Monday, May 12, 2014

Well, Bless You Too!

Parshat Bechukotai
Vayikra 26:3 – 27:34
17 Iyar 5774 / May 16 – 17, 2014

Well, Bless You Too!
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

In Parshat Bechukotai we learn about the rewards and punishments for following or abandoning the laws of the Torah. The picture of God that this portion paints is pretty harsh. “Listen to me, or else!” I continue to wonder why God, THE BEING OF ULTIMATE COMPASSION, would be so hell bent on people following all of God’s dictates. If a system is truly based on love, it follows in my own reasoning, that every little and minute detail is not what counts; rather it’s the relationship and closeness that matters. I think we all know pretty well that closeness cannot be mandated. Love has to be nurtured and cherished in order to be maintained and expanded.

While I fully believe in the statement above, I have to be honest. My decision to begin an observant Jewish practice began, in part, when I came across a verse from this portion. Verse 26:19 states the following punishment:

“I will make your heaven like iron and your land like copper.”

When I read this verse about 11 years ago, I looked at the sky and at the ground and I considered how the culture that I lived in was so obsessed with precious metals. Do we still see the sky and earth anymore, or do they just exist as potential resources or problems of production? My awareness of environmental maladies (drought, famine, ozone depletion) was growing, and I began to wonder if the Biblical curse had indeed manifested.

I also looked at my personal life. I was feeling confused about my life direction and basically down about who I was and the world around me. I felt like I had tried the traditional Western path of “dog eat dog” and found no peace. I decided at this point to try out the path of Torah and see how that would impact my life and the world around me.

It has been 11 years of ebb and flow Jewish practice. At times I feel more in line with Torah Judaism and at times I feel more distant. I continue to stay engaged in Jewish values and a Jewish way of being in the world. Part of my journey is a continuous refinement of how I can authentically live within the story that we call Judaism. Of course, after all the mitzvoth and prayers, the world is still obsessed with making money and there is still political unrest. The world outside of me has certainly not reached perfection, though I certainly have changed for the better.

While my first entry into Jewish practice might have been motivated by a threat and by fear, I am reaching more towards the approach of Love that I expect from this God of ours. We cannot start our spiritual life from the top of the mountain – with a perfect world, perfect self and perfect God. If this were the case, who would need spiritual engagement anyway? Religion does not make bad things disappear; however, I can change my attitude towards harsh reality through my religious  and spiritual involvement.

I tend to adopt the opinion that in the desert, the Jewish people were, in a way, like children. They needed a present and sometimes strict God to tell them what was right and good. In our own lives, we never fully outgrow this phase. There are times, especially in trying times, when it is very helpful to have an exact procedure to follow. And, just as true, as we mature, we need to take more personal ownership of our life path and be allowed to do things our own way and to even make mistakes. The curses and the blessings were probably awesome for Jews in the desert, and are probably helpful for Jews like us, though only sometimes.    

Today, when I look to the heavens, I see the beauty of the clouds and the majesty of the stars. The expansive land that supports me is diverse and naturally breathtaking. May we only need to see the world as a place of blessing and never as a curse.

Monday, May 5, 2014

Value beyond Money

Parshat BeHar
Vayikra 25:1 – 26:2
10 Iyar 5774 / May 9-10, 2014

In Parshat Behar we are not only told to rest on the seventh day of the week, but according to this week’s Torah Portion, Behar, we have to let the land rest every seven years. We also learn about a 50 year cycle where all bets are off and all contracts cancelled. Read on for some more thoughts on this week's Torah portion.


