a moment of crisis, he appeals to their pride in one another to realize, in the words of the late Mordechai Kaplan, “Every Jew depends on fellow Jews for the energy, resources, and courage wherewith to be a Jew.” This is the example of good, visionary leadership.
The “Golden Calf” incident was not to be forgotten, nor were the issues arising from transforming slaves into a free people. Moses first goal was to create a people with a cohesive, positive, and forward-looking attitude. Achieving this set the tone for solving existing problems.
The Torah is not so ancient that we cannot learn from it today. Each day the media reminds us of our economic despair. Many refer to it as a Recession. Undoubtedly, those who have lost jobs see this as a Depression. In the absence of a positive vision, it is natural to cast blame rather than seek solution. The current fixation is on the executives of AIG who received bonuses even after contributing to the economic downturn. The next step is to blame government for letting all this happen. Through all this blame and insinuation a pall of doubt is cast on the leadership of the new administration. Last night, the President of the United States appeared on the “Tonight Show” with Jay Leno. He became the first sitting president to appear on late night TV. The President understood that he needed to take his message to the people. He attracted a far different (and more varied) viewing audience on the “Tonight Show” than he would speaking from the White House. His message was not one of recrimination, but determination. His goal, like that of Moses thousands of years ago, was to infuse in the American people a spirit of hope and a willingness to work with him in meeting the difficult challenges ahead. Regardless of his intellectual qualities, the President’s ability to empathize with the people, transcend their fears, and lift them up, are qualities of effective leadership. A speech or TV appearance is not going to solve the issues of the day, but it can galvanize a spirit of unity and cooperation. As Moses proved, working together in concert with a common faith and trust, even if it takes 40 years of wandering, we CAN overcome!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Ki Tissa posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/13/09 | Torah Portion: Ki Tissa
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 32:1-34:35
March 13, 2009
Michael Walzer, in his book Exodus and Revolution, suggests that Moses is the prototypical revolutionary leader and the exodus from Egypt is a political document. A successful revolution does not conclude with a military victory, a coup, or for that matter “crossing the Red Sea.” It is what comes next that makes the difference.
The seminal moment in the formation of the United States was not the Revolutionary War victory, but the acceptance of a Constitution. For the Israelites, it was not crossing the Red Sea, but accepting the Torah on Mt. Sinai. In both instances a road map for freedom and independence was accepted by a fledgling population. The actual realization of the ideas, and acceptance of the obligations contained within these documents, would take generations to fully appreciate. The United States had to fight a Civil War before being able to appreciate the moral/ethical strength of the Constitution. The Israelites had to build an idol at the foot of Sinai before realizing the spiritual strengths of Torah.
Today’s Torah portion contains the famous account of the “Golden Calf.” Having not yet returned from Mt. Sinai, the Israelites fear that there leader, Moses, has abandoned them in the desert. They know of Torah, and they know of the One God, but their primal fears cause them to fall back on a more familiar source of security-an idol. Moses returns to the people with the tablets of God in hand, sees them worshipping a Golden Calf, and breaks the tablets.
As disappointing as it must have been for Moses to witness the Israelites continued lack of faith in their new-found freedom, why does he compound this by destroying the very reason they left Egypt? A modern commentary, entitled “Meshekh Hokhmah”, responds to this question : “There is nothing intrinsically holy in the world save God, to whom alone reverence, praise and homage is due. The Holy comes into being in response to specific Divine commandments, as for example those calling on us to build God a house of worship. Now we may understand why Moses on perceiving the physical and mental state of the people promptly broke the Tablets. He feared they would deify them as they had done the calf. Had he brought them the Tablets intact, they would have substituted them for the calf and not reformed their ways. But now that he had broken the Tablets, they realized how far they had fallen short of true faith. . . . . and by this, Moses had demonstrated that the Tablets of God, themselves, possessed no intrinsic holiness.”
Professor Abraham Joshua Heschel follows up on this theme by noting, “Judaism teaches us to be attached to holiness in time [not space], to be attached to sacred events [not things], to learn how to consecrate sanctuaries that emerge from the magnificent stream of a year. The Sabbaths are our great cathedrals!”
Nahum Sarna noted that the ancient place of worship, or even today’s synagogue, “enshrines the concept of the holiness of space; the Sabbath embodies the concept of the holiness of time. The latter always takes precedence over the former.” It is not mere coincidence that the section of Torah immediately preceding the story of the Golden Calf implores the ancient Israelites to observe the Sabbath (Exo. 31:13-18). It is a statement of the importance of seeking holiness in time. The point is driven home when Moses breaks the tablets demonstrating their spiritual emptiness unless, and until, the Israelites are willing to fill them with a holiness discovered in the sanctity of time. This is a discovery that would take time, patience, and forty years of wandering. How far along the road of discovery are you?
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Purim 5769 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 03/06/09 | Purim 5769/2009
March 6, 2009
The holiday of Purim-celebrated this year on Monday evening, March 9-Tuesday, March 10-can not come soon enough! Based on the Book of Esther, a tale dating back to the 6th century BCE, Purim is a day of pure, unadulterated fun & celebration-regardless of the state of the economy!
While there is a serious side to the Book of Esther, it is more like a good Marvel comic with bigger than life heroes and villains. There is the amoral King, the Darth Vadar-type villain, the voluptuous heroine, the handsome (?) hero and, of course, the ever present life-or-death struggle between good & evil. Everyone needs at least one day when they can “blow off steam” and take life a bit less seriously. For Jews, that day is Purim. If it didn’t already exist, we’d have to invent it!
Most Jews think of Purim as a “children’s festival.” After all, it is customary to wear costumes and shake noisemakers every time evil Haman’s name is read from the Book of Esther. On the other hand, too many adults have forgotten the joys of childhood that once allowed us to laugh and smile even in the face of adversity. Purim is a return to those days of innocence, to a time of ideals and goodness and hope. Maybe, just maybe, the craziness of the day might re-instill the too long absent attributes of youth. With this in mind, I share some “Purim” Torah sent to me by a good friend:
At the Russian Military Academy, a top General gave a lecture on 'Potential Problems and Military Strategy'.
At the end of the lecture he asked if there are any questions. An officer stood up and asked: 'Will there be a third world war? Will Russia take part in it?' The General answered both questions in the affirmative.
Another officer asked: 'Who will be the enemy? The General: 'All indications point to China.'
All the audience is shocked.
The officer asks: 'General, we are only 150 million, there are 5 Billion Chinese. Can we win at all?' The General: 'Just think about this. In modern warfare, it is not the quantity that matters but the quality. For example, in the Middle East
we have had a few wars recently where 5 million Jews fought against 50 million Arabs, and Israel was always victorious.'
After a small pause the smartest officer asked, 'Do we have enough Jews?'
Have a happy Purim!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
|
Terumah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/27/09 | Torah Portion: Terumah
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 25:1-27:19
February 27, 2009
After the excitement of leaving Egypt, crossing the Red Sea, and witnessing God’s revelation on Mt. Sinai, the ancient Israelites are faced with reality: It is time to build a new life. The first project is the construction of a portable place of worship in the desert. Like all good religious building projects, success, in no small part, is dependent on the financial support of the adherents. With regard to the portable sanctuary (Mishkan/Tabernacle), “The Lord spoke to Moses saying: Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him.” (Exo. 25:1-2)
Not every member of the community was obligated to give to the building of a structure that would be used by the entire community; only those “whose heart” moved them. The portable sanctuary represented God’s presence among the people. It had to be funded by people who reflected God’s values. The actions of these “special” people would not only construct a sanctuary, but serve as an example for others.
This week we were introduced to one such “Holy Exemplar”. Near the conclusion of President Obama’s speech to Congress on Tuesday evening, the President introduced the audience to Leonard Abess, CEO of City National Bank of Florida. He recently sold his bank, City National, for nearly $1 billion. It was privately held, in his name. No stock. He cashed out of his company, took a $60 million bonus, “and gave it out to all 399 people who worked for him, plus another 72 who used to work for him. He didn't tell anyone, but when the local newspaper found out, he simply said, ''I knew some of these people since I was 7 years old. I didn't feel right getting the money myself."
While speaking with colleagues from Florida, I learned that Mr. Abess is an active member and philanthropist in his Jewish community. One colleague reported that in the 80’s his congregation was unable to pay a construction loan and was desperately seeking a mortgage. Leonard Abess personally worked with the congregation and his bank to give them a deal they otherwise would not have been able to secure. Leonard, himself, belonged to another synagogue in the area.
Just having the means to make a difference is nothing without the “heart" felt desire to do so. The present economy is a test to the mettle of the American people. It is not a question of whether or not we’ll survive; we will. The question is “how”? Will we continue to look for someone on whom to place the blame or channel our energies toward finding a solution? In seeking a solution, can we willingly make the necessary sacrifices to help the few for the sake of the many, or selfishly blame others for their own personal financial misfortunes? Can we become the “Holy Exemplars” for our children, grandchildren, friends, and community?
