Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Vayishlach

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This week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach, tells of Jacob wrestling with an angel, and receiving the name ‘Israel’.  The image of a person and an angel entangled with each other is both beautiful and empowering – and then the angel hits below the belt.  Needing to release himself, the angel targets Jacob’s thigh, injuring his sciatic nerve.  Jacob will bear the injury and the pain of it for the rest of his life.

Two opposite events are occurring simultaneously that night.  Jacob is being blessed with the name ‘Israel’, while at the same time he is being physically injured.  The blessing will grow through time, as his descendants learn of its meaning, but the injury will also grow, as Jacob ages and the pain progresses.  The positive and the negative are sitting side by side.

The Torah tells us of both events, and then tells us to remember them both in who we are and in what we do.  Jacob’s descendants are the Israelites, and today, all Jews know we are the nation, Israel.  At the same time, the Torah tells us we must refrain from eating any meat from the back half of an animal that might contain the relevant nerve.  It is not the meat that isn’t permitted, it’s the nerve.  The Torah has told us that as we bear the name of the blessing that was bestowed, we must always remember the injury of that night.

Judaism sits in the covenant with God, but a blessing is not the same thing as protection.  As Jacob is blessed, he is injured, and the Torah tells us to remember the injury.  

All this happens on the night before Jacob is to reunite with his brother, Esau, his twin who has sworn to kill him.  Jacob has prepared his camp for war, even as he is soliciting for peace.  We are taught to cherish the blessings of Israel, while we simultaneously understand that danger and injuries are still part of this world, and we take steps accordingly.  

The power of Jacob’s encounter with the angel is the choice of perspective we see.  Two things happened that night, and although Jacob will live with the physical pain of his injury, we never hear of it again.  He has focused on the blessing of becoming Israel, and that is the lesson he teaches us most clearly.

I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael

Rachaels’ Thoughts on Parshat Vayetzei

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This week’s Torah reading, Vayetzei, contains Jacob’s dream of a ladder to the sky with angels ascending and descending.  Jacob is fleeing from his brother, Esau, and must leave his home for the first time.  God pronounces covenant to Jacob, and promises him the land of Israel, and the wealth of descendants.  God also pledges to accompany Jacob wherever he goes, and return him to his homeland.  It’s a beautiful and reassuring moment.

     However, when Jacob wakes up and revisits his dream, he strikes a different agreement with God.  Jacob pledges that if God stays with him, keeps him safe, gives him food and clothing while he’s away, as well as returns him safely to his father’s house, only then will Jacob make God his God.  Jacob has turned the covenantal promise into a conditional one.  This is the instance when we watch covenant become a partnership of pledge.  It is Jacob who sets out the details of a human response.   

      We live our Judaism within the frame of our history and our ancestral visions.  But within that is the empowerment of each person to expand and define.  Our prayers include Jacob’s innovations, as we always include prayers for safety, peace, protection and sustenance.  Yet we also know that personal prayers are defined by each person.  Our Sages taught us that our formal prayers must always be accompanied by our personal ones.

      Jacob was leaving his home in fear of his life.  God assuring him of spiritual companionship and future descendants did not speak to his human moment.  The visions of our ancestors changed the world, but they each began with a personal yearning they put into words.

      At times, formal prayer can feel distant and opaque – those are the times to remember Jacob, his dream and his pledge.  Jewish prayer is an open door to cross and find the comfort of words Jews have said for millenia, or to find the truth of the moment and express only that to God.

     I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

      Shabbat shalom,

      Rachael

Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Toldot

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This Shabbat we read parshat Toldot, and the story of Jacob and his twin brother, Esau.  It is also the Shabbat before Remembrance Day, November 11, as we remember our Canadian soldiers and veterans.  It’s interesting that these two things speak to each other with relevance for today.

The story of Jacob and Esau resonates as the story of two brothers in conflict. Jacob trades the stew he has made for Esau’s blessing as the eldest son. Esau feels betrayed when he later realizes he will not receive that blessing.  Jacob flees from his brother, Esau, who has pledged to kill him.  

       From Jacob’s point of view, the blessing was obtained fairly and legally.  From Esau’s point of view, it was a fleeting momentary decision, and doesn’t speak to the emotional reality of losing his father’s blessing.  Jacob sees the covenant while Esau sees his father’s love.  Both brothers sit in a single event with conflicting perspectives that cannot be reconciled.  It is the story of every human conflict —it is headed for war.

