Monday, November 26, 2012
Shabbat Vayishlach
Genesis
32:4-36:43
17
Kislev 5771 / November 30- Dec. 1, 2012
MY NAME IS… WHAT? MY NAME IS…
WHO?
by Rabbi Dan Horwitz, MH Director of Immersive Learning
by Rabbi Dan Horwitz, MH Director of Immersive Learning
“What
is your name?” – Genesis 32:28
“A
good name is preferable to great riches…” – Proverbs 22:1
In
this week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach, we find
Jacob preparing for a potentially dangerous reunion with his bother Esau (whose
birthright and paternal blessing Jacob had taken). Jacob splits his camp into two (lest
everyone should be wiped out upon an attack), and sends gifts via courier to
his brother, hoping to quell Esau’s anticipated anger.
The
night before the encounter, Jacob separated himself from his camp and his
family.
“Jacob
was left alone... and a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn.” - Genesis
32:25
This
is the well-known story of Jacob wrestling with an angel.
At
the end of the struggle, having been defeated, the angel wished to
depart. Jacob refused to
let the angel leave until he gave Jacob a blessing. The first thing the angel did was to
ask a simple question to Jacob:
"What is your name?"
It
is important to remember that while this question may sound simple to us, to
Jacob, it carried a lot of weight. The
last time Jacob was asked this question,
he answered falsely, saying “I am Esau” in order to steal his brother’s
paternal blessing from Isaac. This
time, Jacob redeems himself by answering the angel’s question truthfully,
saying “I am Jacob.”
At
this point, the angel gives Jacob
the new name “Israel” (which translates roughly to “having prevailed over the
Divine”), blesses him, and departs.
The
ancient rabbis have different opinions as to the role this angel played. Some felt the angel was acting maliciously toward Jacob, as Jacob was physically injured in the
scuffle, while others contend that
the angel was not evil, as struggling with the angel and defeating him gave
Jacob the confidence to face Esau the next day. My personal take is that the angel and
the accompanying struggle represent how we as human beings wrestle with our
shortcomings and misdeeds, and our potential to overcome them.
Our
Jewish tradition makes clear that having a “good name” – better understood as a
“good reputation” – is priceless. We
find this, for example, in our texts (see the Proverbs quote above), as well as
in our rabbinic commentaries, such as those admonishing people who speak badly
about others (using negative speech commonly referred to as “lashon harah”). Jacob was far from perfect in his
actions, and as a result, his name and reputation at the time may not have been
the greatest. Jacob was
deceptive towards his father and took advantage of his hungry brother. Jacob’s reputation was certainly not
one that Esau and his community would have found favorable.
Jacob’s
name change to Israel signified a rebirth of sorts. It provided him with the confidence to
confront his brother the next day as “a new man,” and with the ability to leave
his misdeeds in the past and move forward. It also provides us as Jews with the
comfort of knowing that for millennia we have been known as the “Children of
Israel,” rather than as the “Children of Jacob,” so that our reputation as a
nation would not be tainted throughout the generations.
What
is your name? What does it
mean to you? Who are you
named for, if anyone?
What
associations do you hope others make when they hear your name?
When
it comes time for someone to offer your eulogy, what do you hope s/he will say?
We
are all imperfect (despite what your mother may tell others about you). We all have struggles, make mistakes,
and take actions that have the ability to harm others and tarnish our own
reputations. But when given
the opportunity to improve, like Jacob, we need to seize it.
Just
as Jacob wrestled with the angel, so too do we have the ability to wrestle with
our own misdeeds, to come clean, to prevail over our own shortcomings, and to
build reputations befitting of those as blessed as we are.