President Obama introduced Leonard Abess, and other similar exemplars, by stating, “. . in my life, I have learned that hope is found in unlikely places; that inspiration often comes not from those with the most power or celebrity, but from the dreams and aspirations of Americans who are anything but ordinary.” This reference is to the same people God refers to in Exodus, those “whose heart so move them!”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
|
Mishpatim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/20/09 | Torah Portion: Mishpatim
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 21:1-24:18
February 20, 2009
For the Jew, the literal word is not the final word in understanding Torah. The Judaism we celebrate today is largely the product of the ancient rabbis of the first centuries CE. In transforming Judaism from a biblical to a modern tradition, they introduced a method for making Torah relevant to generations present and future. Their methodology of Torah study can be simplified into four levels:
P’shat-first understand the “literal meaning” of the verse
Remez-then, look for the interpretative meaning
Drash-discover the homiletical/moral lesson learned from this verse
Sod-pursue the hidden, mystical meaning
By means of these four levels of understanding, the ancient rabbis empowered every generation with the authority to interpret the meaning of Torah in their times. They also made clear that the Torah is a God-inspired document. As mere mortals, we cannot hope to completely understand the reasoning or moral underpinning of every verse (thus, the notion of Sod/hidden meaning).
This week’s Torah portion contains two good examples of rabbinic method. The famous principle of lex talionis/retaliation is stated in Exo. 21:24-25, “. . Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, hand for a hand, foot for a foot, burn for a burn, wound for a wound, bruise for a bruise.” There is no doubt in the context of biblical times these verses were meant to be understood literally. Their origin is attributed to King Hamurabi of Babylonia in the 18th century BCE. However, later rabbinic literature never understood it this way. The Talmud understands "an eye for an eye" as meaning that someone who damage's an eye must pay the value of that eye. An eye's worth for an eye. The Remez (interpretive meaning) and Drash (moral lesson) become as important as the P’shat (literal meaning) in understanding this portion of Torah.
Another example is Exo. 22:17, where it is written “You shall not let a sorceress (witch) live.” This verse, understood literally, became the basis for executing innocent women in 17th century Salem Massachusetts. However, already by the 2nd century CE the ancient rabbis understood this verse to mean “you shall not provide a witch with a livelihood.” Today, the Wiccan religion-the modern religious practice of witchcraft-bears no semblance to the ancient taboos addressed by the Torah. This verse requires a re-interpretation and understanding in our own day.
By placing Torah at the center of Jewish practice, the Jew is recognizing the centrality of God’s presence and the never-ending evolution of God’s word.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Yitro posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/13/09 | Torah Portion: Yitro
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 18:1-20:23
February 13, 2009
What are they, the “Ten Commandments”, “Ten Statements”, or “Decalogue”? The Torah does not specify a name for the most famous verses in Bible. The beginning of Chapter 20 of Exodus simply says, “God spoke these (devarim) words, saying. .” Someone mistakenly translated the Hebrew “Aseret Devarim” as “Ten Commandments.” A commandment in Hebrew is “Mitzvah”. In fact, the term “commandment” is not used in the context of this section. The Jewish scholars of ancient Alexandria in Egypt (who authored the Septuagint-Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible) referred to this section in Greek as the Deca Logoi. This gave rise to the more accurate English title of “Decalogue.” The ancient rabbis of the early centuries of the common era referred to this passage as the “Aseret Ha’dibrot”-Ten Statements. Regardless of title, their moral/ethical importance is undeniable.
Since this teaching is being offered on the eve of the Sabbath, let’s take a closer look at the 4th commandment (or statement): “Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath of the Lord your God: you shall not do any work. .” (Exo. 20:8-10). Jews have understood these words to imply that normal labors of the week cease on the seventh day. The Eitz Hayim Humash notes, “by proscribing work and creativity on the seventh day, and by ordering that nature be kept inviolate one day a week, the Torah places a limit on human autonomy and restores nature to its original state of pure freedom.” Freedom is strengthened by “legislating the inalienable right of every human being” to a day off once a week!
Some Torah scholars challenged the above interpretation. It is written “Six days shall you labor and do all your WORK.” If one loves what they are doing, is it still considered “labor” and “work”? Perhaps these words are meant for those who must labor at jobs they don’t like. All work, with the exception of efforts involved in saving lives, is prohibited on the Sabbath. “Work too often leads to economic competitiveness in which we see other people as rivals, obstacles to our success. Shabbat comes as a truce in those economic struggles.”
Abraham Joshua Heschel, in his book The Sabbath writes, “Six days a week we wrestle with the world, wringing profit from the earth; on the Sabbath we especially care for the seed of eternity planted in the soul. The world has our hands, but our soul belongs to Someone Else. Six days a week we seek to dominate the world; on the seventh day we try to dominate the self.”
Shabbat Shalom-may we all enjoy a Sabbath of peace!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
B'Shalach posted by Rabbi Siegel on 02/06/09 | Torah Portion: B’Shalach
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 13:17-17:16
February 6, 2009
This portion of Torah marks the departure of the Israelites from Egypt. The reality of their freedom does not settle in until they miraculously cross the Red Sea ahead of the Egyptian army. Then, amidst great exaltation, Moses breaks into song, “The Lord is my strength and might; He is become my deliverance. This is my God and I will enshrine Him.” (Exo. 15:2). As Moses completes his song, his sister Miriam takes up a timbrel and leads the women in dance and song declaring, “Sing to the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously” (Exo. 15:21). Indeed, “from every mountainside let freedom ring!”
Being told one’s free and exercising one’s freedom are two different matters. No sooner had the Israelites celebration of freedom from Egypt calmed down, then the complaints began: “If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots, when we ate our fill of bread! For you have brought us out into this wilderness to starve this whole congregation to death” (Exo. 16:3). It took the ancient Israelites 40 years of wandering in the desert to understand that with freedom comes responsibility to oneself, one’s family, and one’s community. While most reasonable people would eschew slavery as immoral, it can be easier and more comfortable than freedom. If one is willing to accept occasional beatings and degradation, in return for their work they are fed, housed, and cared for. On the other hand, freedom requires the individual to take personal responsibility for his/her life. It is no wonder the ancient Israelites had such difficulty accommodating themselves to their new reality. They had spent several generations as wards of the state. The Israelites path to freedom can be summed up in the words of the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche who wrote, “How is freedom measured in individuals as in nations? By the resistance that has to be overcome.”
It is one thing to declare a mission to bring freedom and democracy to nations suffering under the rule of dictatorship or corrupt government, it quite another task to accomplish it. As Franklin Roosevelt stated in 1936, “In the truest sense freedom cannot be bestowed; it must be achieved.” It is the result of years of patient learning and practice that a nation or individual is able to declare themselves truly free.
I opposed going to war with Iraq. Many knew then what the US government only learned later: Deposing Sadaam Hussein would result in immediate celebration but, by itself, would not create a free democratic Iraq. I now counsel patience. As it took the Israelites 40 years to adapt to the inherent responsibilities of being a free people, it will take the Iraqis at least a generation to find a path of accommodation for their religious needs and political desires. These tensions, sixty years later, are still a matter of concern even for the State of Israel.
Being a servant for others is easier than being the master of one’s destiny, but it is lacking in the exercise of the human spirit: to challenge and to grow. In conclusion, the French author and philosopher Albert Camus profoundly observed that “freedom is not a gift received from a State or a leader but a possession to be won every day by the effort of each and the union of all.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
|
Va'era posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/23/09 | Torah Portion: Va’era
Book of Exodus
Chaps. 6:2-9:35
January 23, 2009
The fear of aging has supplanted the fear of death as the greatest concern of modern-day society. As the baby boomer generation becomes increasingly more grey, the emphasis on “looking young” becomes even more important. Take a look at recent covers of the magazine “Modern Maturity” (published by the American Association of Retired People). It features a sexy photo of Susan Sarandon, Jamie Lee Curtis, or some other icon of beauty who is over 50. The message: You can get old and maintain your good looks!
This Torah portion contains an important insight into aging. Exo. 7:7 reads, "And Moshe was 80 years old, and Aaron 83, when they spoke to Pharaoh." Why does the narrative digress from the high drama, confrontations, plagues and diplomatic maneuverings, to mention the ages of Aaron and Moshe?
The 12th century scholar, Avraham Ibn Ezra, offers an answer: "In all of Scripture, we find no other prophets recorded as having prophesied in their old age, save these two. Because their eminence is far above all the other prophets."
Ibn Ezra points out that Moshe and Aaron supply the core of Jewish revelation; other prophets only remind us of their essential teachings. And they were open to receiving and transmitting these revolutionary religious ideas at the ages of 80 and 83! No wonder the Mishnah teaching in Pirke Avot/ “Ethics of our Ancestors” declares, “80 is the age of greatness!”