As we cross time from the ancient world to today, we often sit in this reality.  We struggle with warfare, aiming for peace which is often elusive.  Remembrance Day is a time for us to honour those people who risk everything to bring peace.  The Torah teaches us that peace is not a natural state, it is something to be solicited, pursued, negotiated, and fought for.  On Remembrance Day we remember the values for which someone would risk everything.  We honour the people as well as their vision.

       Jacob will eventually solicit Esau for peace.  In doing so, he will offer back the riches he has obtained, and Esau will refuse them.  The brothers are able to close the pain of the past and consider the hope of a future.

      On Remembrance Day, we remember our soldiers, veterans, and heroes.  We remember the pain of their loss, as we affirm knowing that everything they did, and everything they risk, is to consider a hope for our future.

       I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael

Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Chayei Sarah

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This week, in parshat Chayei Sarah, the Torah tells us of Sarah’s passing.  Yet, when it speaks of the life of Sarah, our first matriarch, it begins with a strange phrase: “These were the lives of Sarah”.  We are struck by the plural forms. In fact, the name of the parshah, Chayei Sarah, translates as ‘the lives of Sarah’.

       Many of our commentaries offer beautiful insights into the choice of the plural.  One midrash offers the idea that all lives are connected through time, and therefore, every life is, in fact, a plural life.  It explains that when the book of Ecclesiastes said: “The sun rises and the sun sets”, the sun is understood as representing the brightness and warmth each of us brings to the world.  We’re told that before the sun sets – before we lose someone, it first rises -a new person has entered the world. The midrash points out that the Torah already told us that Rebecca, our next matriarch, was born, before it told us of the loss of Sarah.

            Rebecca is not the replacement of Sarah since people are not replaceable one with another.  The insight is for us to know that the world of relationships we build is limitless, as our relationships with others never end but build on each other.  Our lives connect with others, and when someone is lost to us, we may consider that, in time, some of the values they embodied may be found to shine in other people.  

        One opinion states that we all live many lives in our lifetime –that is why we find the plural noun here.  Sarah lived one lifetime but led many lives within that time.  During those lives, she influenced others and left an impression that stays with them.  Sarah continues to live her many lives even today.

        The eternal flow of sunrises and sunsets, as seen in the lives we live and the lives we touch, lets us know that the uniqueness of each person extends beyond anything we could contain in the singular –we need the plural.

        I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael

Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Vayera

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Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Vayera

This week’s parshah, Vayera, contains powerful concepts, not just for the ancient world but for our modern one.  We hear of strangers visiting Abraham and Sarah, and we suspect they’re angels.  Today, we often encounter people and are left with the impression they are more than they appear.  We glimpse the infinite depth that lies within each person.  Later in the parshah, Abraham argues with God about Sodom and creates a new moral dialogue.  His argument sets our understanding of how righteousness must be weighed and valued more than is evil – 10 righteous people can carry a region of thousands.  God agrees.  We also read of a desperate moment with Lot and his daughters that begins the lineage that will give us the Messiah.  We remember that sometimes the darkness of the moment can blind us to the redemption of the next moment.

   Yet, with all these tremendous perspectives, we usually focus on one element of the parshah, the binding of Isaac.  It is one of the most challenging and difficult texts we read, and we have yet to explain it in a way that sits comfortably in our hearts.  But because it disturbs us, we focus there and don’t value the positive messages in the rest of the parshah.

Sometimes in our daily lives, we experience things the same way we read this parshah.  Each day is filled with beautiful and powerful nuanced moments that positively impact how we think and feel, yet we will focus on something that disturbed us.  

  We protect ourselves by seeing what is negative, but we also deprive ourselves of seeing the positive growth in each day.  This week’s parshah invites us to broaden our views, seek the positive moments and value the change in perspectives they bring.

I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael

Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Lech Lecha

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This week, we meet Judaism’s visionaries: Abraham and Sarah.  God reaches out with an invitation to take a journey: lech lecha.  It’s a Hebrew phrase that is often difficult to translate.  The first word, lech, is the command ‘go’, which we immediately recognize.  However, the second word, lecha, is out of place in this phrase.  Lecha means ‘for you’, which has generated many commentaries on how this journey will benefit them, it is a journey ‘for you’.  

But the word lecha doesn’t only mean ‘for you’, it also means ‘to you’.

It now suggests that the journey of covenant, and Judaism, is a journey of self-discovery.  At the end of the road we travel, we are to meet our true selves.  Lech lecha now translates as ‘go toward yourself’.   

For the first three generations of our ancestry, our Matriarchs and Patriarchs each embark on their own lech lecha journey that takes them to different Jewish realities.  Each of their journeys is unique.  Once Jacob, our last ancestor, lies on his deathbed, he passes it to his descendants as an inherited legacy.