This
Shabbat, take some time to reflect on your name, on some of your own perceived shortcomings,
on what you want others to be saying about you once you’re gone and the actions
you can take to help make it so.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Shabbat VaYetzeh
Bereishit 28:10 – 32:3
10 Kislev 5773 / Nov. 23 – 24, 2012
Bereishit 28:10 – 32:3
10 Kislev 5773 / Nov. 23 – 24, 2012
What’s in a Name?
by Rebecca Karp, East
Coast Regional Director
Oftentimes, in my
conversations about Moishe House, someone will ask me, “Why Moishe?” People
come up with all kinds of explanations as to why our organization has its name,
and in part, each of those explanations has some truth. The story that I have
always heard, however, is that the parents of one of the original funders of
Moishe House called him “Moishe” when he was little. Simple as that. Or is it?
For me, the labels we
prescribe to something add context and meaning for each of us in a way that is
unique to our experience. Not only that, but no two explanations of a
particular event will ever be identical, nor should they be. We each bring our
unique perspectives of the way we see the world to our experiences.
Much in the way that
this funder named our organization, evoking a sense or a feeling or perhaps
even a prescription for how Moishe House would look, feel and interact with the
world, this parsha is full of people naming things – inanimate
objects, children, land, etc.
Ya’akov, after falling
asleep and dreaming of the angels going up and down a ladder and G~d declaring
the prophecy of his descendants, wakes up and names the place Beit El,
literally the Abode of G~d.
Once Ya’akov’s wives
start having children, the naming abounds. Leah’s first son, Reuven, comes
from Re’u Vein, meaning to see the difference. This
works as prophecy and contrast to Ya’akov’s own relationship to his brother
Esau and Reuven’s relationship to his brother Yosef.
Yehuda’s name means to
be thankful or grateful to G~d – showing hoda’a, or gratitude. Dan
comes from the root word meaning judgment; din. Issachar has the
root for reward, sachar, and so on. Yosef, the firstborn son
between Rachel and Ya’akov, comes from assaf, to add on, adding the
number of sons Ya’akov had and adding a firstborn for Rachel.
After Laban and
Ya’akov part ways, they meet again and make a pact. To call this pact into
existence, they each gather stones into a mound and name the place
Gal-eid. Gal means mound, while eid means
witness. This mound, which serves as a witness between Laban and Ya’akov, is
named just that.
The final naming of
the parsha occurs after Laban and Ya’akov have parted and
Ya’akov and his family go on their way. It is said that angels of G~d
encountered them and when he sees the angels, Ya’akov says, “this is G~d’s
camp”, or, in Hebrew, “machane elokim” and he names the
place machana’im, G~d’s camp.
Not only do the names
of Rachel and Leah’s sons provide insights into the minds and emotions of the
mothers naming them, they also serve as prescriptions for how these men
will/should behave throughout their lives. Names or labels have weight,
carrying with them expectations and history.
If we look at the
stories of our patriarchs and matriarchs as the lifecycle of the birth of a
nation, Israel, then this is about the time when “we” are learning to speak –
we’re toddlers, if you will. Toddlers walk around, point to things and evoke
them into being by pointing and calling out their title. “Tree” as they point
excitedly to an oak. “Cup” as they take a sip from a vessel their mother handed
them. “Sun” as they look up into the sky at the big round ball of light.
“Hungry” as they rub their belly and look for something to eat. “Home” as they
point to the house where they know they sleep, and their parents sleep as well.
It is as if, only after uttering its title, do these things, emotions and
places truly step into existence.
The beauty of this
naming is that it can be unique for every individual. Moishe House can mean a
place of strong social justice work, canvassing for human rights issues and
educating about policy reform. Moishe House can mean a home where everyone is
always welcome; there are cold drinks in the fridge and something to snack on
in the pantry. Moishe House can mean weekly Torah study and the glow of the
Shabbat candles every Friday night. And it can also mean various combinations
of all of those things. We have the opportunity to call into being our own
unique experiences with the “name” Moishe House.
As we go through our
lives, may we feel both the responsibility of the prescription of things that
are named for us and the freedom and power to create a name for ourselves. You
may have been given a name, but it’s what you do with it that really matters.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Parshat Toldot
Bereshit 25:19 – 28:9
3 Kislev 5773 / Nov. 16 – 17, 2012
Bereshit 25:19 – 28:9
3 Kislev 5773 / Nov. 16 – 17, 2012
An Evil Twin is Born
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ
I believe that this Parsha contains one of the
earliest recorded existential conflicts. Here is the scene (Bereshit Chapter
25).
Esav, a young burly red-headed hunter returns from a strenuous hunt. He did not find any prey on this particular day and is feeling very hungry. He walks into his home and smells something delicious. An aromatic red lentil stew, his younger brother’s special recipe, is simmering on the fire. Esav wants some of that soup!
Esav: Pour into me some of the red-stuff for I
am exhausted!
Yaacov: You want my soup? Trade me your status
as the first-born!
Esav: Well, I am going to die anyway, so
of what use to me is a birthright?
Esav swears his first-born birthright over to
his little brother. (Yep they are twins, but Esav came out first. If you know
twins, or are a twin, the fact that one came out first can be quite an
issue!)And the rest is history – the children of Yaacov and the children of
Esav become eternal archetypal enemies. Not so wonderful!
Growing up I always learned about Esav as the
“evil twin.” He terrorized his brother and was stupid to sell his birthright –
he got the “short end of the stick” that what was coming to him. This year, the
response of Esav really jumped out at me in a way that I could very much
relate.
“Well, I am going to die anyways, so of what
use to me is a birthright?”
Personally, I ebb and flow in my ability to
see the world as a meaningful place and thus my engagement in the world also
can sometimes feel void of purpose. Experiencing life as meaningful takes
practice and is not a simple given. The narrative of Yaacov and Esav seems to
take place in their adolescence. Can we actually condemn a teenager for stating
the obvious truth – Nothing lasts forever, so why should I strive for success?
Think back to when you were a teen (or maybe just last Tuesday), it is quite
natural to wrestle with this perspective.
So was Esav a boor or just someone who tended
towards existential conflicts of meaning? Being a hunter, Esav knows that the
world can seem quite random. On the hunt, you win some, you lose some. There is
not an exact reason why a swooping bird catches this rodent and not the one
next to it. Perhaps Esav, in that moment was taken by this fact – even with a
G-d in the world, things seem to just happen.
Introducing the perspective of the existential
into this portion we see a dichotomy between a “Yaacov way” of looking at the
world and an “Esav way” of looking at the world. On the one hand the world is
full of meaning that lasts beyond the life of one individual. The blessings
from the past generations impact the present, and the actions of those in the
present will shape the direction of the future. On the other hand, we are stuck
in the finiteness of life. There is no continuity in the random unfolding of
one generation to the next – Who will die, who will live? Who will be
remembered? Who will be forgotten?
Un/fortunately, I think about these topics way to much (www.meaningthroughebing.com) and here is my short
answer to this complicated dilemma. Both perspectives are absolutely valid (and
there are many positions in between!) We can become skillful in knowing when to
embrace the meaningfulness of a moment versus when we might tone down our own
self-importance. For example, when your commitment at work results in the decay
of your social relationships – it is time to evaluate the real meaning of your
work. On the contrary, if you are having trouble making a decision, you might
tap into your passions and intentions and remember that to live fully is to
make choices that appear meaningful in a particular moment.
This week, I feel bad for Esav. Not only does he struggle to see
his life as meaningful, but his shallow self-esteem is affirmed by his parents
choosing his younger brother over him. We see that this begins a chain reaction
whereby he chooses a wife that will specifically antagonize his father (28:9).
His father, Isaac, was once Esav’s biggest fan. I want to suggest that this
Parsha teaches us an important lesson about how we can affirm or aggravate the
sense of meaning of another person. As we see in
the story of Esav, it can be the meaning of those closest to us that are
impacted most deeply by our actions and attitudes towards them.
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