Rabbi Shamai Kanter writes, “Not only does advancing age bring wisdom derived from experience. It can also be a time of creativity and growth. You probably remember some of these facts: that Wolfgang Von Goethe wrote his poetic masterpiece, Faust, at 80; that Henrietta Szold founded Hadassah at 60, and founded Youth Aliyah at 70.
But did you know that the great cellist, Pablo Casals, at age 90, continued to practice for six hours a day? When people asked him why, he replied, "Because I am still improving!"
The author of Psalm 92 said it more succinctly: "They shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Planted in the house of the Lord, they shall flourish. . . even in old age they will be fruitful, filled with vigor and strength."
The final words belong to the late General Douglas Macarthur who said, “You are as young as your faith. You are as old as your doubt. You are as young as your hope, as old as your despair. In the central place in your heart there is a recording chamber, and as long as it receives the message of beauty, hope, cheer and courage, so long are you young."
Do the “50’s” have to be the new “30’s” to make one feel worthy and able? I take issue with George Bernard Shaw who said, “Youth is wasted on the young.” In fact, youth is a state of mind not determined by the look of one’s hands, but the deeds they continue to produce.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Vayehi posted by Rabbi Siegel on 01/02/09 | Torah Portion: Vayehi
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 47:28-50:26
January 2, 2009
Death is probably not the most timely subject to begin a new year. However, the final portion of the Book of Genesis details the death of Jacob and later his son, Joseph. Of special interest are the burial customs of their times.
In preparation for Jacob’s burial, Joseph “ordered the physicians in his service to embalm his father, and the physicians embalmed [Jacob].” (Gen. 50:2)
The fact there is no protest of Joseph’s decision to embalm his father suggests that it was probably the custom among not just the Egyptians but most of the ancient near eastern tribes. Jewish burial and mourning customs have evolved since biblical times. Normative Jewish practice over the past 2,000 years has forbade the embalming of the dead except where required by law for purposes of transporting the body for burial. One might argue this was the case even in Jacob’s time. Embalming prevents the decay of the body and Joseph wished to return Jacob to his homeland in Canaan for burial. Still, there are several reasons why Jews do not embalm.
First, embalming delays burial. Jewish tradition encourages immediate burial of the dead. This was probably done in ancient times to protect the health of the community, while some commentators trace the practice to the verse in Genesis 3:19- “Dust you are and to dust you shall return.”
Second, embalming prevents the natural decay of the body and is actually a desecration of the body. The body is a gift on loan that God has provided to protect the sanctity of the soul. As with any item on loan, one does not have the right to change, mutilate or desecrate. Or, in this instance, unnaturally interfere with life’s natural process.
Third, embalming was opposed because it interfered with the mourner’s necessary acceptance of the reality of death. Rabbi Maurice Lamm, author of The Jewish Way In Death & Mourning, notes “the art of the embalmer is the art of complete denial. Embalming seeks to create an illusion, and, to the extent that it succeeds, it only hinders the mourner from recovering from [the grief of loss].” In other words, embalming is an effort to make the dead still alive, and in doing so the mourner is prevented from coming to terms with the finality of death.
As we enter a new calendar year in which we hope for better times and better lives, this is a good place to begin. After all, death should be seen as a re-affirmation of life. We do not pretend that it does not happen, rather death is a reminder of our mortality; another reason to choose life, embrace life, and live life. . now!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Miketz posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/26/08 | Torah Portion: Miketz
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 41:1-44:17
December 26, 2008
Dedicated to Mike, Mitch, David & Joel-my “band of brothers”
The remaining Torah portions in the Book of Genesis chronicle the lives, times, and struggles of Jacob’s “favorite” son Joseph and his siblings; a “band of brothers.” Theirs is a relationship strained by jealousy, but in times of crisis bonded together by a common faith and trust in one another. Led by Judah, the brothers take out their frustration with Joseph’s “favorite son” status by casting him into a pit, later to be sold into slavery in Egypt. Assuming Joseph had died, the brothers and their grieving father carry on their lives while Joseph uses his cunning to rise in the political ranks of Egyptian hierarchy. Only the Pharaoh is more powerful. After years apart, the brothers go down to Egypt to seek food during a famine. There, they come before Joseph whom they do not recognize. At a critical moment, Joseph realizes his special bond with this brothers, reveals himself to them, and becomes, again, a “band of brothers.”
In 1969, the popular rock band the “Hollies” recorded a song whose message reflects this biblical account and continues to speak to us:
The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows when.
But I’m strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother
So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We’ll get there.
For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.
If I’m laden at all
I’m laden with sadness
That everyone’s heart
Isn’t filled with the gladness
Of love for one another.
It’s a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we’re on the way to there
Why not share.
And the load
Doesn’t weigh me down at all
He ain’t heavy, he’ my brother.
Joseph realized that “it’s a long road from which there is no return,” and reconciled himself with those whom he was meant to be traveling the paths of life. Whether we be blessed by special relationships with siblings, close friends, or both, it is they who give meaning to our lives, purpose to our strivings, and the strength and courage to see it through. At times they carry us and at other times we bear their burden. Our bond is deeper than just friendship, it is brother and sisterhood. Years may separate us, but time cannot waste away the bonds that bind us together. We are a “band of brothers.” Nothing is stronger. Nothing more sacred.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Hanukkah 5769/2009 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/19/08 | Hanukkah 5769/2008
December 19, 2008
The 8-day celebration of Hanukkah begins Sunday evening, December 21st. Though a “minor” festival on the Jewish calendar, it is celebrated my more Jews than any other Jewish holiday. Marshall Sklare, credited for being the “father of American Jewish sociology,” noted several reasons for the popularity of Hanukkah: 1) It has a strong children’s component, 2) it requires little knowledge of specific Jewish ritual (all one needs is an 8-branch menorah and Hanukkah candles), 3) it is celebrated in close proximity to a holiday celebration of the majority culture (in this instance, Christmas), and 4) the home is the central location for observance. None of the above have anything to do with the significance and meaning of the celebration and for many this isn’t important. What is, is the connection it creates between the Jew and his/her Judaism.
In fact, the historical background and religious meaning of Hanukkah can be confusing. On one hand, the holiday celebrates the military victory of a small band of Jews-known as the “Maccabees”-against an army of Syrians in 164 B.C.E. On the other hand, it celebrates the re-dedication of the ancient Temple and the miracle of a small amount of oil (enough to light the ancient Temple menorah for one day) that lasts eight days. Then, again, some suggest the “miracle” was the military victory of the “few against the many.”
After the destruction of the ancient Temple and Jerusalem in 70 C.E., followed shortly by the disastrous Jewish revolt against the Romans in 135 C.E., the sages wanted to discourage any possibility of future ill-conceived military campaigns. Rabbi Reuven Hammer notes, “Indeed that fear became enshrined in Jewish law and tradition and resulted in teaching that we should never again try to use human means to restore Jewish independence but must accept the rule of the nations and wait patiently for the Messiah.” For this reason, the rabbis of the 2nd century defined the “miracle” of Hanukkah in relation to the oil and menorah. Even the prophetic passage read on Hanukkah from the Book of Zechariah states: “Not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit said the Lord of hosts.” (Zech. 4:6)
How does one reconcile conflicting historical and religious explanations for the celebration of Hanukkah? Is it military might or ethical right that prevails? Rabbi Hammer explains, “First, there are times when we must fight for our independence and the right to live freely as Jews. Second, we must not allow military might in and of itself to become the goal of our existence. Third, ultimately our success depends not alone on might but on right and on the purity of our cause. And finally, when all is said and done it is God’s spirit and light that prevails in this world and that we are God’s partners in bringing that about. That is no less a miracle than the cruse of oil.”
Happy Hanukkah!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Va'yishlah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/12/08 | Torah Portion: Va’yishlah
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 32:4-36:43
December 12, 2008
Recently, research appeared in medical journals and media outlets claiming that some forms of breast cancer actually cure themselves without aggressive treatments of radiation or chemotherapy. I asked my physician what he thought of this. He was not happy with the dispersion of this information. He feared many people might make the fatal decision of doing nothing in hope that the condition will cure itself.
For visionary leaders, doing nothing is seldom an option. In this Torah portion, Jacob’s only daughter, Dena, is raped by Shechem ben Hamor, son of a local tribal leader. Jacob’s immediate response is not to offer comfort to his daughter or seek justice for this hideous act, but to remain silent.
“Jacob heard that [Shechem] had defiled his daughter Dinah; but since his sons were in the field with his cattle, Jacob kept silent. . . Meanwhile Jacob’s sons, having heard the news, came in from the field. The men were distressed and angry because [Shechem] had committed an outrage in Israel by lying with Jacob’s daughter.” (Gen. 34:5 & 7)
In the presence of silence and absence of leadership, two of Jacob’s sons take it upon themselves to avenge the rape by killing all the inhabitants of Shechem’s village. In some instances “silence is golden,” but too often it results in disaster.
