Parsha Blog

Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Eikev

by

As we continue to hear Moses’ thoughts in parshat Eikev, our Torah reading this week, Moses says something that confuses us.  Moses tells Israel not to forget the past 40 years and the hardships we endured since this was God wanting to know what was in our hearts.  The confusing part is that God is omniscient, all-knowing, wouldn’t God already know what’s in our hearts, and then we could be spared all the hardship and suffering? 

It raises the tension between God knowing everything yet granting us free will.  They seem to be opposing truths that cannot coexist.  While there is no clear resolution, generally our Sages understood that God chooses not to know what we will choose, granting us the space to exercise our free will.   

The greatest gift God bestowed on us is the gift of choosing.  It is an ultimate statement of trust because I could choose to keep myself from God, to exclude God from my life, to deny.  The gift of free will is the act of trust that I will find my own unique way to God and genuinely desire that partnership. 

But why through hardship? When there are simchas in our lives, we open all the doors, as we open our hearts, to celebrate together.  When there are challenges in our lives, we narrow the scope, guard our hearts and trust only those we have chosen as our inner circle.  Moses has told Israel that God desires a presence in our inner circle.   

The strength of free will is immeasurable.  It is how we choose to shape the world around us, to form our families, to create a life journey, and to include God.  Moses has reminded us that our relationships with God are tremendously empowering, often fragile, but ultimately of our own choosing. 

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 Vaetchanan

by

This week’s Torah portion, Vaetchanan, has many verses we recognize from within our Siddur.  One of the things we immediately notice is the statement of Shema Yisrael, a core statement of Jewish unity and declaration of monotheism.

​Interestingly, the statement is most often translated as: Hear, O Israel, the Lord, our God, the Lord is One.  But the word shema’, in Biblical Hebrew, doesn’t mean ‘hear’ as much as it means ‘understand’.  We are not telling each other to listen up, we are telling each other to try and understand this all important statement.

​Once we reframe the meaning in our minds, we start to notice how many times the word shema appears in this parshah -suddenly it’s everywhere.  Moses tells Israel that God is not ‘listening’ to his need to enter the land; Moses repeatedly tells Israel they must ‘listen’ to the commandments; Moses declares to Israel they must ‘listen’ to each other.

​​In other words, we often tell people they’re not listening to us when we actually mean they’re not understanding us.  Rather than putting the focus on the other person and their listening skills, perhaps the focus should be self-directed by asking if we are expressing ourselves in order to be understood.  If not, we should change our communication, not assume the other person has to change how they listen.

Moses has named the relationships in our lives that are key for understanding each other: God, the society we are building together, and our personal community.  Even as Moses faces his final days, he continues to lead and inspire.

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 Devarim

by

This week, we begin reading the last book of the Torah, the book of Devarim (Deuteronomy in English).  Devarim recants things we’ve already read, but now it’s told from Moses’ point of view.  We’ve been waiting since the book of Exodus to hear what Moses thinks about his life, and we finally get a glimpse.  He is not a happy man. 

He starts his memory from the time they left Sinai, when he noticed God had fulfilled a covenantal promise by making Israel into a great nation.  ‘So great,’ says Moses, ‘that I told you then I wouldn’t be able to carry all of you with all your problems.’  From that point onward, we hear Moses own responsibility for some things, and blame Israel for others.  It’s a very sobering version.   

We hear the honesty of Moses’ voice as he struggles with what he knows are his final days.  When he finishes his address to Israel, he knows he will die, and so there is nothing to be gained or lost, there is only the opportunity to be heard.   

But that is everything. 

When Moses first meets God, at the burning bush, Moses says he is not a man of words, he will not be listened to or believed.  This self-perception of inadequacy haunts him throughout his leadership.  Aaron is there to support him, as is Miriam, because he always feels he is not good enough to be heard or believed. 

While we are feeling the heaviness of Moses’ fate, the pain of not entering the land of Israel, we should not lose sight of this tremendous gift he is granted in these last days.  Moses is speaking from his heart, and he is listened to, and he is believed.  In fact, several millennia later, we are still reading his book, listening to him, and believing every word. 

We could not imagine our Torah without this last book, the words of Moses, deemed as holy as every other book of Torah. Every year, we read it, we hear him, we understand his human moments, and we give our greatest leader what he deserves –our appreciation and ongoing respect.  The book of Devarim may not give us new information, but it gives us the unfiltered voice of Moses, and his deserved last word on the matter. 

