Our identity is shaped by those who have come before us. We are born into a family, a community, a nation. The values of those who have come before are transmitted to us either implicitly or explicitly, and we choose either to embrace them or to substitute other values in their place. This week, in Parashat Vayehi, we learn that we can be blessed by those who have come before us, and that we can even be blessed by those who will come after.
Just before Jacob dies in Egypt, he summons his grandsons, Ephraim and Manasseh, the sons of Joseph. “He blessed them, saying, ‘By you shall Israel invoke blessings, saying: God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh’” (Genesis 48:20). This blessing lives on today, as the traditional blessing that parents give to their sons as Shabbat begins on Friday evening. It is the blessing that the older generation bestows upon the younger, with the wishes that the young will grow to be like their forebears, Ephraim and Manasseh. If you read the words carefully, however, you will see that Jacob blessed his grandsons by telling them that future generations would invoke their names in blessing their children. This promise, or prediction, was itself the blessing that Jacob gave. The two grandsons were blessed with the knowledge that their memory would be perpetuated, and that they would stand as role models for future generations.
Blessing is a two-way street. Parents can bless their children, children are a blessing to their parents. Older people can bless younger people by imparting their wisdom and experience, while younger people can bless older people with their vigor, enthusiasm and optimism. Our Torah reading teaches us that both types of blessing are possible, and indeed desirable.
How have you been blessed by those who have come before you? Do you feel blessed by children, or those younger than you? In what way can we look to find blessings in all of our relationships?
I invite you to reflect on these questions and dialogue with me and others about them and about this week’s Torah discussion here, on Congregation B’nai Shalom’s new blog.
Shabbat shalom, and happy (secular) new year!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Shabbat shalom.
With Parashat Vayiggash we near the end of the Book of Genesis and the story of Joseph’s experience in Egypt winds down. Joseph finally reveals his true identity to his brothers and asks, “Is my father still well?” The brothers, naturally are stunned – and quite worried – because when they left off with their younger brother they had just sold him into Egyptian slavery. They certainly never expected to see him again – and certainly not as ruler over all of Egypt!
Joseph puts their minds at ease. He only wants to know about his father. It seems that he has missed his father for all of the intervening years, and he assumes that his father has suffered both physically and emotionally from the loss of his favorite son, as well. Joseph is desperate to see his father. Jacob, for his part, is equally moved by the news that Joseph is still alive. “Enough!” said Israel. “My son Joseph is still alive! I must go and see him before I die” (Gen. 45:28).
The bonds between parents and children are powerful and cannot be overestimated. Many of us are blessed with positive and meaningful experiences or memories of nurturing and loving parents. We look to our parents as role models and as our cheerleaders par excellence, and we are proud of the positive influence that our parents have had on our lives as role models. Some of us do not see our parents in that same light. Our relationships may be strained or even non-existent. Nevertheless, I would submit that even under such circumstances we live as the products of our parents – perhaps not because we seek to emulate them but because we choose to live differently in reaction to certain objectionable traits or qualities. What is consistent is that each generation follows the last and through such evolution we experience gradual change as we mix elements of the past with those of the present. The outcome is our reality as we know it.
Rabbi Harold Schulweis tells the story of a congregant who came to him in crisis following the loss of his father. “My father was not a good man, a good husband or a good father. Why should I say kaddish for him?” Schulweis responded with great wisdom and understanding, “If you cannot mourn for the man that he was, mourn for the father that you never had.”
May we be blessed with relationships that endure the passage of time, the stresses of our lives, and the challenges that we experience as unique individuals in the world. May we be privileged to look upon our parents as those who gave us life and nurtured us to face the world with strength and goodness. And may the positive qualities of all those who love us live through us as we grow and learn from their examples so that we can continue the work of transforming the world day by day.
Shabbat shalom.
Joseph puts their minds at ease. He only wants to know about his father. It seems that he has missed his father for all of the intervening years, and he assumes that his father has suffered both physically and emotionally from the loss of his favorite son, as well. Joseph is desperate to see his father. Jacob, for his part, is equally moved by the news that Joseph is still alive. “Enough!” said Israel. “My son Joseph is still alive! I must go and see him before I die” (Gen. 45:28).
The bonds between parents and children are powerful and cannot be overestimated. Many of us are blessed with positive and meaningful experiences or memories of nurturing and loving parents. We look to our parents as role models and as our cheerleaders par excellence, and we are proud of the positive influence that our parents have had on our lives as role models. Some of us do not see our parents in that same light. Our relationships may be strained or even non-existent. Nevertheless, I would submit that even under such circumstances we live as the products of our parents – perhaps not because we seek to emulate them but because we choose to live differently in reaction to certain objectionable traits or qualities. What is consistent is that each generation follows the last and through such evolution we experience gradual change as we mix elements of the past with those of the present. The outcome is our reality as we know it.
Rabbi Harold Schulweis tells the story of a congregant who came to him in crisis following the loss of his father. “My father was not a good man, a good husband or a good father. Why should I say kaddish for him?” Schulweis responded with great wisdom and understanding, “If you cannot mourn for the man that he was, mourn for the father that you never had.”
May we be blessed with relationships that endure the passage of time, the stresses of our lives, and the challenges that we experience as unique individuals in the world. May we be privileged to look upon our parents as those who gave us life and nurtured us to face the world with strength and goodness. And may the positive qualities of all those who love us live through us as we grow and learn from their examples so that we can continue the work of transforming the world day by day.
Shabbat shalom.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Happy Hanukkah!
As we anticipate the lighting of the last candle of the hanukkiyah (menorah) this evening, we look forward to the beautiful light that shines from all of the candles burning brightly. A beautiful teaching links the Hanukkah candles to the radiance of the Torah, based on a verse from the Book of Proverbs: “For the mitzvah is a candle, the Torah is a light” (Proverbs 6:23). Just as light illumines the world, so does Torah illuminate the path of righteousness.
The 19th century commentator, Malbim, extends the comparison: the light of a candle benefits a single person, while the light of the world, or daylight, serves all people. Similarly, a mitzvah represents the possibility of a single person making a difference in the world, while the Torah exists to guide all people in making the world a good place. Further, while candlelight comes from the world below (our world), the light of day comes from above (God’s world). Likewise, the power of a mitzvah comes from below – the human realm – while the greatness of Torah comes from above – from God.
In this way, we learn that Hanukkah is essential to Jewish life – just like the Torah – even though Hanukkah is not mentioned in the Torah. We study Torah to gain the tools for living an ethical and good life, but Hanukkah reminds us that we need to act in our lives by performing mitzvot in order to bring justice into the world. We cannot wait passively and expect redemption to happen to us. We must fight for personal, political and religious freedom for ourselves and for all of God’s people: this was the way of our ancestors and this is the message of the Hanukkah story. It is not enough to read the words or go through the motions of ritual, but we must bring the tradition to life in all of our deeds every day.
Hanukkah is a time of joy and celebration – a time to enjoy family and friends (not to mention fried foods!). Malbim teaches us that Hanukkah also reminds us of our responsibility as Jews to strive for goodness in the world – even perfection, though it may be unattainable. May this continue to be a time of happiness for us, and may we strive to become better people through the celebration of our beautiful traditions.
Happy Hanukkah from all of the staff and families of Congregation B’nai Shalom.
The 19th century commentator, Malbim, extends the comparison: the light of a candle benefits a single person, while the light of the world, or daylight, serves all people. Similarly, a mitzvah represents the possibility of a single person making a difference in the world, while the Torah exists to guide all people in making the world a good place. Further, while candlelight comes from the world below (our world), the light of day comes from above (God’s world). Likewise, the power of a mitzvah comes from below – the human realm – while the greatness of Torah comes from above – from God.
In this way, we learn that Hanukkah is essential to Jewish life – just like the Torah – even though Hanukkah is not mentioned in the Torah. We study Torah to gain the tools for living an ethical and good life, but Hanukkah reminds us that we need to act in our lives by performing mitzvot in order to bring justice into the world. We cannot wait passively and expect redemption to happen to us. We must fight for personal, political and religious freedom for ourselves and for all of God’s people: this was the way of our ancestors and this is the message of the Hanukkah story. It is not enough to read the words or go through the motions of ritual, but we must bring the tradition to life in all of our deeds every day.
Hanukkah is a time of joy and celebration – a time to enjoy family and friends (not to mention fried foods!). Malbim teaches us that Hanukkah also reminds us of our responsibility as Jews to strive for goodness in the world – even perfection, though it may be unattainable. May this continue to be a time of happiness for us, and may we strive to become better people through the celebration of our beautiful traditions.
Happy Hanukkah from all of the staff and families of Congregation B’nai Shalom.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Shabbat shalom and Happy Hanukkah!
This week we read a pivotal story in the Torah, the story of Joseph and the multi-colored coat. The reading, parashat Vayeshev, bridges the earlier accounts of our ancestors, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob, Rachel and Leah, and that of the exodus of our people from Egyptian enslavement. The chain of events begins here: Joseph’s dreams of grandeur infuriate his brothers and they sell him into slavery. He is taken to Egypt, where, after working for a prominent Egyptian, he is thrown into prison. In the weeks to come, we will learn of Joseph’s emergence from the prison on account of interpreting the Pharaoh’s dreams. He will rise to political leadership as he leads Egypt through years of plenty and years of famine, and he will rescue his brothers from starvation by inviting them to relocate and settle in Egypt. Their offspring will be the slaves Moses leads across the Red Sea to Mount Sinai to receive the Torah, and ultimately, to the Land of Israel. In short, without this week’s story, the rest of our history would not have developed as it did.