Many blessings!
Zvi

Value beyond Money
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ


In this week's Torah portion we dive deeper into the concept of Shabbat. The Torah commands that every seventh year will be a year of rest for the land. This means that farmers take a whole year where they do not actively work their land, and basically, everything that grows wild is for the use of whoever might pass by. The bounty of the land cannot be collected and sold for monetary gains, rather the produce is considered above monetary value. All who are hungry and are in need of food, can come and eat. This seventh year is called the Shmita Year, and you can learn more about it and its relevance to life today at the following site: http://hazon.org/shmita-project/overview/

What I am thinking about is how awesome it is to translate the Shmita concept to the world of work today and the power of volunteering. Imagine you were asked to spend a full year at your current job (whether you are in a job, or spending time preparing for one in school) not getting paid, but rather volunteering. People would still benefit from the fruits of your labor, though you would not receive a paycheck. In this little exercise, let's say you were able to save up for your basic needs from the year before. My question is, what would motivate you to do your current job if it was not for the paycheck (or for the expected paycheck if you are in school/preparation phase?) Would passion drive you? A sense of self-worth? Community? Fun? Would you find nothing rewarding beyond a paycheck, and take off?

The concept of Shmita reminds me that there is no objective monetary value on the fruits of my labor. It pushes me to consider what I really value about my work in the world, and if that is fullfilling beyond a way to make money. Making money is great, though it is not enough to buy sustaining happiness. My grandmother always says, "Money isn't everything, but it's 50% of everything." This week, I invite you to contemplate that other 50% in what you do.

Monday, April 28, 2014

Parshat Emor
Vayikra 21:1 - 24:23
3 Iyar 5774 / May 2 - 3, 2014

Keeping Difficult Decisions Difficult
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

How do you go about making tough decisions? What information do you gather? Who do you consult? Where do you go for the clarification of values and ethics that allows you to choose one course of action over another, even when all choices are not perfect? When I read the final section of this week’s Torah portion these questions come to my mind.

Even today, people pay with their lives in response to seeking increased liberties. And each nation’s government has to make a decision if, and how, they should get involved in foreign conflicts. They often respond with military action that includes killing and supporting. The lines between enemy and civilian are blurred. The lines between helping and intruding also become blurred.

What about in our own communities? How do we punish behaviors and what does our reaction say about the kind of community that we are trying to establish? In Chapter 24 in the Book of Vayikrah (verses 10 – 23), we are told a story about a man who publicly curses God’s name. The people do not know what to do, so they take him to Moshe who locks him up. Moshe consults God who commands that this man must be stoned to death, AND in the same breath God says,

“And a man – if he strikes mortally any human life, he shall be put to death.” (24:17)    

Now hold it there God. You just told us to kill this guy because he cursed You and now you seem to be saying if we listen to You and put him to death, we will be put to death too. What to do? A tough decision indeed!

This week, I understand this conundrum as saying: There is always a consequence to perpetuating violence. Death will always lead to more death – even if you have a good justified reason to do so. It seems to me that when we make a decision to go to war (figuratively, against ourselves, or another person, or literally, against an entire nation) we think only about the immediate effect of stopping whatever behavior we do not agree with. This story about the blasphemer widens my perspective to think about how violent action will inevitably lead to further violent action. I think history has proven this time and time again. I am not necessarily advocating for complete pacifism. I think this Portion is offering a reminder that the question to kill should always be a difficult one. If you can so easily agree with bloodshed, it might mean that you have ceased to see the other as a living person, like yourself. If we have lost our ability to recognize humanity, we can never create a humane world.

I hope that while the governments and armies of the globe are keeping peace within the model that is currently functioning, we Moisheniks – people living all over the world – are doing our part to educate against stereotypes, are learning deeply about the real issues from the perspective of the people facing them, and are innovating models of working for peace through peaceful means.