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 Matot/Masei

by

This week, we read a double portion from the Torah, the chapters of Matot/Masei.  Included in these chapters is a request from two tribes to live outside of Israel.  It raises the ongoing question of whether Jews must live in Israel or can we choose to live elsewhere.

The tribes of Reuven and Gad argue that their livelihoods are better suited to the land they saw before entering Israel.  Just as the daughters of Zelophehad previously argued to change the laws of inheritance so they could acquire land in Israel, these tribes now argue to change the law, so they do not have to acquire land in Israel.  Right from the start, Israel presents a challenge to us where some of us will do anything to be there while others would not.

In the end, Moses strikes a deal with the tribes. They may live outside of Israel if they help acquire the land and ensure that the rest of the nation can live there safely.  Once that is accomplished, they may return to their homes outside of Israel.  Everyone agrees, and it seems to work well until we are told, a generation later, that there are now challenges of common identity when it comes to everyone’s children.

These ancient questions never resolve.  The relationships we all have with Israel are always complex.  They include understandings of identity, politics, ethics, religion, family, and peoplehood.  Everything we’re taught not to discuss at work or at parties.  The strength of the portion in the Torah is the honesty with which everything is raised, discussed and agreed, while showing us that resolutions will be momentary –each generation will face its own Israel challenge.

The last few years we’ve all had our plates full of health concerns, financial changes, and new societal norms.  We’re still in the midst of understanding much of what the world looks like now.  Through it all, Israel, and our relationship with it, may have faded into the background of our lives.  This week the Torah reminds us that even if we do not live there, the commitment, the oneness of nation, and the responsibility to its welfare must never fade.

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 Pinchas

by

In this week’s Torah portion, Pinchas, we see opposite arguments sitting side by side.  We meet five outstanding sisters who bring an argument of fairness to Moses.  They state that since their father died without leaving a son, the laws of inheritance do not apply, and their family name and legacy will be lost.  Their argument is based on the underlying assumption that a covenant with God sits on an ethical foundation of fairness.  Moses presents their case to God, and God agrees with the women, changing the inheritance laws in Israel forever.  It seems their argument of covenantal fairness prevails.

But then, immediately, we hear of Moses’ death sentence.  God tells Moses to climb to the top of the mountain and see the land of Israel but know that he will never enter it.  Moses responds with a plea to appoint a leader for the people so there is continuity –it is unfair to leave them without a leader, even for a moment.  Coming immediately after the sisters and their successful argument for fairness, we are shocked to hear of what will befall Moses.

The two opposite texts highlight an ongoing tension we all have in our Jewish lives: my needs as an individual and the needs of a community.  There are times when our spiritual needs seek privacy and isolation –indulgence in our own thoughts.  Yet, we are commanded to build community and join a minyan.  Some people have shared with me that sometimes it is the distraction of being around others that actually blocks their spiritual moment.  Judaism keeps us balancing on the line between the individual and the community, we are not to serve only one, we are to harmonize them both.

In fact, we are given tools to engage outwardly at times, and to disconnect and journey inward when we choose.  Some people cover their eyes with their Tallit at certain moments, others may cover their face with their Siddur – we all cover our eyes during Shema.

The five sisters argue for personal fairness, and they are successful.  Moses argues for fairness for the people, and he is successful.  It is we who cannot switch our thoughts to consider that what the people need may present as unfair to what the individual needs. Clearly, the new generation of Israelites need Joshua as a leader, Moses could lead a generation of slaves, not a generation of freeborn.  

Whether it is something as grand as leadership and legacy, or something as personal as how many times we go to shul, the question of balancing the personal and the communal is always a delicate balance of fairness and fulfillment.

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 Balak

by

This week’s Torah reading, Balak, is one of the most mysterious, as it deals with foreign prophets, talking donkeys and interfering angels.  In essence, Balak, a foreign king, has hired Balaam, a foreign prophet, to curse Israel.  God has told Balaam not to go (hence the interfering angel and the talking donkey), but Balaam defies God.

Each time Balaam tries to curse Israel, his words come out as blessings.  The king, Balak, keeps moving the prophet around, hoping this time he will succeed with the curse.  It’s a delightful story and a pleasure to read, but beneath the enchantment are important messages.  One of these messages involves how the king is repositioning the prophet each time.

Balaam stands on a mountaintop and sees Israel camped below.  Israel doesn’t know he’s watching them.  The first time he fails, Balaam is moved to another mountaintop where he fails again, and finally, after the third failure on the third mountaintop, Balak gives up.  God has turned each intended curse into beautiful blessings, but we can’t help but ask why he keeps moving from mountaintop to mountaintop.