In the years immediately preceding the beginning of World War II, and in the early stages of the war, there were ominous signs pointing to the destruction of European Jewry. Until 1943, Franklin D. Roosevelt’s administration took a position opposing US involvement in rescuing the Jews. Being silent and doing nothing was an easier position and more politically expedient. And, in the end, cost millions of lives.
In our own day, a genocide continues in Darfur and an epidemic of Cholera reportedly threatens half the population of Zimbabwe (population: 12 million). International leaders have demonstrated concern, but they continue to do little or nothing. The consequences of ambivalence will be devastating.
What makes Jacob such a compelling biblical figure is his willingness to recognize his shortcomings and change. He does, though not in time to save the villagers from the hands of his sons. Henry Morgentheau, then Treasury Secretary to FDR, and Congress compelled FDR to finally establish the War Refugee Board which ultimately played a major role in rescuing an estimated 200,000 Jews from the Holocaust. Will our leadership today, and that of the other nations of the world, also recognize the necessity to act; this time, before it is too late?
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Vayeitze posted by Rabbi Siegel on 12/06/08 | Torah Portion: Vayetzei
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 28:10-32:3
December 5, 2008
Having cheated his twin brother Esau out of his birthright and blessing, Jacob is advised by his mother, Rebecca, that it is too dangerous for him to remain at home. She tells him to leave Canaan and flee to her brother Laban’s home. At a young age, Jacob is compelled to involuntarily leave his home to protect himself from the perceived wrath of his brother. Under these circumstances, it is understandable that he might be gripped by fear and anxiety. In moments of grave crisis, who can he turn to? Jacob’s parents are no longer there to assist. It is in the night of Jacob’s life that he discovers God’s presence.
In a vision while sleeping, his life begins to take on a new moral order. “He had a dream; a stairway was set on the ground and its top reached to the sky, and angels of God were going up and down on it. And the Lord was standing beside him and He said . . . . Remember, I am with you: I will protect you wherever you go and will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised.” (Gen. 28:12, 13, 15)
Our most profound discoveries of self often occur in the darkness of life. It is when we are in crisis and most vulnerable that we understand what we were never able to before. Infancy is about never having to struggle with higher meaning. Good parenting is about providing for a child’s every need-food, clothing, shelter, affection, and protection. The young child doesn’t think twice about the existence of God. For him/her, the parent is God. The first “night” encountered in growing up is the moment the young adolescent transcends the limits of childhood and confronts adulthood. The psalmist writes, “Though my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will take me in.” (Psalm 27:10). I am certain the author of this psalm does not believe that parents routinely abandon their children. Rather, it is understandable that young adults might translate the fear of new surroundings and responsibilities as a sign of parental abandonment. It is a part of growing up. For many young people, like Jacob, it is the beginning of spiritual recognition. It is the initial comprehension of a spiritual force in our lives providing support, strength, and protection.
Rabbi David Wolpe, in his book Why Faith Matters, writes, “There are moments in every life when suffering or difficulty opens the way for understanding. Still, the darkness does not only obscure, it also clears a path for the receptive soul.”
It is, in fact, because we walk “in the shadow of the Valley of Death” (Psalm 23:4), that we are open to, and capable of, discovering that “It is you who light my lamp; the Lord, my God, lights up my darkness.” (Psalm 18:29)
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Thanksgiving 2008 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/21/08 | Thanksgiving 2008
Most American civil holidays are celebrated as a day off from work or school. The commemoration of the particular day’s actual meaning is usually observed by a small cadre of citizens. Thanksgiving is the exception. A majority of Americans actually gather together for a Thanksgiving meal in honor of the blessings that have been brought to their lives.
In the best and worst of times, America is still the greatest country on the face of the earth. Being the “greatest” doesn’t mean having the strongest military presence or boasting the strongest economy. In better times, America’s greatness has included both of the above. Today we are being increasingly more economically-challenged. Yet, how many other countries in the world have a constitution that proclaims “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America” and then tirelessly protect the sanctity of these words. Even in worst of times, an American always believes things will be better. We have good reason. It has happened countless times in our history. When the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” seemed dimmest, an American was there to offer hope for a brighter day. Maybe it was Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt, John Kennedy, Martin Luther King. And maybe it was also Lyndon Baines Johnson.
Historian Louis Gomolak suggested that Lyndon Johnson broke the law to get European Jews into the US during the rise of Nazism in the 30’s. In Prologue: LBJ's Foreign Affairs Background, 1908-1948, he states, "...[D]espite an all-out effort to stop Jewish immigration by Roosevelt's new anti-Semitic assistant secretary of state, Breckinridge Long, Congressman Lyndon B. Johnson secretly began smuggling European Jews into Texas, say dozens of members of the Austin Jewish Community. False passports and one-way visas were obtainable first in Cuba, and when that source dried up then in Mexico." Historian James Smallwood writes, "It is correct that Johnson did not risk his life, but he committed illegal acts to save the Jews. It can be proved that LBJ saved some 42 from the Nazis. Indirect evidence says he probably saved about 400.”
The fact few know of the courageous actions of LBJ is because they were in violation of law. Today hundreds of Jews (maybe thousands if you count the offspring) can give thanks that a brave American congressman realized at times even the law must be violated in the interest of humanity.
There is so much-and so many-to be thankful for on this Thanksgiving. May America continue to be the shining example of freedom of speech, freedom of religion and the freedom to just be-and may we give thanks to those who protect and defend these sacred freedoms for all people.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Vayera posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/14/08 | Torah Portion: Vayera
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 18:1-22:24
November 14, 2008
A friend reports to you that last night God came to him in a vision, telling him to take his son to a distant mountain, climb the mountain and take the boy’s life as a sacrifice to God. We have a name for this sort of person: a fundamentalist religious fanatic or, in light of current world events, a terrorist! Except, this is precisely what God asks of Abraham in this week’s Torah portion:
“And [God] said, “Take your son, your favored one, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the heights that I will point out to you.” (Gen. 22:2)
Without a word of protest, “Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and put it on his son Isaac. . . .And the two of them walked on together.” (Gen. 22:6 & 8) In the final moment, as Abraham raises the knife to slaughter his son, a voice comes from heaven saying, “Do not raise your hand against the boy, or do anything to him.” (Gen. 22:12) In the end, it was just a test of Abraham’s faith.
There are those who say he passed the test while others suggest he failed. If true faith means accepting “God’s word” without question, then Abraham succeeded. But, if true faith demands a moral/ethical standard against which even God’s word is measured, then he failed.
This single story has prompted Torah scholars of every generation to try to make sense of Abraham’s actions and God’s request. One of the most profound insights comes from the great 19th century Hasidic leader Rabbi Yehudah Leib Alter of Ger: “A person like Abraham, one who serves out of love, would be naturally drawn to follow God’s will with all his heart and innards. Each of his limbs is drawn by its very nature to fulfill the will of God; their very life is the divine command. But in this case it really wasn’t God’s will that he slaughter Isaac! Abraham’s heart discerning this felt no love or attachment to God in this act, since it was not God’s true will. That was the trial. That is also why Abraham insisted that God try him no more, that God never be far from him again. For Abraham’s path was that of love.”
Rabbi Arthur Green expands on the teaching of the Rebbe of Ger by noting, “Having survived that trial, one in which he felt abandoned by the God of love, Abraham is given the strength to say: “No more!” Never again should I or my children have to choose between love and the divine command. In this story, both man and God are tried, tested, and refined, never to be the same again.”
The lesson of Abraham is clear: Taking lives in the name of God profanes God’s name. God’s place is not with the perpetrator, but with the victim. This is the same Abraham who is the father of monotheism for Jews, Christians, and Muslims. If only his words could be spoken, heard, and discerned by all of us.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Lech Lecha posted by Rabbi Siegel on 11/07/08 | Torah Portion: Lech Lecha
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 12:1-17:27
With this week’s Torah portion the journey of the Jewish people begins. Abraham is commanded by God:
“Go forth from your native land and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” (Gen. 12:1)
A new day dawns for a new people. Change, with all its requisite challenge, becomes the path to a new future embraced by a belief in the One God. This portion has coincided with another event of great historical significance-the election of a new President of the United States. My colleague, Rabbi Bradley Artson of the American Jewish University, offers the following reflection on the juxtaposition of recent events with this week’s Torah portion.
“No surprise that this week’s Torah portion weighs in on the notion of national greatness. Our father Abraham is summoned by a divine lure to leave the conventionality, habit, and limits of his childhood. He is invited to risk all and to gain all by venturing toward the unknown: "Go forth from your native land and from your father's house to the land that I will show you." Even in the wording of the invitation, God lets Abraham realize that it doesn't have to be the way it always was, that convention does not mandate destiny, that we are all invited to an open-ended journey in which our future is not determined for us. It is chosen by us. God invites Abraham to journey without an assigned destination. Traditionally the text has been read to mean that God (and the reader) can identify the destination in advance, while Abraham is asked to venture forth without knowing where he is headed. But I think the Torah is also indicating that God hasn't yet settled on the destination either: to the land that I will show you, later, as we locate it mutually. God and Abraham will create the future together, as co-creators of an open-ended tomorrow.