Monday, April 14, 2014

True Freedom, U Freedom

Shabbat PesachSh’mot 33:12 – 34:26
19 Nissan 5774 / April 18 – 19, 2014
Pesach begins tonight! And tomorrow night we start to count the Omer. On Shabbat Pesach, we take a break from the regular Parshiot cycle to read a portion that is more thematically in tune with the holiday. This weekend we jump backward in the Bible, to the book of Sh’mot. The Israelites have just committed the sin of the Golden Calf (oops!) and we find Moshe on Mt. Sinai pleading with God for a deeper personal revelation and for communal repentance. I  think the Parsha lends to thinking about the deeper meaning of Pesach, and that is what my D’var Torah below is about. Read on for further learning.
Many blessings!
Zvi
True Freedom, U Freedomby Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

    On Passover we are told to refrain from eating anything that is leavened, or puffed up. Breads, bagels, muffins, certain cereals, and for some of us, beans and rice, are all placed under this category of food that is called chametz. Most of us know that the reason that we eat Matzah, or flat bread, is to remember that when the Jews were leaving Egypt, they had to rush out and did not have time for their bread to rise, thus they ate un-leavened bread. As Rabbis tend to do, they got concerned that eating seemingly leavened products would lead to eating actual leavened bread, so they created a radical edict to spend the entire holiday not eating anything that even slightly resembles leavened bread.
               Another way to understand this practice is to think about what Passover represents and how this special diet might help the attunement of our awareness. Before the original Passover, the Jewish people and Jewish identity was stuck in a particular mode – that of slavery. We worked in harsh conditions for the Egyptians, gaining nothing from the sweat of our brow. Our relationship with God was also stagnated as the Deity of individual ancestors whose memory we had to connect through. Suddenly, there came time for a big change. We were going to be shifting, warp-speed, from oppressed workers to a boundless independent nation. If we stopped for a moment to think about that, we probably would lose faith, and say, “Helk no! I ain’t going nowhere!” And if you take a peek into the Torah narrative, when the Jews stop to rest in the desert, they begin to complain for the life they had in Egypt.
               So matzah represents the Band-Aid (or plaster) that was yanked quickly off the wound of an enslaved identity. When we eat matzah, or more importantly, when we refrain from eating chametz and chametz-related foods, we are symbolically recreating this obliteration of the usual story and identity that we carry around. All for the purpose, I remind you, of receiving a newer and more liberated sense of self. Thus, we jaggedly cut out all the foods that are “filled with hot air,” and allow our egos to deflate. Of course, quick change does not equal lasting change. For this reason, we begin to count the Omer until Shavuot, which represents a more thoughtful and comprehensive transformation from slave to free-person.
               For some of us, we might not connect with the idea of cutting out bread on Pesach. I would strongly recommend trying out the traditional practice in small doses, but I think there are other ways to enhance this dramatic shift in our inner-selves.
1.       You might try another way of playing with diet. Perhaps Passover is a good time for a juice fast, or cutting out sugars, or other things that make you “high and inflated.”
2.       You can make a list of, “Things I would do if I was truly free,” and then see how close you are to enacting these things. Perhaps there are a few that you should still refrain from.
3.       Perhaps there is part of your name that you do not identify with – your middle name, or Hebrew name. You might spend the week introducing yourself with a new name and reclaiming your relationship with it.
4.       Maybe there is a new Jewish practice that you want to try out that might enhance the way you live. Meditation, daily prayer, or lighting candles on Shabbat are all tools that free us from our normal way of doing and being.
5.       Play with the seder to make it more meaningful. Introduce your own poems and personal stories of oppression and liberation. According to the Haggadah, you have to say the following three words: PESACH, MATZAH, and MARROR. The rest just might be commentary.
So however we fill our bellies (and hearts and minds) this Pesach, I bless us that we can experience a new and deeper understanding of what it means to be free. And that we should see freedom blossom in those places where freedom seems stifled.

Many blessings,
Zvi

Monday, April 7, 2014

Choose Life Itself!

Acharei Mot (Shabbat Hagadol)Leviticus 16:1 - 18:30
12 Nisan 5774 / April 11-12, 2014

Choose Life Itself!
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

This portion is named Acharei Mot, meaning After Death, and it takes us back to, “the death of the two sons of Aaron who died when they drew too close to the presence of the Lord.” (Vayikra, 16:1). God teaches the children of Israel the proper way in which the High Priest, Aaron at the time, can draw close to the Lord without dying. The ritual is complex, with specific vestments, time frames, sacrifices, and intentions. Ultimately, for the Judaism of today, the ritual presented in this portion becomes the basis for our Yom Kippur service. We no longer carry out the specific ritual mentioned, though we draw from the reverence and responsibility that was given to the High Priest’s actions on that specific day.