The position of being in a high place and looking down on someone else orients us into a position of entitlement.  From thinking we are entitled to these high places, it is easier to speak badly of what we see below.  Each time the king moves Balaam, he keeps him in a high place so as not to disturb his entitled perspective.  By God changing his words, the prophet is forced to see that these very words are elevating Israel to stand on high.  Curses are turned into blessings and blessings elevate us all.

In other words, the answer to entitlement is to elevate each other to places of dignity and high esteem.  The Sages tell us that the wise person learns from everyone, and this week we learn an invaluable lesson from a foreign prophet named Balaam.

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 Chukat

by

In this week’s Torah portion, parshat Chukat, we read of the deaths of Miriam and Aaron, and Moses’ death sentence when he hits the rock.  We are always troubled by reading of the loss of these leaders but we don’t often reflect on the loss of them as siblings.

    Throughout the book of Genesis, we are introduced again and again to siblings with issues.  It starts right at the beginning with the first brothers, Cain and Abel, and then continues through with Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau, and Joseph and all his brothers.  The first question a sibling ever asks God is when Cain asks: “Am I my brother’s keeper?”  God does not answer the question.

    Throughout Genesis, we are shown the lives of people who do not feel they are responsible for their siblings.  The book ends with brothers selling a brother into slavery, the entire family following him into Egypt, resulting in the enslavement of the Jewish people.

    But, as we are told of the despair of the people, we are introduced to another set of siblings: Miriam, the oldest, Aaron, the middle child, and Moses the baby.  Pharaoh targets the baby boys  which places Moses’ life in danger.  Moses’ mother tries to protect him by placing him in an ark on the Nile, but it is Miriam, his sister, who stands guard at the banks to guard him.  Miriam is the one who courageously speaks to the daughter of Pharaoh and arranges to have Moses nursed by his mother in his Jewish home.  In that moment, Miriam changes the picture of siblings in the Torah forever.

    When Moses grows up and stands before the burning bush receiving his life mission from God, he expresses fear at the thought of confronting Pharaoh.  God tells Moses that his brother, Aaron, is already on his way to meet Moses and support him.  Aaron will stand by his brother’s side for the rest of their lives.

    These three siblings, Miriam, Aaron, and Moses, will have the usual angst that siblings will always experience.  They will argue, they will compete, they will become estranged, they will reconcile, but they will always live inside their sibling relationship.  

When Miriam guards her baby brother at the Nile, she is answering Cain’s question through her actions.  She has decided to become her brother’s keeper.  Because of Miriam’s decision, Moses has a window in which to live his life.  Aaron will follow along this path with his big sister, and together they give us the leadership we hold as our model.

    While Genesis shows us the challenge of the sibling relationship, Miriam, Aaron, and Moses, show us its rewards.  The 14th century Jewish philosopher, Ralbag, stated that although siblings may not be as good company as friends, it is siblings who are more likely to respond in times of challenge.  Miriam, Aaron and Moses taught us more than they ever imagined.

    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 Korach

by

This week’s parshah, Korach, shows us the first instance of a rebellion within the people.  Korach incites hundreds of people to revolt against Moses and Aaron.  He argues that since God speaks to everyone directly, he is as holy as Moses.  He throws in a few ‘should have left us in Egypt’ nostalgia soundbites to show his followers that he gets them and…better the devil you know.

The whole thing raises questions of leadership and the transfer of power.  Korach’s argument that we all stand equal before God is an argument that has merit.  A fundamental value of Judaism is that all souls are equally holy, and all have open and direct access to the Infinite.  There are no intermediaries.  I cannot put someone between myself and God, I only create agencies – the cantor is my messenger, the voice and content of what is said are mine.  

If, in fact, we are all holy, what is wrong with Korach’s argument?

The problem with Korach is how he approaches the transfer of power.  Yes, equality in holiness creates a level starting point, but it does not speak of process.  Korach is drawing attention to the obvious, while misdirecting everyone from the problem: his argument of holiness is couched in an expression of aggression and violence.  Korach is inciting others to anger and rebellion.  

We easily trigger each other into negative mind spaces.  Nature wires us to load up the negative outcomes in our minds so we can see danger before it happens.  It’s why we think of everything that goes wrong before we think of what has gone right.  Judaism tries to incline us toward a balance, even toward more positive perspectives –we are commanded to choose life and joy.

