Vayeitzei

Disclaimer: The world is a depressing place. And this is a semi-depressing parsha. Unless you're an optimist in which case this parsha is full of weddings and babies and Godly interactions. But that's not me.

We start out the parsha with Yaakov's journey to Haran and we hear about his wrestling match with an angel in which Yaakov is renamed "Yisrael" or "struggles with God." From here the struggling only grows more intense. Of course we know about the trials and tribulations of Leah and her weak eyes from all her crying. We know she isn't the favored wife and her seemingly never ending child bearing doesn't even seem to cheer her up that much. She's constantly comparing herself to her sister and attempting to gain dominance with her ability to produce male children. But surely Rachel's story is much happier? Sure, she doesn't have any children until the very end (even then only a modest number of two boys)..but Yaakov loves her from the second he sees her.

Rashi brings down from the midrash that Yaakov wept when he saw Rachel because he foresaw that she was going to be buried separately from him. Later in the parsha we find out why Rachel receives this destiny (according to the midrash as cited by Rashi). If we read the parsha through the lenses of the midrash we are constantly haunted by the knowledge that Rachel is going to die and she won't have the honor of being buried with the others in Hevron.

Struggle, struggle, struggle. That's like 90% of this week's parsha. However, it can't be that bad. We are all descendants of Yaakov so his struggles must have been important. For the first time in my life I went to Kever Rachel (on Erev Sukkot). There I read the Tikkun Rachel which is one of the most horrifying things I've ever read in my life..full of talk of destruction and exile. When I looked around I saw a lot of women in pain. I don't know any of their stories or why they were there but one could feel the collective grief in the room. Being a part of Am YISRAEL means being human. It means living in a world where we'll struggle and sometimes fail. But to have those struggles and still turn to Hashem and trust that it will all work out the way it is supposed to is what it really means to be a Jew.
That and bagels and lox (unless you're Sephardi).

Toledot

Parshas Toledos. Stam. I’m not that yeshivish/yeshivish even a little bit. I pronounce “Tav” like a “T”...most of the time.

Looks like I started this post off track. Bli neder, I’ll make a point about this week’s parsha at some point. And fill in awkward silences with my worldly observations.

Take two: Parshat Toledot. Upon my first readthrough of the parsha I came across (what I thought was) a brilliant observation; Rivka not only talks to HaKadosh BaruchHu all by herself but she is also answered by him! Women don’t get a lot of one on one time with HaShem and it takes quite a bit of courage to initiate such an encounter in the male dominated field of prophecy. Yet, there it is. Rivka demands to know why she is struggling so much in her pregnancy and HaShem answers that she is bearing twins..the futures of two very different nations are battling it out in her womb. Not only is she carrying twins but she even gets to know that the second born (Yaakov) will be the rightful successor of her husband Yitzchak. That’s amazing, I thought. Such an amazing encounter between HaShem and a woman will surely have volumes written about. Rivka must have been the first prophetess or something.

Oh..yes. Our sages have plenty to say about Rivka’s holy inquiry but it is not nearly as positive as I had thought it would be. Both the Maharal and the Netziv point out that Rivka inquired of HaShem behind her husband’s back. That she felt fear/awe of her husband and did not feel she could tell Yitzchak the truth. Which of course sets up the end of the parsha where Rivka helps Yaakov trick Yitzchak into receiving the first born blessings.

“If only Rivka was just honest with Yitzchak so much of the misunderstanding could have been avoided!” Yes. That is a cheap and easy point to be made using this understanding. HOWEVER, I do not wish to go there. First of all, I trust our matriarchs and patriarchs and the word of the Torah is holy. So I’m not about to condemn any of our holy ancestors. Or pretend like I am on their level and can understand their motivations. Everything happened the way it did for a reason. Using the Maharal and Netziv’s interpretations, however, does help teach a lesson. A lesson in understanding that emotional intelligence and rational action aren’t necessarily so easy to balance. Both are equally valid and should be respected and understood. There is a false dichotomy that things either “make sense” or don’t. That’s not quite how it works. There are many ways to see the world. Maybe if Rivka did what “made sense” she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to speak directly to HaShem. We weren’t given emotional reactions so that we could just ignore them...trust me. I’ve tried. That generally doesn’t end well. There are Rivkas and there are Yitzchaks in the world. Both serve HaShem and in different ways. As long as we’re following Torah and turning to HaShem (or his Sages as the midrash says is actually meant by Rivka’s encounter with the divine) then we’re free to listen to our inner truths as well.

Or something.

Ki Tisa

Ki Tisa is both one of the most important and one of the most problematic parshiot in the history of parshiot. At least, in my humble opinion. We start out by getting some more overly detailed instructions on how to build the mishkan, Moshe goes up Mt. Sinai to get the commandments, people build a golden calf, Moshe comes down, breaks the tablets, then needs to go back up for new ones, more mishkan instructions. That’s the gist.

I didn’t get it. I spent all week feeling annoyed and angry at the parsha. I read it over and over again trying to figure something out. God didn’t make sense to me. Moshe kinda made sense, and the I totally was on board with the golden calf idea. Having heard the golden calf story many times prior to this (and never thinking about in any depth), I was very aware that I am supposed to feel the opposite. It made sense to me that the people felt alone and needed some replacement. It’s like a kid with absent parents trying to adopt the closest adults as replacement parent-like figures. I used to do that all the time. I still do. It’s an understandable mistake on their part. God and Moshe maybe should have understood the reality of human nature better and calmed down about the whole thing. Instead they both got angry, threatened (and followed through with) mass murder, and broke things.

My feelings were troubling (as they often are, I’m a bit of a wreck). I read some commentaries and nothing was helping. Until I read an essay in Frameworks comparing the mishkan to the calf. The essay argued that the mishkan and the calf served similar roles; a physical manifestation of something beyond normal human experience. Humans need physicality and passion and lust. Godliness doesn’t work that way so we need a lesser form that we can more readily understand. God knew this and instructed us in a way we can achieve this. When Moshe went up to Mt. Sinai they took this idea into their own hands and built the golden calf. Having a physical, base way to serve hashem is not inherently wrong; it was the way in which we went about it. God commands us; not the other way around. When God instructed us in the ways of the mishkan, he was catering to our needs. When we decided to take the idea of worship and service to God into our own hands…that’s where the problem is. God DOES understand us and does what we need. It’s when we try to impose ourselves and our views onto God that we have a problem.

I feel better about this parsha now. I don’t exactly support mass murder of well meaning (although totally misguided) people…but I’m not God. Shouldn’t impose my misguided but well-meaning views either. So, let us all learn from their mistakes. 

Tetzaveh

Tetzaveh is probably an unfortunate choice of parsha to restart this blog with…but I am having a momentary lapse of nostalgia and wanted to see this thing up and running again. Six months is a long enough break. I will TRY and not wait six more months until the next one. Key word=try. Quitting things seems to be my main hobby. Anyways, I’ll attempt to make this parsha semi interesting.

We get to hear all about the kohanim and their special clothes. That’s literally the entire parsha. Actually that’s not true. We also get told about special Kohen jobs and Hashem commands all of Israel to keep the menorah light burning. Presumably the commands are being told to Moshe although Moshe’s name is missing throughout.

I could make something up about the importance of clothing or something. While perusing the usual commentaries that seemed to be the only thing people could come up. Instead I’ll just broaden the perspective. Broaden my perspective to the entire first two books of Tanach. I know…that’s cheating but I don’t care. It’s my blog.

A few days ago, I heard a shiur on Yaakov’s final “blessings” to his sons. We had a conversation about the role of brotherhood throughout all of breishit and each story is a small bit of rectification of the first brother story we read: Cain and Abel. We read about Isaac and Ishmael. Doesn’t end so well. Jacob and Esau…rocky, at best. Joseph and his many siblings; his siblings do sell him to slavery and ignore his pleas for help. But in the end they do teshuva and things are mostly okay.

Moshe and Aaron are the completion of that story. Two brothers that work in tandem with one another. Moshe receives the prophecies from Hashem and Aaron carries out the priestly duties. Without a prophet; there’s no instruction. Without the priest; there’s no functioning mishkan/temple/anything. And that’s exactly what Moshe’s instructed to do this week. Share responsibility with his brother. Spoiler alert: they end up working pretty well together. Aaron’s sons can’t say the same. But at least his sons go up in flames…together. On that morbid note: until next time. 

Re'eh

Re’eh

The parsha is called “seeing” which I thought was pretty cool. After the last couple weeks where we’ve been given a recap of what has happened after the Exodus from Egypt, this week we get an extended moral lesson on what is expected from the Jewish people (behavior-wise) as we finally prepare to enter Eretz Yisrael. What is it that we are seeing exactly? I like to think of the eyes as always looking forward and that’s exactly what is happening in this parsha. We’ve gone over the past and now it is time to set the groundwork for what exactly it means to a Jew living in the promised land.

So what do we learn about? We learn about kashrut. Kind of a big deal. Just how we eat which dictates our way of life as a people. We learn which animals are okay to eat and even where we should eat and how much to give as a sacrifice. Any observant Jew (that wasn’t previously observant) today can tell you how life changing keeping kosher is. Being mindful of the food that you put in your body is a 24/7 reminder of your commitment to Judaism. However, that wasn’t even the part of the parsha that I was most intrigued by…

This week we also learn how to behave towards fellow Jews. Moshe tells the people “Do not harden your heart or shut your hand against your brother the destitute. Rather you must open your hand repeatedly.” The context here is in reference to giving charity but there are other ordinances in this week’s parsha with a similar message; remember your fellow Jew and make sure they are all taken care of. Whether a Levite who has no inherited portion or a ger that you do not know. Even if you don’t trust him you must help him out if he is needy. What a principle! What other people have such moral obligations? It is a beautiful idea and would lead to a highly sympathetic and loving community… if it were actually followed.

What I see in the Jewish community is not just “community” but rather “communities” which isn’t always a bad thing. People are capable of having different thoughts about everything. The problem is that there is such mistrust and even hatred between the communities. We exclude each other, even sometimes hate each other so much as to turn our backs on a particular group and/or hope that something bad happens to them to justify our own thoughts. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying I have all the answers on how varying groups of people can love and accept each other. I’m not even saying that I don’t hold reservations and prejudices against certain Jews. However, if we all worked to love every Jew for exactly who he is then think of what a community we could be, think of all that we could accomplish together. That was the original idea so maybe we can all work towards it even if it seems unrealistic and difficult. 

Eikev

Hashem would appear to be telling us this week that IF we observe the mitzvoth and act like good Jews THEN he will take care of us. IF we don’t, THEN we will have hard times (to put it lightly). Personally, I don’t subscribe to a systems of rewards and punishments as a motivator to do anything. If you instill in a child that the only reason to do well in school is to get a good grade then they won’t be learning for the sake of learning…they will learn only how to get good grades. Or if you tell them not do something for fear of punishment they will do the minimum in order to avoid punishment…not a good system. So you see how maybe this week’s parsha was a little off putting for me.

However, Rashi helped me out because he had a similar problem. Instead of reading “Eikev” as consequence, one could read it to mean “heel” (as in Yaakov who fell at the heels of Esau). How does reading “heel” help us at all? What a good question. Rashi explains it in a way I understood: basically Hashem wants us to pay attention even to the most minor of mitzvoth (the heels). To pay attention to these seemingly minor mitzvoth will lead to our spiritual fulfillment. Now that is an idea I can get behind.

It’s something that I struggle with…these minor commandments. I can get through life being nice to people, giving to charity, loving my neighbor, blah blah blah. However, for the life of me, I can’t seem to wash my hands before I eat bread every single time. Or really ever say blessings over food when it isn’t hamotzi at a big group meal or Shabbat or something. There are another million little things that I don’t do that I’m actively aware of but just choose not to for reasons of laziness or discomfort or WHATEVER excuse I use. I justify it in my head as being unnecessary. I understand why I need to be nice to my neighbor…it makes sense to me. The world would be a wonderful place if we were all kind and gentle and understanding toward one another. But what difference does it make if I bless the water I’m drinking??? Truthfully, I don’t know. I’ve heard beautiful answers/justifications but they still don’t push me to do it. And maybe this week’s parsha is telling me to. Just because I don’t necessarily understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t important. I don't understand 99.9 percent of anything. Hashem has probably got a better idea than I do. I’ll let you know how my minor observance thing goes. I’ll experiment this week. It’s a process. 

Va’etchanan

As with last week (and the next several weeks worth of parshiyot), we are once again hearing a recounting of the books of BaMidbar and Shemot. However, the book of Devarim feels more like Moshe Rabbenu’s final recounting before he passes away rather than an objective narrative. It’s what I imagine most older people would do/would want to do before they die; leave their version of their life lessons and stories behind to both try and teach the next generation some lessons as well as to make their point of view known one last time.  

Sometimes older people say really ignorant and hurtful things. And they also don’t really understand technology or anything new. This leads to the assumption that the elderly are to be dismissed and not to be paid attention to. It’s an unfortunate trend in our society and one that I think this week’s parsha speaks to. Up to this point we had seen Moshe Rabbenu stumble and fall. We have seen him at his weakest and we see him have to heartbreakingly admit to his followers that after all this time leading them through the desert, he would not be allowed to enter Eretz Yisrael. Yet, his final recounting gets an entire book dedicated to it. The final book of the Chumash, no less. Moshe gets the actual final word according to Hashem. That’s kind of a big deal. Maybe the Torah is trying to tell us something. Just kidding. OBVIOUSLY it is.

Interestingly enough, in this week’s parsha we get the words to the Shema prayer. This is probably heretical to say…but I’m going to say it anyway. When I read through Sefer Devarim I can’t help but imagine Moshe Rabbenu as a grandfather type figure. In his final words he gives Am Yisrael the quintessential Jewish prayer that all Jews must recite twice a day and preferably before they die. He leaves behind the words that have kept and unified the Jewish people for thousands of years! Not all of us can aspire to do the same with our last words!

Maybe the elderly have some quirky things to say…but in the end they have seen and experienced more than anybody else. That counts for something. They have made many more mistakes than we have and they are human just like the rest of us. But it is important to keep in mind that in the final retellings of their lives, they just might have a special message for us; a message that we may never get to hear again so try to take it somewhat seriously.