As I reflect on this, the name of this portion, After Death, rings out to me. Our (mystical) tradition has a lot to say about what happens after we die - heaven & hell (gehenom), reincarnated souls, the Messianic world to come - but the Torah itself is generally silent about this (post) existential topic. Is there some teaching here for us about after we die? Is there a connection with the Yom Kippur ritual? And, since Pesach is right around the corner, how does this teaching connect to the themes of liberation?

There are similarities between the process of dying and the Yom Kippur ritual described in this portion. The process of the Priest washing his body and dressing in white linen clothing. And the fact that Aaron must carry out this ritual all by himself - a reminder that ultimately we are responsible for our own lives and that we die alone. This is a trepidatious moment in the text and in our lives, though the text continues. Aaron steps behind the veil of the sanctuary, perhaps a metaphor for stepping behind the veil of the life. What does Aaron do in the sanctuary? He performs his greatest act of service. He atones for the entire community of Israel, wiping clean any shortcomings that may have become evident over the course of the year. It is as if Aaron is given the power to turn back time, returning the Israelites to a state of absolute purity.       

Looking at Aaron’s journey on Yom Kippur as a metaphor for after death, I get to ask the question, What if? What if the Torah is hinting to us that our work in the world does not end with our physical bodies? What if the work we do when we are alive is nothing in comparison to the impact we have after we die? I think about Martin Luther King Jr., Hannah Senesh, Rosa Parks, Abraham Joshua Heschel. People whose legacies last beyond a single lifetime. It greatly mattered who these people were in their lives, and the work they did daily, because they created the possibility to continue to transform the world without their physical presence. Similarly, Aaron’s crucial daily role in the community as the High Priest, enabled him to have such tremendous influence beyond the veil on Yom Kippur.

Today the Torah is reminding me that being alive is about setting the stage for how I influence and inspire others in this lifetime and beyond this lifetime.  Perhaps it is not so important to understand what happens to my individual consciousness when I die, but it is important to consider how my life will continue to impact the world even after I die. The Torah teaches me that I cannot separate living for today from today’s influence on eternity.
How does this connect with Pesach and the theme of liberation? Freedom is manifested in our choice to be responsible for the lives that we live. If everyone was free to just do whatever they wanted, there would be no room for actual freedom. Considering the after death teaching of Yom Kippur - that I live with the intention of impacting the world beyond my individual life - creates a greater sense of freedom. I am not bound by my physical body in terms of my service and purpose of being alive. My essence is not narrowly constricted between one breath to the next.  Also, there is ultimate freedom in being able to choose an infinite amount of responsibility to life itself, rather than one life, or even to several generations of life. Considering the choice to be responsible to life itself creates a clear sense of freedom for me. How about for  you?  

Monday, March 31, 2014

Parshat Metzorah
Vayikra 14:1 – 15:33
5 Nisan 5774 / April 4 – 5, 2014



The Blessing of the Living Bird
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ



I find the ritual for cleaning the person afflicted with Tzara’at simply strange. Essentially, the Kohen takes two birds. He kills one bird and lets the blood drip into a clay pot with water. Then he takes the second still living bird and dips it into the water/blood mixture of the first bird. He sprinkles the blood that is covering the live bird on the newly cleansed person and then sets the live bird free.  

I am not really sure what to make of this. But I wanted to highlight this ritual as I enjoy taking note of some of the bizarre practices that we have at our roots. I sometimes see Yogic community members walking around in orange or yellow robes, with their little bells and thin pony-tails sprouting from the top of their heads, and I think, “Hmmm…That is strange.”

If I was able to time travel back to the days of the Jewish people in the desert, or early Palestine, I would probably shout with fright and feel uneasy with the lavish dressing of the Priests, the uber-posh décor of the Temple, and the bloody worship rituals. It does make me feel less judgmental about other people’s practices when I think how strange Jewish people must have looked (and at times, still look) to outsiders.  