When we choose between change that evolves, or acute change, Judaism will choose evolution over revolution.  Korach’s rebellion proves he missed key values of Torah and covenant.  He may be persuasive, but the path he argues for represents the failure of covenant.

The most dramatic moment of rebellion in this portion is when we see the inevitable outcome of Korach’s process: the earth opens its mouth and eats Korach and his followers.  The natural way of creation is for the earth to give us food, not to perceive us as food and devour us alive -that is a rebellion of the natural order.  

Jewish leadership takes all forms and all kinds of people.  The focus of this moment is not the leaders themselves but the space between the leaders.  The journey from old leader to new leader is one of growth and transformation, not one that betrays the values that are to be secured beyond the leader.

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 Shlach

by

This week’s Torah portion, Shlach, describes the twelve spies that Moses sent into Israel.  Two of them brought back a positive and encouraging report, while ten of them spoke negatively. Ultimately, this event adds forty years to Israel’s wanderings in the desert.  But amidst Moses’ great plan that went awry, we learn two important details about Judaism and ourselves.

In Judaism, we are taught to be careful with our words, as they affect changes in the world.  We are not allowed to speak badly of people, and we’re discouraged from speaking badly about anything.  We understand that we are part of humanity, and therefore it’s understood that we are not to speak badly of ourselves.  Loving our neighbours as ourselves includes the understanding that we are no better nor worse than others, and we owe ourselves the same respect we offer to others.  The spies violated this rule.

Buried in their report, the spies stated that they appeared like grasshoppers to the inhabitants of the land.  They referred to themselves as annoyances, nuisances, bugs.  But these are the people God redeemed from Egypt, the descendants of Abraham and Sarah -to demean themselves is to diminish Jewish ancestry and God’s intervention in history.  To belittle ourselves is to belittle all those who contributed to who we are.

The second lesson from this moment is that they accurately described the process of projection.  They stated that ‘we appeared as grasshoppers in our eyes, so we must have appeared as such in their eyes’.  In other words, the feeling of inadequacy originates within and is then assumed to be seen by everyone.  Self-doubt and feelings of unworthiness are things we harbour within us, and then project outwardly to others.  We conclude there is nothing else for them to see and so become our greatest barrier. We have already accepted a failed outcome.

The story of the spies teaches us how careful we must be with our words, and how greatly they influence outcomes.  But we also learn the importance of self-respect.  Each of us carries a divine spark within us.  When we choose to recognize that spark, we understand how harmful the words of the spies truly were.  We learn from their mistake by honouring ourselves and each other.

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 Naso

by

This week’s Torah portion, Naso, describes a Nazirite, someone who takes an oath of spiritual devotion to God.  The oath triggers the laws we read about: it must be for a defined amount of time, for the duration, the person cannot cut their hair, nor drink wine (or anything fermented), nor engage in rituals of mourning.  In other words, the journey towards God simultaneously involves a journey away from society.

A Nazirite, whether man or woman, chooses to withdraw from human bonding experiences.  There is no toasting ‘l’chaim’ with anyone out of joy or commiserating with a drink together after a hard day; no standing next to a friend as they say Kaddish at a graveside; no cutting the hair also means no combing it, since that will pull out hairs.  It won’t take long before the hair will matte, and the very sight of the person may make others question their grooming.  The presence of a Nazirite will begin to make others uncomfortable.

Ironically, one would think that an oath of devotion to God would mean that person is to be revered in their holiness, not bring discomfort to others.  But the word ‘holy’, in Hebrew, means ‘separate from’.  We separate the wine in the kiddush cup from the same wine in the bottle by creating holiness through a blessing.  We cover holy things to designate their separateness –we cover a Torah scroll for this reason.

Judaism teaches us to function within layers of the holy and the mundane.  Our goal is never to devote ourselves only to holy endeavours, but rather to find the times they intersect, and then explore how one informs the other.  Judaism shows us how to confront our human yearnings and offers frames of how we can explore them with an awareness of the risk.  A yearning for God, to the exclusion of our fellow human beings, means we are no longer involved with God in healing and repairing the world.  We momentarily stepped aside from our obligation as partners of God.  It is allowed, for a defined time, at the end of which the person must bring a sin offering.  We take our responsibility to partner with God very much to heart.

The invitation to enter a close relationship with God is always open to us, but it is always part of a balance where we see God, the world around us, and every person who shares it with us.

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

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael