Saturday, June 25, 2011
Parshat Chukat
Bamidbar 19:1 – 22:1
Sivan 30 5771 / July 1 – 2 2011
L'CHAIM! TO LIFE!
by Laura Taishoff, MH New Orleans
Parashat Chukat was an incredibly interesting Parsha for my first ever D’Var Torah. It includes lessons about how to purify oneself when there has been contact with a dead body, the death of Miriam, and an intense almost revolt against Moses and Aaron.
It was all fascinating but I am choosing to focus on the beginning of the Chapter, which opens with a delineation of the ways in which Jews are required to cleanse themselves after coming into contact with a dead body. In 19:12, there is a description of the red heifer, which is “, faultless, and upon which never came yoke”. The portion says that the heifer must be burned and the ashes will be combined with water to make a purification mixture. On the third day and the seventh day, the individual seeking cleansing will have this purification mixture sprinkled on them and then, he/she would be cleansed.
All of this just for coming into contact with a dead body? Why were such arduous and meticulous orders necessary to warn the Jewish people from coming into contact or hanging around a corpse? I found this kind of warning especially surprising given the various ways in which Jews are required to be empathetic and compassionate towards those who are grieving a loss. It seems to me like mixed messages. If it is so incredibly important that we purify ourselves for merely coming into contact with a dead body, why do those reciting Mourner’s Kiddush stand? It was my understanding that they stand so that they entire community knows that they are grieving and are in need of support. There is also the tradition of brining a home cooked meal to those sitting Shiva.
I came to the conclusion that it is important to recognize the difference in doling out sympathy to those grieving from death and being exposed to death and surrounding yourself with it. Perhaps what the parsah is suggesting is not a lack of compassion for the dead but rather an acknowledgement of life. We support those who are grieving but not at the cost of our own sense of aliveness. If one is constantly surrounded by death and dead bodies, it will be vastly more difficult to fully live and experience all that life has to offer. So, what I am taking away from this portion is the importance of creating boundaries for grieving and mourning, and coupling those with an appreciation for the beautiful, challenging, exhilarating highs and lows that we all experience as a part of LIFE.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Parshat KorachBamidbar 16:1 -18:32
23 Sivan 5771 / June 24 – 25, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Parshat Shelach
Bamidbar 13:1 – 15:41
16 Sivan 5771 / June 17 – 18, 2011
“An Elephant Never Forgets”
by Rebecca Karp, MH Philadelphia
Parshat Shelach (“Send”) is chock-full of amazing tidbits to riff on. Spies, threats of 40 years of wandering, promise of the death of an entire generation, the mitzvah of challah, liturgy from the high holiday services, and it goes on. So much wisdom, so much to choose from. But, as I write this D’var Torah from Israel, eretz zavat halav u’dvash (“a land flowing with milk and honey”), that the Israelites are almost ready to enter, I chose to touch on the commandment of tzitzit, a commandment to wear and remember.
Chapter 15, Verses 38-39
38. Speak to the children of Israel and you shall say to them that they shall make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments, throughout their generations, and they shall affix a thread of sky blue (wool) on the fringe of each corner. 39. This shall be fringes for you, and when you see it, you will remember all the commandments of the Lord to perform them…
Perhaps the phrase, “an elephant never forgets”, bringing up the image of an elephant with a string tied around its (non-existent) finger, comes from the far reaches of Bamidbar and the concept of tying fringes on your garment to remember the commandments of HaShem. Surely an iconic symbol in Judaism, the fringes on the corners of “your” garment represent far more many things to people than only the commandments. For me, the most prominent image this symbol brings up is huddling under my father’s talit during services because the synagogue was so cold and he would hold me and we would sing the prayers together. What does this image, the image of tzitzit, make you think of? I would venture to say not just, if at all, the concept of remembering the commandments.
When I describe a thin, red string tied around someone’s wrist, what do you think of? Kabbalah, Madonna, women begging at the Western Wall? Or when I mention two golden-colored arches? Fries, the Hamburglar, child obesity, McDonald’s? No matter what you associated these two items with, you would likely be both right and not thinking of what the original creator intended for you to think.
The common thread between tzitzit, the red string and the golden-colored arches are that all of these symbols have come to mean more than their original intentions. The symbol of tzitzit is more rich and expansive for us today than HaShem envisioned during Bamidbar, reminding us not only of the commandments, but of our families, our heritage, the Jewish people around us today and what we can give to the Jewish future. Perhaps the next time you put on a garment with tzitzit, or see them on someone else, you will even think of this D’var Torah and remember all of the great work we’re doing (and fun we’re having) in Moishe House! L’hitraot from Jerusalem!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Parshat Beha’alotcha
Bamidbar 8:1 – 12:16
9 Sivan 5771/ June 10 – 11, 2011
Presenting … ME!
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ
Early in the portion, we learn about the purification and dedication of the Levites for their life of service for the work of the Mishkan (in the desert) and the Temple (in Israel). If you recall from Vayikra, the previous book of the Torah, the Levites have some heavy responsibility, literally. It is their job to lug the pieces of the Mishkan through the desert from site to site. They maintained the order and cleanliness of all ritual items and served a supporting role to the Priests.
As G-d is instructing Moshe about this ritual, G-d states (8:16):
" כי נתונים נתונים לי המה מתוך בני ישראל."
“For presented, presented are they to Me from among the Children of Israel.”
Now the Torah is not a text that is generous with words, and if something is repeated twice, there is probably something to learn. Rashi comments on the double use of the word presented. He says that the Levites were presented for two main jobs – the first is to carry the mishkan and take care of the ritual vessels, the second is to sing. During the Temple times the Levites would take shifts throughout the entire day singing psalms and praises to G-d.
The Parsha goes on to teach that a Levite would work between the ages of 25 – 50. When a Levite would turn 50 years old it was time for retirement. Rashi comments that they would retire from carrying physical loads, but that they would continue to sing praises in shifts.
When I think about myself and how I define myself, how I present myself to the world, there are some labels that are fleeting – like Camp Counselor, or even, Jewish Educator. And there are other identities that seem to stick with me – like Son or Helper. Throughout life we are called to fill certain roles in our communities, and these titles and tasks help us to live with a stable and sustainable sense of meaning.
I find a lesson in the Torah’s words by double-tasking the Levites with something that fades (carrying) and something that persists (singing). In our life we are going to lose and let go of jobs, people, and responsibilities that seem to capture who we are. There is a danger if we completely identify with these things, and think that without them our personal meaning is lost too. This is not so. Our identities are multi-leveled and dynamic. And as our roles shift, our personal meaning is extended and enhanced.
When we experience times when we lose something we thought was essential to our identity (a job or a relationship, for example), we might feel that we have lost every connection to meaning. In these moments, allow the Levites to remind you, that you still have a voice, a persistent form of expression that is lasting, and ultimately a way to connect back with your sense of purpose.