There is something in this ritual though, that I really love. I feel joy when the Torah tells us that the live bird is set free. It is like ourselves and our souls. The live bird has experienced the trauma of witnessing and experiencing pain and suffering. It has been bloodied and shaken by outside forces, yet that was all temporary. It is able to spread its wings again and live on to experience new adventures, new sorrows and new joys.

I would like to bless us with the blessing of this living free bird. May we be able to acknowledge the pain and sorrow of the world and continue to find the strength to spread our wings and soar. 

Monday, March 24, 2014

Living into Transitions

Parshat Tazria
VaYikra 12:1-13:59
5774 Adar II 27 / March 28-29, 2014



Living into Transitions
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

Our parsha begins with seemingly archaic laws for new mothers:

VaYikra, Chapter 12
1 The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: 2 Speak to the Israelite people thus: When a woman at childbirth bears a male, she shall be t’meah seven days; she shall be t’meah as at the time of menstruation. — 3 On the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised. — 4 She shall remain in a state of blood purification for thirty-three days: she shall not touch any consecrated thing, nor enter the sanctuary until her period of purification is completed. 5 If she bears a female, she shall be t’meah two weeks as during her menstruation, and she shall remain in a state of blood purification for sixty-six days.

This passage begs a few questions for me:
1. Why should giving birth be something that is t’meah (usually translated as impure)?
2. Why is there a difference between boy and girl babies?
3. What does it mean to purify one’s blood?
4. What is the message for me today?

Let’s see how we do with some answers.

1. T’meah is ususally translated as impure, but when we look at the nuances of being tameh, we see that it is a category that says that someone is experiencing something physical which puts them in between the states of healthy and unhealthy, between life and death. When someone is in that state, the practice in ancient times was to separate them from the community - giving them time for respite and healing. In some cases, it would require soul-searching to consider if the person’s actions brought on the affliction, and for other times, as in childbirth, it was just a separation, with no judgement implied. We can all agree that in ancient times (and today too) having a baby was a great risk to the mother, and some time away from the responsibilities of the community to replenish and heal seems like a good idea.

2. So why the difference between a baby boy and a baby girl. When I read the parsha this time around I was reminded of Early Attachment Theory. The first few weeks of life require great attention from a primary caregiver in order for a baby to develop physically, emotional, mentally, and spiritually. It is amazing how important that early bond is between parent and child. Having space where mom has uninterrupted time with her newborn seems completely wise. In ancient times, community survival depended on the adoption of clear gender roles. In some ways, in modern times, we still depend on clear gender roles, though to an ever lessening extent (Amen!). Given the need for gender role training, and how early newborns begin to pick up on the way their assigned gender is supposed to act, it seems wise for mom to have an extended amount of time with her daughter to steep her new daughter in the presence of womanhood. Boy babies could more quickly join the world of men to begin their gender training.

3. I want to read that blood purification here is the healing that a new mom needs. At childbirth, a new mom experiences blood loss, and her body needs time to rest and regain strength. There is a spiritual teaching that when a baby is born, the mother experiences a spiritual emptiness and time is needed for her to feel a sense of wholeness again. This fits well with the prevalence of postpartum depression that women experience after giving birth. We see a connection between the loss of blood, the birth of the baby, and the need for the new mother to reconfigure to her new role - caring for the baby that is no longer a growing part inside of her body. Perhaps this process of holistic healing is blood purification.

4. Message for me today - Reflecting on the themes above gives me new insight and inquiry into the needs of new parents. Does our society create the proper space needed for new parents to successfully move from expecting parents to actual parents? Also, do I give myself the space needed to step into new stages of life - new jobs, new relationships, deaths, births? Every transition, even happy ones like childbirth, contain a vulnerable period that can be navigated with attention and compassion in order to step into that next stage of life with greater hope and clarity.