As inducement to Abraham to embrace his radical freedom, God entices him with a vision of what such liberty makes possible:
I will make of you a great nation
And I will bless you.
I will make your name great
And you shall be a blessing (12:2).
With this offering, God asks Abraham (and us) to leave behind our own idolatrous assumptions - the way it has always been, the resignation that it must always be that way. The world has often equated greatness with coercion - the ability to impose one's will on another, the power to force others to accede to our desire. Even some of Abraham's children have distorted this blessing into an endorsement of supremacy, coercion, and oppression.
But such a reading is wrong.
The God of Abraham is not about the imposition of force, about stripping creation of agency, novelty, and choice. Instead, we understand the Holy One as the constant, relentless striving toward innovation, freedom, partnership (the Bible calls it "covenant,") and love. One verse later, God weighs in to clarify our understanding of what it means to be a great nation:
All the families of the earth
Shall bless themselves by you (12:3)
A nation is great not by its ability to manipulate and to control, but to the degree that its actions elicit the grateful appreciation of the family of nations. We are Abraham's children to the degree that we are a "light to the nations," as the Prophet Isaiah reminds us -advocates for resolute shalom in a world of brutality and greed, champions for education and dignity in a world of oppression and utility, advocates for freedom and diversity against the smothering blanket of uniformity. Only if the families of the earth see us as a source of blessing are we truly a great nation.
This reality governs human society in the long run, for the God of Israel is the bubbling enzyme of history, the catalyst of freedom, diversity, and mutual care. We need not remain trapped by a mindless, endless, competition for resources in which there must be losers in order for there to be winners. Instead, Abraham (and his children) is invited to leave those old ways, those toxic habits, and to journey into the bracing sunlight of freedom, the oxygenating breathe of possibilities as yet unattempted.
The medieval Torah commentator, Rashi, sums up this blessing quite simply: He hears God tell Abraham "I will make known your character in the world."
My blessing for our new president and for our nation made new - thanks to the wisdom of our founders, our democratic institutions, and our citizenry - is that we, too, will stretch to be a great nation as the Torah understands national greatness: great not in ability to impose, but to inspire. Not in our capacity to hoard and consume, but in our desire to share and to elevate. Not in our selfishness and our narcissism, but in our sense of our expanded belonging and the responsibilities which go with that relating.”
May our great country be like Abraham in his time, “a blessing unto nations.”
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Noah posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/31/08 | Torah Portion: Noah
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 6:9-11:32
October 31, 2008
“And the Lord said to himself: Never again will I doom the earth because of man. . . Nor will I ever again destroy every living being, as I have done.” (Gen. 8:21)
Is it possible anger and disappointment clouded God’s judgment bringing about the great biblical flood? Most biblical commentators concede that seeing his dream of creation corrupting under the influence of humankind, God threw up his metaphorical arms in disgust and, like an artist dismayed by his own work, cast his canvas to the ground. Now, in an act of remorse, God enters a covenant with Noah and all future generations to never again doom the earth and its living beings to destruction. His eternal signature would be the appearance of a rainbow:
“I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it shall serve as a sign of the covenant between Me and the earth.” (Gen. 9:13)
A covenant is an agreement or partnership requiring both parties to adhere to its mandate. In this instance, both God and humankind pledge to never again destroy this earth-the foundation upon which all living beings depend.
In the space of less than a century, our love affair with the comforts afforded by modern technology have brought our very survival on this earth into question. Former Vice President and Nobel laureate Al Gore, in his book “An Inconvenient Truth”, writes, “Many people today assume mistakenly that the Earth is so big that we humans cannot possibly have any major impact on the way our planet's ecological system operates. That may have been true at one time, but it is not the case any more. We have grown so numerous and our technologies have become so powerful that we are now capable of having a significant influence on many parts of the Earth's environment. The most vulnerable part of the Earth's ecological system is the atmosphere. It is vulnerable because it is so thin. Indeed, the Earth's atmosphere is so thin that we have the capacity to dramatically alter the concentration of some of it’s basic molecular components. In particular, we have vastly increased the amount of carbon dioxide--the most important of the so-called greenhouse gases.”
The “good news” is the recent rise in the price of oil has finally awakened the average American to environmental concerns, in general, and discovering alternative sources of energy, in particular. This new enhanced awareness comes at a good time-a national election. How we vote, and who we elect, will greatly determine the level of environmental leadership this country is willing to commit. “Drill, baby, drill” is not the answer, but a denial of the problem. Don’t be fooled by the latest catchword in alternative energy- “clean coal.” There is no such thing as “clean” coal. Since 1900, 104,000 miners in America have died in coal mines, many more have died from black lung disease, and coal is the single, greatest contributor to greenhouse gases. There are other alternatives that will not further threaten the environment. We must demand that the new administration heed this call and deal honestly and forthrightly with this issue.
Each year, as we read the Torah portion of Noah, we are reminded of our promise, commitment, partnership, and covenant with God to “never again” destroy this world. These are no longer just words.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Bereisheet posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/24/08 | Torah Portion: Bereisheet
Book of Genesis
Chaps. 1:1-6:8
October 24, 2008
The creation story in the first chapters of Genesis lifts me spiritually higher than God’s revelation on Sinai. Not because it’s true; it isn’t. Almost identical creation stories-though featuring far more mythological creatures-appear in ancient near eastern literature that pre-dates the Torah. The account in Genesis was never meant to be understood literally, but rather as a figurative, symbolic, and philosophical understanding of the works and deeds associated with the “One” God.
Each summer I embark on a road trip from my home in Houston to my hometown in Seattle. I am always asked, “Why?” Why take a week to drive several thousand miles when you can fly there within hours? Why waste precious vacation time driving endless hours through the ranch lands of east & west Texas, the flat plains of Oklahoma and Kansas, or the desert-like terrain of Utah? I do so to fully appreciate the beauty, enormity, and greatness of creation. In doing so, I spiritually encounter places “where heaven and earth touch!”
Driving through the Rocky Mountains of Colorado or the mountain ranges of Idaho is always a breath-taking experience. Pausing atop the Columbia River gorge near Vantage, Washington I stand in wonder at the awesome power of the river and the timeless presence of the gorge walls. At these moments I realize that the miles and miles of Kansas wheat fields are probably no less inspiring to the Kansas farmer; that the Utah desert is no less moving to another population of people. The real miracle of God’s creation is a world totally and completely fashioned in goodness and beauty. There are no blemishes in nature except those made by the footprint of humankind.
This Torah portion, read each year as we begin a new cycle of Torah reading, is meant to inspire us to open our eyes to the world of nature, in doing so begin re-discovering the goodness and beauty of God.
The crown of creation is humankind. Fashioned in “the image of God”, we are no less inspiring than the mountains, oceans, fields, and deserts. The only blemishes in our creation is when we try to change who we are to be something else. The late humorist Sam Levinson had five beauty tips for his granddaughter, and for all daughters and sons:
“For attractive lips, speak words of kindness,
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people,
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry,
For beautiful hair, let a child run his fingers through it once a day,
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you will never walk alone.”
Next time you find yourself asking, “Where is God?”, look in the mirror. Next time you find yourself wondering, “What is the essence of God?”, take a road trip!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Sukkot 5769 posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/17/08 | Sukkot
October 17, 2008
We are in the midst of the 8-day celebration of Sukkot. Sukkot is best described at the “Jewish” thanksgiving. The holiday revolves around a theme of returning to nature and giving thanks for its abundance. The central figure in the holiday is the Sukkah, or booth. Symbolizing the temporary dwellings of the Israelites in the desert, it also comes to remind us of our temporal existence. We depend on nature and the environment to sustain us. Sukkot celebrates the interrelationship of humankind and nature.
Another ritual object associated with the holiday is the Lulav, or palm branch. It is bound together with a myrtle branch on one side and a willow branch on the other. In the celebration of Sukkot, the Lulav is held together with an Etrog, or citron. The significance of these four species (lulav, myrtle, willow, and etrog) has been explained in a number of ways. My colleague, Rabbi David Seidenberg, offers a unique insight underscoring the significance of Sukkot in our day.
“Sukkot is about water. Everyday in ancient Israel the priests poured water on the altar and prayers from the blessings of water were made. The four species of the lulav are all about water too. The lulav itself, the date palm, was the most water-loving plant of the desert; the myrtle (hadas) needs the most water of the mountain plants; the etrog fruit among agricultural trees requires the most rains to grow; and of course the "willow of the brooks" (arvei nachal) are synonymous with abundant water, growing often with their roots right in the streams.”