Early in our story, Joseph is sent out into the fields to check on his brothers. Unable to locate them, he happens across a man – unnamed, unidentified – who points him in the right direction. When he reaches his brothers, they capture him and the story unfolds from there. Had Joseph not encountered the stranger, the course of history might have been substantially different. So who is this man? Is his presence in the story a mere coincidence?
Some of our commentators speculate that the man is in fact a messenger of God, placed in Joseph’s path in order to ensure that Joseph reaches his brothers so that the chain of events will take place according to God’s plan. Ibn Ezra, however, disagrees, saying simply, “according to the plain meaning of the text, he is a traveler”. The ultimate question is, does God act in history? Does God manipulate the events of our lives in order to achieve a particular outcome?
While you are pondering that question (which is going to go unanswered!), the Kotzker Rebbe shared a beautiful teaching on this passage: The man whom Joseph encountered inquired of Joseph’s mission, and Joseph explained that he was seeking his brothers. That man – God’s messenger – was there to teach Joseph that at all of life’s crossroads one ought to articulate one’s desires and aspirations before pursuing them. We should always pause and take stock of our circumstances and then proceed with focus and intent. If we do, we will ultimately find blessing in our lives.
Shabbat shalom and happy Hanukkah!
Early in our story, Joseph is sent out into the fields to check on his brothers. Unable to locate them, he happens across a man – unnamed, unidentified – who points him in the right direction. When he reaches his brothers, they capture him and the story unfolds from there. Had Joseph not encountered the stranger, the course of history might have been substantially different. So who is this man? Is his presence in the story a mere coincidence?
Some of our commentators speculate that the man is in fact a messenger of God, placed in Joseph’s path in order to ensure that Joseph reaches his brothers so that the chain of events will take place according to God’s plan. Ibn Ezra, however, disagrees, saying simply, “according to the plain meaning of the text, he is a traveler”. The ultimate question is, does God act in history? Does God manipulate the events of our lives in order to achieve a particular outcome?
While you are pondering that question (which is going to go unanswered!), the Kotzker Rebbe shared a beautiful teaching on this passage: The man whom Joseph encountered inquired of Joseph’s mission, and Joseph explained that he was seeking his brothers. That man – God’s messenger – was there to teach Joseph that at all of life’s crossroads one ought to articulate one’s desires and aspirations before pursuing them. We should always pause and take stock of our circumstances and then proceed with focus and intent. If we do, we will ultimately find blessing in our lives.
Shabbat shalom and happy Hanukkah!
Friday, December 4, 2009
Shabbat Shalom, December 4, 2009
Struggle is a common theme in life. There are moments that we struggle with adversities of all sorts, times we struggle with others and those experiences of internal struggle. Sometimes it is a condition or travail that causes anguish, and other times a relationship or interaction with another person that creates difficulty. In short, life is not easy, and nobody promised that it would be.
In this week’s parashah, Vayishlach, our patriarch Jacob returns home to Canaan after a 20-year exile at the home of his father, Laban, where he married, raised a family, and acquired wealth. Now he returns to his birthplace and to his brother Esau’s neighborhood. When they left off twenty years earlier, Jacob had just received the blessing of the firstborn from his father, infuriating Esau, who in fact, was the firstborn. Now, Jacob wonders whether he will encounter a brother who welcomes him with open arms or one who greets him with closed fists.
During the night prior to their meeting, Jacob famously struggles with “a man” all night long, and when dawn breaks and neither one has prevailed, Jacob asks his opponent for a blessing. He is blessed with a new name, Israel, because he is one who has struggled with beings human and divine (it makes sense in Hebrew – it’s a word play). Who is this man? Is he actually a human assailant – Esau, perhaps? Or is it a manifestation of God – the name change suggests that he struggled with a divine being? Or something else?
The commentators of our tradition are of mixed opinion. Some suggest he struggled with his brother Esau, others think it is God, or an angel of God. A “compromise” answer yields Esau’s guardian angel. Yet a different interpretation offers that Jacob did not struggle with anyone else but himself. In the lonely darkness, he confronted the realities of his life: he acquired his father’s blessing deceitfully; he fled his home; he manipulated his father-in-law’s flocks in order to boost his own wealth. And now he has returned home and he struggles with his identity: will he perpetuate the traits that have become characteristic of his personality, or will he make a change? By morning, the choice is clear: Jacob takes on a new identity, symbolized by his name change. He will no longer be known as the deceiver (perhaps a word play on his name, Ya-akov), but he will be Yisrael – the one who struggles and engages with God. Perhaps these struggles will lead him to a positive, meaningful and important future.
