holiness

Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Acharei Mot & Kedoshim

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Within the Torah readings this Shabbat is ‘The Holiness Code’.  As soon as we hear that it’s a ‘how to’ on holiness, we expect something spiritual, something esoteric with elevated philosophies. We don’t get that, instead we get details on relationships, and details on harvesting.  It heads to the mundane, which begs the question: where’s the holiness in The Holiness Code? 

Perhaps the holiness actually sits in all the details rather than in the grandeur.  In teaching us how to harvest our fields, the Torah tells us to leave the corners alone, in other words, harvest in spirals.  It’s important to remember that land isn’t measured in circles, it’s measured in squares or rectangles so it will always have corners.  It makes the most sense to harvest in lines.  By being told to harvest in spirals, it now becomes impossible to get into the corners, which will always remain outside of the harvester’s reach.  We are also told that if a harvester drops anything they cut, it must remain on the ground and the harvester must proceed onward.  At first glance these are strange laws that seem to represent losses to the land owner. 

The holiness aspect enters when we understand that every field has more than harvesters in it.  Among those who are paid to harvest are people who are unemployed, as well as people who are hungry.  When the harvester drops something, it is not picked up because someone who needs it will now gather it and keep it.  The harvesters are kept out of the corners of the field because the poor and the disadvantaged will harvest the corners and keep what they harvest. 

But why not simply harvest everything and give a percentage as charity, which would result in the same thing?  But it’s not the same thing, it’s merely the same outcome.  Charity puts food on someone’s table, but it’s the result of my work, not theirs.  Charity is transformed when we build shared experiences that produce shared outcomes.  In the same field, some are harvesting, some are gathering, but all are  productively working together.  Everyone puts food on their own table that is the result of the work of their own hands.   

Holiness is when someone who is disadvantaged has the same experience as someone who has privilege. 

In today’s world, it would be similar to giving a homeless person a gift card to the same place you buy your coffee or food.  With the gift card, that person now enters the same place, is treated equally, and sits together with everyone in a shared experience.  Holiness is created when everyone is treated with honour and respect.   

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 Shemini

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This week’s Torah reading, parashat Shemini, introduces Israel to the routine of sacrifices, and the strict structures of fixed ritual.  Having to be spiritual in preset moments of our day is something we struggle with all the time – why can’t I just pray when I feel like praying? 

Long ago, the Sages discussed the tension that exists between spontaneous and fixed prayer.  At times, we enter the moment as it occurs, and express ourselves with a spontaneous prayer that is uniquely ours.  Other times, we are told to pick up a Siddur at specific times of the day and use the words printed there.  Both of those expressions feed our souls, in very different ways. 

In this week’s parashah, Israel is being introduced to fixed ritual through specific sacrifices that are triggered by time or events – nothing spontaneous. Humanity calling out to God from within a human moment is natural to us, and we see it happening throughout Torah. It is the fixed routine of spirituality that is new and challenging – telling our souls, which are timeless, that they are now on a schedule for spiritual expression.  

Prayer is often challenging, not because we don’t feel a moment of depth, but because we may not feel it in the specific hours we’re gathered together with a Siddur in our hands.  This challenge isn’t new, as we hear the discussions in the Talmud of rabbis introducing their spontaneous prayers into the time of a fixed prayer.  In other words, the answer is not to always choose one or the other, it is to layer one into the other.   

If being spontaneous speaks strongly to you, find a moment to also utter a line of prayer from the Siddur – if praying out of a Siddur speaks strongly to you, find a moment to also stop and utter a personal spontaneous prayer.  Create a prayer that is both timeless and time bound. 

Layering both expressions together is the way the Torah reminds us that both our bodies and our souls are holy and must enhance each other.  Our bodies are entirely of this world, each cell containing its own clock, keeping us connected to time.  Our souls are entirely of the spiritual realm, connected to God, existing outside time.  Our expression of prayer, entering a holy moment, elevates our awareness of both a structured existence as well as a spontaneous one. Jewish ritual is not entirely about the details of the expression, it includes the nuanced expression of our personal moments. 

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 Shabbat Zachor

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The Shabbat before Purim is called Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat of Remembrance.  It is named after the commandment to always remember what Amalek did to us as we were coming out of Egypt – the word ‘zachor’ means to remember.  Ironically, the commandment regarding Amalek is to erase the memory of this people, but at the same time we are commanded to remember. 

Our history with Amalek goes back to biblical times when they attacked us as we came out of Egypt.  It is not just the attack, it is that they targeted the part of the nation that is protected at the back: the women, the children, the elderly.  The rules of warfare respected that conflict should remain between the strong and the armed.  Amalek first attacked those that were vulnerable, they preyed on the ones ancient societies had agreed to protect.  Amalek was a nation whose core rested on self-interest, brutality, and immorality – the epitome of evil. 