Each Jewish person inherits the invitation.  Lech lecha, walk a path of unknown discoveries filled with challenges and surprises.  It is never guaranteed to be only good, but it is always guaranteed to feel right when you find your unique lech lecha path.

We sometimes make a life decision that can shape the years ahead, but the life journey of lech lecha sets our feet on a path that began long before us, and will extend far beyond us.  The future imagined by Abraham and Sarah, and the vision they bring to the world, is only surpassed by the courage of this moment as they answer God and take a first step.

I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael

Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Noah

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Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Noah

It takes ten generations for the world to move from Adam to Noah, ten generations to go from creation to destruction. Yet, ten generations after Noah, we will read of Abraham. Throughout the ages, Jewish commentaries have compared Noah and Abraham, as they represent such different portraits of a hero.

Noah, knowing the world will be destroyed, doesn’t argue with God – he simply obeys.  Abraham, being told a region of Sodom will be destroyed, mounts a moral argument with God about sweeping judgments.  It seems that Abraham is the model of a hero, yet Noah and Abraham are both described with the same word: ‘Tzadik’.

The Sages tell us that a righteous person, a ‘tzadik’, is someone who stands firm in their morals, no matter what is going on around them.  In other words, a hero is defined by context.  Noah is righteous because he doesn’t have blood on his hands.  He doesn’t actively save people, but he doesn’t actively kill them, which was the cultural norm of his time.  He is righteous because he is blameless.  Abraham is righteous because he moves beyond being blameless and speaks for the potential victim.  His argument with God is not for those who are suffering, it is for those who will suffer in the future.  In this regard, both Noah and Abraham stand side by side in their righteousness – they both take their cultural norms one step further.

When we think of Torah in our lives, we do not think of it as standing far from us and our culture.  On the contrary, we contextualize Torah into our lives and have it strengthen us to take even one step forward.  A hero could be someone who stays calm when others are lashing out, or someone who sees the outcome of suffering and tries to intervene before it starts, or someone who gives their time to support someone in a culture where every minute is accounted for and scheduled.  

Noah and Abraham, so distinctly different, both show us there are heroes among us all the time, we just need to understand that subtle gestures can also be heroic.

I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael

Rachael’s Thoughts on parashat Bereishit

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Rachael’s Thoughts on parashat Bereishit

We have danced, celebrated, fasted, and prayed for weeks, as we entered the High Holidays, moved through them, and now truly begin our Jewish new year.  This Shabbat, we begin reading the Torah again with the first chapters of Genesis, parashat Bereishit.

           We read of the beginnings of the universe, the world as we know it, and the human condition.  Einstein believed that the universe is not a defined, static thing, but that it continues to expand.  Our Sages taught us that creation renews itself every day, and that the creative elements God embedded into the universe will always renew.  Our worlds of science and faith are both telling us that nothing around us stands still – everything moves toward growth and expansion.

           With that in mind, we do not read the book of Genesis again, we read it anew.  It has new things to tell us, unique perspectives we haven’t heard before.  The entire Torah begins with the word ‘Bereishit’ – ‘in the beginning’.  It begins with the letter ‘b’ (bet), the second letter of the Hebrew alphabet.  Our commentaries point out that it would be more appropriate to begin the Torah with the first letter, ‘a’ (aleph).  One reason is to show that there is always something more to know, something that pre-exists, something connected with ‘a’ (aleph) that is hidden and inviting us to explore.  But the Torah must begin with the second letter because we know we are entering a process that is already moving forward.

           Though we are careful  not to read Torah searching for endings – we engage with Torah as we search for beginnings.  Each person finds their unique starting place, knowing there is so much that exists before them – before anything they recognize.  The goal is not to unlock a mystery of the past, it is to courageously step in and enter the expansion.

I’d like to wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat –our Jewish time to regroup, rest, and reinvigorate.

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael

Taking A Break

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Taking A Break

I recently accepted a position as Rabbanit at a synagogue in Toronto, the Beth Torah Congregation.  I am very honoured with this position, as my parents were among the founding members of this shul.  In light of my new community position, and with all the exciting new courses being offered this fall at Rachael’s Centre, I will be taking a break from writing my weekly blog.  

I want to personally wish everyone a sweet and peaceful Shabbat, and meaningful weeks leading up to our High Holidays.

Shabbat shalom u-mevorach,

Rachael

This week’s parsha is Va’etchanan.