And so may it be for all of us, as well. The struggles will always be there. Hopefully we will grow and benefit from them.
Shabbat shalom.
In this week’s parashah, Vayishlach, our patriarch Jacob returns home to Canaan after a 20-year exile at the home of his father, Laban, where he married, raised a family, and acquired wealth. Now he returns to his birthplace and to his brother Esau’s neighborhood. When they left off twenty years earlier, Jacob had just received the blessing of the firstborn from his father, infuriating Esau, who in fact, was the firstborn. Now, Jacob wonders whether he will encounter a brother who welcomes him with open arms or one who greets him with closed fists.
During the night prior to their meeting, Jacob famously struggles with “a man” all night long, and when dawn breaks and neither one has prevailed, Jacob asks his opponent for a blessing. He is blessed with a new name, Israel, because he is one who has struggled with beings human and divine (it makes sense in Hebrew – it’s a word play). Who is this man? Is he actually a human assailant – Esau, perhaps? Or is it a manifestation of God – the name change suggests that he struggled with a divine being? Or something else?
The commentators of our tradition are of mixed opinion. Some suggest he struggled with his brother Esau, others think it is God, or an angel of God. A “compromise” answer yields Esau’s guardian angel. Yet a different interpretation offers that Jacob did not struggle with anyone else but himself. In the lonely darkness, he confronted the realities of his life: he acquired his father’s blessing deceitfully; he fled his home; he manipulated his father-in-law’s flocks in order to boost his own wealth. And now he has returned home and he struggles with his identity: will he perpetuate the traits that have become characteristic of his personality, or will he make a change? By morning, the choice is clear: Jacob takes on a new identity, symbolized by his name change. He will no longer be known as the deceiver (perhaps a word play on his name, Ya-akov), but he will be Yisrael – the one who struggles and engages with God. Perhaps these struggles will lead him to a positive, meaningful and important future.
And so may it be for all of us, as well. The struggles will always be there. Hopefully we will grow and benefit from them.
Shabbat shalom.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Shabbat Shalom, November 27, 2009
In this week’s parashah, Va-yetzei, Jacob flees from his home after receiving the blessing of the first-born and infuriating his older brother, Esau. On the journey to his uncle Laban’s home, he falls asleep and dreams of a ladder ascending to the heavens, and he hears the voice of God blessing him. Upon awaking he says the famous words, “Surely God is present in this place and I – I did not know it” (Genesis 28:16).
The commentators ask, is it possible that Jacob does not recognize that God is all-present all the time? Rather, several of them explain, Jacob’s question is intended to express his regret for sleeping in such a holy place, where he could better have experienced God’s presence if he had remained awake. So I wondered, isn’t it possible that Jacob, in fact, sensed God’s blessing only because he was asleep, such that had he been awake, he would not have heard God’s words? I scoured the regular commentaries for an answer – at least for someone who would have raised this question (I assume that all the questions have already been asked, even if not all of the answers have been offered). It wasn’t until I reached an 18th century commentary, the Or Ha-Chayim, written by Rabbi Chayim ben Attar from Morocco, that I found validation for my perspective. (To paraphrase one of my teachers, the commentator agreed with me!)
The answer is clear: if Jacob had not slept, he would not have dreamt of God’s blessing to him. Would he have felt the divine presence if he had remained awake? We do not know. But, I believe, we must conclude that God’s presence inhabits every place, and that is what Jacob should have realized. What he learns is that there are many ways to know God, awake or asleep, here or there. We should learn from Jacob’s experience and open ourselves to the possibility of feeling the presence of God in our lives at every moment and in every place.
Shabbat shalom.
The commentators ask, is it possible that Jacob does not recognize that God is all-present all the time? Rather, several of them explain, Jacob’s question is intended to express his regret for sleeping in such a holy place, where he could better have experienced God’s presence if he had remained awake. So I wondered, isn’t it possible that Jacob, in fact, sensed God’s blessing only because he was asleep, such that had he been awake, he would not have heard God’s words? I scoured the regular commentaries for an answer – at least for someone who would have raised this question (I assume that all the questions have already been asked, even if not all of the answers have been offered). It wasn’t until I reached an 18th century commentary, the Or Ha-Chayim, written by Rabbi Chayim ben Attar from Morocco, that I found validation for my perspective. (To paraphrase one of my teachers, the commentator agreed with me!)
The answer is clear: if Jacob had not slept, he would not have dreamt of God’s blessing to him. Would he have felt the divine presence if he had remained awake? We do not know. But, I believe, we must conclude that God’s presence inhabits every place, and that is what Jacob should have realized. What he learns is that there are many ways to know God, awake or asleep, here or there. We should learn from Jacob’s experience and open ourselves to the possibility of feeling the presence of God in our lives at every moment and in every place.
Shabbat shalom.
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