“Each of these species represents one of the primary habitats of the land of Israel: the desert, the mountain, the lowland (sh'feilah in Hebrew), and the river or riparian habitats. Each of these habitats is distinguished of course by how much rainfall and how much groundwater are found there. Together, the four species make a bioregional map of the land of Israel, and they each hold in greatest abundance the rains that fell in their region from the year that has passed. Bringing these four together, we wave them in all directions around us, up and down, praying that the coming year will again bring enough water for each of these species to grow and thrive, and with them all the species of each habitat. All the other explanations you may have heard for the four lulav species are beautiful midrashim (legends), but this is the ground-level reason for it all. We are praying, fundamentally, for the climate, for the stability and sufficiency of the rain and sun, on which every being living upon the land, plant or animal, depends.”
“How can we make our prayers heard? We can make them heard by hearing them ourselves. All ecosystems are connected, and we cannot harm one without harming the others. When we pray for abundance and sustenance while living in ways that destroy our climate, it is like praying with a dried-out lulav, or worse, praying for health while eating poisons and toxins. Since we must pray for these things, let us also pray for the wisdom and ability to act consistently with our prayers, to change how we live so that we might live sustainably on the earth, as the Torah enjoins us: Uvacharta bachayim! Choose life!”
When asked, “How important are these ancient holidays we celebrate?”, the answer is clear: They are of ultimate importance, no more so than Sukkot!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Ha'azinu posted by Rabbi Siegel on 10/10/08 | Torah Portion: Ha’azinu
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 32:1-52
October 10, 2008
The dynamics of effective leadership: You are the leader of a project. It’s the end of a difficult period (day, week, month, year, etc.). You faced numerous challenges to the tasks at hand, and even your leadership. In spite of the workers incompetence and insolence, you succeeded. The project is completed. All that remains is bidding adieu to the workforce. Do you thank them for their efforts or remind them if they ever hope to work again they must “clean up their act!” There are three leadership models to choose from- 1) Forget the past and honor them for the work they did. Let them feel good about themselves. After all, you may need to employ them in a future project, 2) thank them for their work while gently encouraging them to improve their skills so you may someday work together in a future project, or 3) simply let the workers know how disappointed you were with their work.
Moses has come to the end of his mission. The excitement and expectation that accompanied the initial exodus from Egypt has long since been forgotten. From the time the Israelites entered the Sinai wilderness until they arrived at the doorstep of the Promised Land, they complained, rebelled, and even built an idol to worship. Now, in his final moments, Moses is called upon to give a final charge to the Israelites. What does he say? This week’s Torah portion contains a poem Moses composed for the occasion.
The poem expresses two themes: 1) The greatness of God:
The Rock! His deeds are perfect,
Yea, all His ways are just;
A faithful God, never false,
True and upright is He.
-Deut. 32:4
2) The stubbornness and unreliability of the Israelites:
Children unworthy of Him-
That crooked, perverse generation-
Their baseness has played Him false.
Do you thus requite the Lord,
O dull and witless people?
Is not he the Father who created you,
Fashioned you and made you endure!
-Deut. 32:5-6
Most of us would probably opt for leadership style 1 or 2. Moses chooses 3! Forty years of dealing with this “stiff-necked people” has taken its toll on the “leader of the band.” His message is not one of encouragement or challenge. Instead, it is the catharsis of an old man who lived his entire life in pursuit of an ideal, only to be disappointed in the end. The Israelites will realize the dream under the leadership of someone else.
In the end, Moses has forgotten his own mission. He was charged with facilitating the creation of a new People in their own land. It was never about “him;” always about “them.” Many years ago, a summer camp director taught me an important lesson: “A good leader is one who when the work is done, his charges say “we did it ourselves!”
Maybe this is why Moses was not permitted to enter the Promised Land? Food for thought!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
|
Nitzavim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/26/08 | Torah Portion: Nitzavim
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 29:9-30:20
September 26, 2008
“You stand this day, all of you, before the Lord your God. .” (Deut. 29:9)
Moses concludes his final instructions to the Israelites prior to entering the Promised Land. In a final ceremony, the gathered mass accepts the covenant with God. It is not a coincidence that this Torah portion is read every year just prior to Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year). Just as the Israelites have completed their journey in the Sinai wilderness, so to Jews have completed a year that found us at times wandering in our own personal wilderness. Just as the Israelites are called upon to accept the covenant with God in preparation for entering a new era in the life of the Jewish people, so to are Jews called upon on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur to re-accept a covenant with God in preparation for a better, more fulfilling year.
Starting anew is not as simple as it seems. Rosh Hashanah is the time to evaluate the past year; to assess the paths taken, the difficulties encountered, the mistakes made, and the lessons learned. It is also the time for drawing up a “game plan” for the year ahead. What are our personal goals? Are they achievable? If so, how?
The following is one of my favorite parables for this time of year.
There was a poor countrywomen who had many children. They were always begging for food, but she had none to give them. One day she found an egg.
She called her children and said, “Children, children, we’ve nothing to worry about any more; I’ve found an egg. And, being an shrewd woman, I’ll not eat the egg, but shall ask my neighbor for permission to set it under her setting hen, until a chick is hatched. For I am a wise woman! And we’ll not eat the chick, but will set her on eggs, and the eggs will hatch into chickens in their turn will hatch many eggs, and we’ll have many chickens and many eggs. But I’m a sensible woman, I am! I’ll not eat the chickens and not eat their eggs, but shall sell them and buy a heifer. And I’ll not eat the heifer, but shall raise it to a cow, and not eat the cow until it produces calves. And I’ll not eat it then, either, and we’ll have cows and calves. For I am a shrewd woman! And I’ll sell the cows and the calves and buy a field, and we’ll have fields and cows and calves, and we won’t need anything any more!”
The countrywoman continued to speak in this manner as she played with the egg. Suddenly it fell out of her hands and broke.
The parable goes on to say: “That is how we are. When Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur arrive, every person resolves to begin, again, thinking in his/her heart, “I’ll do this and I’ll do that.” But the days slip by in mere deliberation, and thought doesn’t lead to action, and what is worse, the person who made the resolution may fall even lower.”
In the coming week, all the Jewish people will “stand before God.” We will use words of prayer to express hopes and intentions for the coming year, but unless they are accompanied by deeds and actions, the words will remain stillborn on our lips.
May we all be inscribed and sealed for a year of happiness, health, and peace.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Ki Tavo posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/19/08 | Torah Portion: Ki Tavo
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 26:1-29:8
September 19, 2008
For Moses, the end draws near. The journey is completed. The Israelites have been reminded of their obligations to their people, their land, and their God. Now Moses brings closure to 40 years of “people-building” with a ceremony of rewards & punishments. If they follow God’s path of mitzvot, these will be their gains. If they choose not to follow, these will be their losses.
The list of blessings and curses in Ki Tavo is interestingly unbalanced. There are 55 verses of curse and only 14 verses of blessing! What we have is a unique insight into human behavior and further evidence of God’s existence.
Humankind is not born with an innate sense of good. Neither are we born with a natural inclination toward evil. People are simply born! Unlike the animal world which is instinctively wired, humankind develops instincts based on background and environment. An infant is born into an existence of complete selfishness. Everything is done for him/her. As the infant grows into adolescence, the child begins learning responsibility; not just for oneself, but for community, as well. He/she learns how good and wonderful the world can be. This alone does not compel the youngster to abandon his/her narcissistic roots. Therefore, the parent/teacher instructs the child in the consequences of not assuming responsibility.
The Israelites, after 40 years of adolescence, prepare to take on the responsibilities of adulthood. Like many children, they’ve learned their lessons the hard way. Now, in a concluding ceremony, they are reminded if they want the blessings of a good place to live, children, wealth, and peaceful interaction with neighbors and friends, they’d better heed the words of the Torah; not to, could be disastrous.
The Torah portion reminds all of us that the good life is the result of taking obligation, responsibility and commitment seriously.
A colleague of mine was asked, “How do you know God exists?” He responded, “There is no other way to explain why people choose to do good!” Our sense of responsibility, though not innate, is divinely-inspired!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Hurricane Ike posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/12/08 | Hurricane Ike
September 12, 2008
For those living in Houston, or along the Texas coastline, we await the unknown. Veterans of Hurricanes Carla (1961), Elisha (1983), or Rita (2005) will tell you that no news report or satellite picture can ever prepare you for the actual reality. It is impossible to appreciate the incredible strength of these forces of nature, nor realize the devastation and destruction they are capable of doing, until you have lived through one. It is also in these moments of crisis that God becomes a presence in so many lives. Rabbi David Wolpe once wrote, “God is discovered in the night of our lives.” So true.
In the liturgy for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur it is written, “The great shofar is sounded. A still, small voice is heard.” For us, the “great shofar” is a metaphor for the storm that lies ahead, and God is the “still small voice.” The strength of God’s presence is not in the storm, but in the hope, comfort, and personal strength his/her presence brings to each of us facing the unknown.