Read or revisit Rachael’s previous blogs on this parsha:

Parshat Va’etchanan: If I Could Walk In Your Shoes I’d Have Bigger Feet

Parshat Va’etchanan: Learning To Listen

Being the Tooth Fairy Was Easy

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Being the Tooth Fairy Was Easy

When I was little, I believed in the Tooth Fairy.  Whenever I would lose a tooth, I would put it under my pillow, and in the morning I knew that one of my parents took the tooth and placed a nickel in its place.  I knew they wanted me to think it was the Tooth Fairy, and so I decided to play along and make them happy.  We all ‘believed’ in the Tooth Fairy and were quite happy to live the fantasy.  A few times, I woke up in the morning. and my tooth was still under my pillow. I made sure to mention to my parents that the Tooth Fairy hadn’t come (read: ‘I thought you were good parents but I believe I’m down a nickel…).  

No one is really sure how the Tooth Fairy started, but some theories track it as early as the 1200s, when Norwegian soldiers bought children’s teeth to wear around their necks for good luck in battle (not quite my image of a ‘tooth fairy’ but then no one made me look it up so I have only myself to blame).

When my kids started losing their teeth, I most definitely told them to put the tooth under their pillow for the Tooth Fairy.  The first few times I was shocked to hear from friends that you had to put a quarter for each tooth (gone were the good old nickel-per-tooth days).  By the time we were at the fifth child, each tooth cost us a loonie (a Canadian $1 coin) – tooth inflation is shocking!

I never considered not being the Tooth Fairy.  The guilt, the blame, the parental insecurity would have cut me to the core.  Wasn’t a piece of my child worth the $1?  Once, I remember trying to get the tooth out from under my kid’s pillow when they opened their eyes and looked at me, as my face was millimeters away from theirs.  I froze.  I told them I was just coming to say ‘I love you’ – we smiled at each other and they went back to sleep while I went to shower the cold sweat off me.

Yet, with all that said, I do remember that by the end of it all, my youngest child would ask me if the Tooth Fairy had remembered to get some cash that day. She would then hand me her tooth and I would hand her the loonie.  I appreciated that she indulged my Tooth Fairy secret identity. 

Pretending to believe in things we don’t actually believe in is a tricky thing.  

Needless to say, it is a crucial question within our Jewish lives and it becomes very central today, as we approach Tisha B’Av – the 9th day of the month of Av – a day that marks Jewish historical disasters throughout time.  The decree that ancient Israelites should stay in the desert for 40 years occurred on Tisha B’Av.  Both ancient Temples in Jerusalem were destroyed on this day and Jerusalem was lost as a 2000 year exile began.  

Throughout Jewish history, we move all our sadness and tragic memories to Tisha B’Av.  The same Sages who tell us to express our Judaism through happiness also tell us to focus all the negativity of our history onto one specific day. It is a brilliant way to frame a troubled history that could result in a depressive culture.  To ensure that a difficult history does not define our perspective, we are told that for 364 days of the year we must find our joy, and for 1 day we express our tragedies. 

The problem with believing in something is when we are told that all our suffering is because we didn’t have enough faith in God – we didn’t believe enough.  According to this view, all our suffering is the punishment we have brought upon ourselves, and therefore the answer is to repent and strengthen our belief.

The problem is we are never commanded to believe in the first place.  Commandments speak to the consistency of our behaviours while our beliefs are expected to wax and wane.  Yes, Judaism is a religion, and we could easily conclude that everything sits in our faith, but Judaism is far more layered than that.  The Talmud tells us that we lost the Temples because of ‘baseless hatred’ – a general animosity we felt towards other people for no valid reason.  We weren’t punished because of it, we sabotaged ourselves.  I cannot build a family, a community, or a society, if I see no value in anyone around me.  Losing everything that mattered to us wasn’t the punishment, it was the inevitable outcome.

Rav Kook, Israel’s first Chief Rabbi, once expressed that the answer to baseless hatred is baseless love.  If I am able to reach out to someone and create a positive moment, we are then actively pushing against baseless hatred.  If one community offers allyship to a vulnerable group, we are building baseless love.  We know that the world before us will not be the same as the world of 18 months ago.  The world before us can become a world where we actively push away from Tisha B’Av – where we choose the strength of love and bond.

On Tisha B’Av, we read the book of Lamentations.  The first word in the book is ‘Eichah’, which means ‘how’ – how did such a catastrophe occur?  It does not begin by asking ‘why’, which would be a question of faith, rather it asks ‘how’, which is a question of accountability.

True belief is never a game we pretend to play, and we are not punished for our journeys of faith.  While the ancient prophet Jeremiah asked the question of how things could collapse so fully, we have the opportunity to ask ourselves how we can build things anew so beautifully.