A local colleague, Rabbi Ranon Teller of Congregation Brith Shalom, compiled the following excerpts from Jewish literature to aid and comfort those in the proverbial “line of fire.”
Prayers for the home while sheltering from the storm
Hashkeeveinu (“Help Us Lie Down”)
Help us, Oh God, to lie down in peace, and awaken us again to life. Spread over us Your shelter of peace; guide us with Your wisdom. Protect us with Your mercy. Shield us from wind and rain. Shelter us in the shadow of wings, O God, who watches over us and delivers us. Guard our homes and our families. Grant us life and peace, now and always. Spread over us the shelter of Your peace. Praised are You, Oh God, who spreads the shelter of peace over us, over all people, and over Jerusalem.
Gevurot (Strength)
Your might, Oh God, is boundless. Great is Your saving power. Your love sustains us, Your great love gives us life. You support the falling, heal the ailing, free the confined. What power can compare to yours? You are the Source of life and deliverance. Praised are You, Oh God, Source of all.
Psalm 93
Oh God, our God, the Source of all.
You set the earth on a sure foundation. You created a world that stands firm.
The rivers may rise and rage, the waters may pound and pulsate, the floods may swirl and storm.
Yet above the crash of the sea and its mighty breakers is our God, supreme.
Your wisdom and strength never fail.
Blessing upon seeing a storm
Barukh ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melekh Ha-olam, she-kocho u-g'vurato malei olam.
Praised are You Our God, Master of the Universe, Source of All, whose power and might fill the world.
Closing Prayer
Even in this time of distress, grant me the privilege of the liberating joy of Shabbat. Fill my heart with gladness. Show me the path of life, the fullness of Your presence, the bliss of feeling close to You. May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable to You, Oh God, my Rock and my Redeemer. May the One who brings peace in the upper worlds, bring peace to us, the State of Texas, and to all people. Amen.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Shoftim posted by Rabbi Siegel on 09/05/08 | Torah Portion: Shoftim
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 16:18-21:9
“You shall appoint magistrates and officials for your tribes, in all the settlements that the Lord your God is giving you, and they shall govern the people with due justice. . . . Justice, justice shall you pursue!” (Deut. 16:18, 20)
With the conclusion of the two political conventions, and the formal launch of the Presidential campaign, this teaching is quite timely! In the weeks ahead, as in the recent past, we will continue to be barraged with “smoke and mirrors” to cloud our reason and divert our attention from what we should be seeking in a new leader. What does the Jewish tradition suggest are the qualifications to serve as a “magistrate and official”?
There are any number of answers to the above question, but let me limit it to three primary qualities: Hesed (“Kindness & Caring”), Binah (“Understanding”), and Day’ah (“Knowledge”). One who wishes to bear the mantle of leadership must, first and foremost, be a person who is liked and respected by those he/she wishes to lead. “Kindness & Caring” means being able to empathize with the cries of the poor as well as the rich. While a government’s chief concern is for it’s citizenry, a leader’s chief concern must extend to the welfare and well-being of all people who wish to share in the American dream.
An effective leader must be not just an outstanding but an understanding individual. In Kabalistic (mystic) terms, Binah (Understanding) is “processed wisdom,” or deductive learning. A leader must be able to gather all the facts and necessary knowledge, process them, and rationally determine the correct path to follow. However, to achieve understanding a leader must first possess the requisite knowledge, Day'ah, to carry out the responsibilities of office. This is analogous to an automobile. A car requires fuel and an engine to run. For a leader, the fuel-pure energy-is knowledge and the engine-refining the energy-is understanding.
Several political pundits have accused the candidates of being to much about personality and not enough about substance. By implication, the best candidate is the most substantive, regardless of personality. Not true! The leadership model I have presented suggests the most successful candidate is one who possesses a personality of kindness, a sharp intellect, and the constant desire to pursue understanding through knowledge. Amidst the fog and haze of political spin, it is these qualities we should look for in the next President of the United States.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Standing Up! posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/30/08 | One Month Until Rosh Hashanah
August 29, 2008
As a child I was taught if you don’t stand for something, you stand for nothing. This message resonated in the presence of 80,000 Americans gathered to hear the Democratic nominee for President. Next week, the same message will be on display at the Republican convention in St. Paul, MN. Coincidentally, Sunday and Monday mark the beginning of the Hebrew month of Elul, which means the Jewish New Year (Rosh Hashanah) is only one month away. In preparation for Rosh Hashanah, Jews typically spend the next 30 days taking stock of their successes and failures during the past year. It is a time to ask oneself, “What is it I stand for?”
With a hope you will ponder this question in the days and weeks ahead, I am including a rather off-beat poem with a timely message. Enjoy and learn!
The Lesson Of The Moth
I was talking to a moth
the other evening
he was trying to break into
an electric light bulb
and fry himself on the wires
why do you fellows
pull this stunt I asked him
because it is the conventional
thing for moths or why
if that had been an uncovered
candle instead of an electric
light bulb you would
now be a small unsightly cinder
have you no sense
plenty of it he answered
but at times we get tired
of using it
we get bored with the routine
and crave beauty
and excitement
fire is beautiful
and we know that if we get
too close it will kill us
but what does that matter
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while
so we wad all our life up
into one little roll
and then we shoot the roll
that is what life is for
it is better to be a part of beauty
for one instant and then cease to
exist than to exist forever
and never be a part of beauty
our attitude toward life
is come easy go easy
we are like human beings
used to be before they became
too civilized to enjoy themselves
and before I could argue him
out of his philosophy
he went and immolated himself on a patent cigar lighter
I do not agree with him
myself I would rather have
half the happiness and twice
the longevity
but at the same time I wish
there was something I wanted
as badly as he wanted to fry himself
-Don Marquis
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
|
Ekev posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/22/08 | Torah Portion: Ekev
Book of Deuteronomy
Chaps. 7:12-11:25
August 22, 2008
As I stood in line to board a Southwest Airlines flight, I could hear the pilot behind me discussing the stock market with another passenger. As he approached me, I jokingly commented, “I hope your flying is as good as your investing!” He stopped, pulled out a pair of inch-thick glasses and replied, “Don’t worry, with my new glasses I can finally see the runway for landings!” As the flight landed in Houston, one of the flight attendants began singing over the P.A. system, “The first name of my airline is S-O-U-T-H, the last name of my airline is W-E-S-T. . . .” I thought to myself, “these people really like what they’re doing!” It’s not a coincidence that Southwest is consistently among the best airlines in the industry.
In the Torah portion Ekev, Moses tries to empower the Israelites to continue the process of people/nation building after they enter the “Promised Land.” He says to them:
“Know, then, that it is not for any virtue of yours that the Lord your God is giving you this good land to occupy; for you are a stiffnecked people.” (Deut. 9:6).
Do statements like this really motivate one? Maybe in biblical times, but in a “post-modern” era attacks on a person’s (or people’s) self-esteem not only produces negative results but can end in a lawsuit!
One of Moses’ greatest attributes is also the source of his greatest weakness: He’s human. As such, he’s given to occasional anger, dismay, and disappointment. After 40 years, he is still not certain this people understand their God, much less their mission in history. He is dismayed and disappointed in not being permitted to finally enter the Land he could only dream of. And, he’s embittered by the fact that this “Stiff-necked people” will enter in his stead. His admonishment of their lack of virtue is understandable, but not acceptable.
In last week’s Torah portion we read, “And you shall love the Lord, your God. “ (Deut. 6:5). Rabbi Shlomo ben Yitzhaki, better known as “Rashi”, explains this verse to mean, “He who serves his master out of fear, if the master troubles him too much, he will leave and go away.” Moses can be forgiven for being human, but a leader will never inspire through fear and intimidation, and neither will an employer. Only love, compassion and understanding are omnipotent. Just as Rashi understood this, so does Herb Kelleher, owner and president of Southwest Airlines. I thank him for teaching me some Torah!
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Vacation posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/09/08 | Rabbi Siegel is on vacation. His Torah lessons will continue on Friday, August 29, 2008. Until then, check out the archives by clicking below. |
Mas'ei posted by Rabbi Siegel on 08/01/08 | Torah Portion: Mas’ei
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 33:1-36:13
August 1, 2008
If you are a fan of football you recognize the name Brett Favre (pronounced FaRve). He spent the past 16 years as quarterback of the legendary Green Bay Packers. Over these many years, he was seldom blessed with the most outstanding pass receivers, or runners, or offensive line. Nonetheless, every year his team was in contention. His name became synonymous with everything that was good about competitive sports. At the end of last season Brett announced his retirement from football. The Packers and their fans were sad to see him leave, but it was time to move on with a new quarterback and new team leadership. A month ago, Brett Favre announced his desire to come out of retirement and return to the Green Bay Packers. Even though the team would probably have a better chance of winning in the short term with Brett rather than an untested replacement, they knew he was no longer in their plans for the future. At this moment, the Packers seem resolved to move on. Brett continues to have a difficult time “letting go.”
This week’s Torah portion, the final one in the Book of Numbers, marks the end of the Israelites journey through the desert. The time has come for Moses to hand over the reigns of leadership to Joshua, his younger protégé. The legends of the ancient rabbis (Midrash) tell of Moses’ difficulty in letting go. For 40 years, Moses successfully guided a “stiff-necked people” through an untamed wilderness only to be told that Joshua would take over. It would be Joshua who would finally lead the Israelites into the Promised Land. According to the Midrash, Moses pleaded with God to spare his life and let him lead the Israelites forward. He called upon witnesses from among the people to speak on his behalf. In the end, the future of the Israelite nation required new leadership and direction. It required Moses “letting go.”
Among the most difficult tasks in life is “letting go.” Whether it is sending children into the world as young adults or retiring from a job that defined one’s existence for so many years, we all have to eventually “let go.” Everyone says how wonderful it will be to move on in life, begin anew, face new challenges, set out for new horizons. Unfortunately, these are only words. Too often our actions, like those of the biblical giant Moses or the more earthly Brett Favre, betray our words.
Learning to “let go” can be more fulfilling than learning to “accept.” It is something we ought to be prepared for, but never are. It is one of the moments in life that inevitably must happen. Letting go is not about failure or diminished skills, it is about not allowing the past to hold a veto over the future.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Mattot posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/25/08 | Torah Portion: Mattot
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 30:2-32:41
July 25, 2008
A Zionist is one who longs to live in Israel, the Land of Zion. The roots of biblical Zionism go back to the promise God made to Moses and the Israelites when they were still in Egypt. The modern Zionism of the early 20th century culminated in the creation of the State of Israel in 1948. Most American Jews still identify themselves as Zionists even though they have no intention or, for that matter, longing to live in Israel. Can one consider themselves a Zionist and not be living in Israel? What are the boundaries to defining oneself as a Zionist? These questions were no less relevant in the time of Moses.
In this Torah portion, the tribes of Reuben and Gad, who own a great number of cattle, approach Moses with the request to settle the lands of Jazer and Gilead on the east side of the Jordan River. They claim these lands are more suitable for cattle-raising than the lands promised them in Canaan. Moses wastes no time in replying, “Are your brothers to go to war while you stay here? (Num. 32:6)” The ancient rabbis suggest these tribes show greater concern for their cattle than for human beings, more attention to their possessions than to their own flesh and blood. After Moses’ stinging reprimand, the two tribes strike a deal with Moses allowing them to settle east of the Jordan River in exchange for their participation in the battle to acquire the Promised Land.
Pinchas Peli recalls the following exchange which took place at the Zionist Executive Committee meeting in Jerusalem during the grave days of the War of Liberation in 1948. “The veteran American leader Rabbi Israel Goldstein declared at that time that the Jews of the United States and the Jews of Israel were partners in the struggle for the Jewish state about to be established. The partnership-said Goldstein-is in the Hebrew word damim, which means both blood and money. We American Jews, he said, put our damim-money-into the partnership. You, Israeli Jews, give your damim-blood.
At this point Rabbi Meir Bar-Ilan, the leader of the religious Zionists, rose to reply to Rabbi Goldstein: Indeed, he said, we are partners in the word damim, but what an immense difference between the two partners! When an Israeli Jew gives his blood for this people, he gives it to the last drop: Is there an American Jew who would give to his last dollar? Moreover, when Israeli parents send their child into battle-it hurts them very much. Is there an American Jew who would give until it hurts? Then Rabbi Bar-Ilan noted, “Oh yes, there are those who start hurting as soon as they give their first dollar!”
Zionism is not a commitment to a government or political entity; it is an unconditional commitment to a Land and a People. The question is the same for us now as it was for the tribes of Reuben and Gad then, how committed are we?
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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Pinchas posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/18/08 | Torah Portion: Pinchas
Book of Numbers
Chaps. 25:10-30:1
July 18, 2008
Pinchas-priest and grandson of Aaron-has his “fifteen minutes of fame” at the conclusion of last week’s Torah portion when an Israelite man brought a Midianite woman into the presence of the Israelites. Pinchas, viewing this relationship as an act of desecration, “Stabbed both of them (Num. 25:8).” It would appear from this week’s portion that his extreme zealousness was, in fact, rewarded by Torah. God turns to Moses and tells him, regarding the actions of Pinchas, “I grant him My pact of friendship (Num. 25:12).”
Over the ages there have been biblical commentators and Midrash (Jewish legends) supporting the deadly actions of Pinchas. There are a greater number of Torah scholars troubled by his display of zealotry. In the Babylonian Talmudic tractate of Sanhedrin (82a), “Rabbi Hisda said: If the zealot comes to the Bet Din (Jewish court) to receive counsel [regarding whether it is permitted for him to take the lives of the Israelite man and Midianite woman cohabiting together], we do not instruct him to do so [even though it be permitted by Jewish law].” Extremism, even when seemingly warranted, is unacceptable.
We live in a time that tests this teaching. Terrorism and extremism are at war with moderation and diplomacy. This is not a war of ideology or relative positions of good. This is a war of Good vs. Evil, and one we can ill afford to lose. Regardless of how committed one is to the “rightness” of their cause, suicide (or homicide) bombings are “evil.” The tragedy of 9/11 is a monument to the “dark side” of human existence. The wanton destruction of even one human life is a desecration of God’s Divine Presence. In response, retaliation becomes necessary, not so revenge. Retaliation is a measured response to surgically remove the elements responsible for the evil. Revenge is an emotional response often devoid of reason with no regard for the moral/ethical dimension of justice.
It is easy at times like this to adopt the self-righteous and zealous position of Pinchas. It is more difficult to stay the course; to fight the immorality of extremism with weapons of reason, intelligence, and enlightenment. Professor Abraham Joshua Heschel taught, “The power to make distinctions is a primary operation of intelligence. We distinguish between white and black, beautiful and ugly, pleasant and unpleasant, gain and loss, good and evil, right and wrong. The fate of humankind depends upon the realization that the distinction between good and evil, right and wrong, is superior to all other distinctions.”
The preservation of “good” demands that we not become like them.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director |
Balak posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/12/08 | Torah Portion: Balak
Book of Numbers
Numbers 22:2-25:9
July 11, 2008
As the Israelites continue their 40-year journey in the desert they encounter, and successfully defeat, a tribe of Canaanites in the Negev and Amorites in Transjordan. Only the land of Moab separates the Israelites from the “Promised Land.” Balak, the King of Moab, realizes his army is no match militarily for the Israelites. He decides to try another method.
According to rabbinic legend (Midrash), Moses was noted for his oratorical skills, especially with regard to prayer. His prayers were able to move God to act on his concerns. The ancient rabbis suggest that Balak, being aware of this extraordinary skill, decided to employ a professional curser, Balaam, who was also noted for his linguistic talent. He was chosen to place a destructive curse on the Children of Israel. Words would become the weapon of choice in the battle against the Israelites. We know words can be hurtful and helpful, disheartening and inspiring, but is the world a better place because of a victory of words or actions?
Regardless of the efficacy of Moses prayer, Judaism has always been a tradition of “deed over creed.” What you do is ultimately more important than what you believe. As Rabbi Ismar Schorsch notes, “In Judaism behavior takes priority over belief. Faith without deeds will not change the world.”
If one were asked to list terms best defining the Jewish experience, it is likely the list would include ethics, moral behavior, acts of loving-kindness, charity (Tzedakah), etc. Mentions of Jewish ritual are less likely. This does not mean that Jewish ritual is merely perfunctory. On the contrary! Rabbi Schorsch links “deed & creed” by teaching, “The best way to infuse the world with holiness is by harnessing the self. As long as ritual is tethered to that aspiration, it can provide us with the discipline to move beyond ourselves.” Putting faith into action, words into deeds, there is hope for this world we live in.
Rabbi Howard Siegel
Jewish Information Center of Houston
Director
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The 4th of July posted by Rabbi Siegel on 07/04/08 | The 4th of July
July 4, 2008
I have just returned from an interesting 10-day car trip through Germany. In the 1960’s, children of the Nazi perpetrators of the Holocaust began requesting to know what it was their parents were hiding or shoving beneath the carpet of time. It was the children of Nazis who demanded Germany come to terms with its past. As a result of their activism, today every large (and many small) city has a “Judishe Museum” (Jewish museum) detailing the history of the Jews in their particular city. Additionally, there are a number of Holocaust museums chronicling the event from the beginnings of the Nazi movement to the Nuremburg trials that followed the war. One might say the Germans have been as meticulous in explaining the Holocaust as they were in perpetrating it!
From the site of the Wannsee conference (where the “Final Solution” was proposed) on the outskirts of Berlin to the Nazi Documentation Center in Nuremburg to Hitler’s “Eagle’s Nest” in the Bavarian town of O
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