The Torah commands us to remember that evil exists in the world and it will hunt.  We consider Haman to be a descendant of Amalek, and we therefore read of them on this Shabbat, the Shabbat of Remembrance.  But the commandment is to erase their memories from existence, so why do we do the opposite by naming a Shabbat after remembering them?   

It is not history that we are directed to erase, it is the logical reconciliation of that history.  The fact that hatred and evil of that kind can still gain supporters means it is somehow still making sense to someone.  The commandment to continue to fight Amalek, by remembering them until they are forgotten, speaks to the goal of changing the cultural consciousness.  We have not won against evil in the world so long as it still makes sense to some cultures. 

The prophet Isaiah spoke of a time of redemption when nation would not raise sword against nation, and they would no longer study war.  It is not that they would not feel the need to study warfare, it’s that war would no longer make sense to anyone. 

We remember Amalek so we will recognize evil when we see it.  It is the only war we are commanded to wage – fight evil until it’s very existence becomes an anomaly. 

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 Terumah

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In this week’s parashah, Terumah, the Torah describes two gold angels perched on top of the Ark of the Covenant.  The angels are Cherubim; in popular culture we’re told to envision cute, chubby, baby-like angels, but the midrash tells us something quite different.  Cherubim are fierce, and very protective of both their privacy, and their domain – we don’t want to run into them.   

These Cherubim are both looking down at the Ark – they are there to protect it.  In this protective stance, their wings spread over their heads, extending toward each other, almost, but not quite touching.  God has told Moses that the Divine Voice will be heard in the space between the wings.  Although we are afraid of them, we must overcome our fears and focus on the space between them.   

God will speak from the empty space. 

Today, our world seems short on empty spaces. It is filled with the things we inherit; the things we acquire; the things we build.  Judaism does not view materialism as bad; it cautions us against creating tunnel vision around it.  Wealth can trick us into thinking there is no emptiness in the world. The Torah reminds us that we are to seek the spaces in the world that seem empty, and recognize there is a holy moment inviting us in. 

When the Sages talk of a Torah scroll, they describe the writing as ‘black fire on white fire’.  There is no emptiness, there is no background, there are only invitations inward.  God’s Voice can be heard from the space between the angels, a place we would have ignored, we would have thought it was empty. 

The challenge of everyday is to recognize these places we previously ignored.  The Torah this week invites us to listen closely, because we will hear something that beckons us.  Whether it is someone in need of food, in need of a smile, or in need of eye contact, it will rarely be their voice that speaks to us, it will most often be their silence.  But silence does not mean emptiness. 

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 Yitro

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This Shabbat we read the Ten Commandments, a well-known passage in Torah that is often the most misquoted and misunderstood.  We’re not sure there’s actually ten; a careful read of the Torah would seem to list over thirty commandments.  The Sages grouped and categorized them to result in ten, and our tradition never questions that number.   

We also think the Ten Commandments are consistently understood across cultural and religious communities, they are not.  Within Christianity, the first commandment is “You shall have no other God before Me”, while in Judaism, the first commandment is “I am the Lord, your God.”  What is viewed as an introductory statement to most of the world is presented in the Torah as an actual commandment to be fulfilled. 

This first commandment begins with the word ‘Anochi’, ‘I am’, which is a commandment of self-awareness and engagement.  Judaism demands that we struggle with our concept and understanding of God.  We are not commanded towards a conclusion of this struggle, we are commanded to engage with it.  “I am the Lord, your God”– what does that mean to each of us?   

The Torah says that God is the source and humanity is the image.  Therefore, I cannot fully explore, or understand the image, unless I struggle with seeking the source.  I cannot reach self-awareness without understanding from where I originated.  I will never exhaust my understanding of God, but as Rabbi Tarfon taught us in Pirkei Avot, ‘your job is not to complete the task, but neither are you free to avoid it’. 

This Shabbat we stand in shul together when we read the Ten Commandments, just as we stood together at Mount Sinai when we received them.  The first commandment, “I am the Lord, your God”, continues to invite us into the greatest of explorations, the push to grapple with both the inward and outward thresholds of the infinite.  An appropriate commandment to begin a list of laws that will change the world. 

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 Vayishlach

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In this week’s Torah reading, Vayishlach, we see Jacob wrestling with an angel all night until daybreak.  It results in an injury – the angel grabs Jacob’s thigh, injuring his nerve and causing him to limp for the rest of his life.  The severity of that injury has significance both in how it speaks to us in our Jewish identity, as well as how it remains silent. 

Before Jacob is injured, he demands that the angel bless him, and the angel tells Jacob his name will be changed to Israel.  According to the angel, the name means Jacob will struggle with people and with God but will be enabled to meet those challenges.  In the same moment of such a strong blessing we also hear of such a grave injury.  The two extremes sitting side by side teach Jews that Covenant conveys blessings but it is not a shield against injury or pain.  Jewish identity will always contain both the blessings and the pain. 

On a personal level, the injury remains silent.  The Torah tells us Jacob will now limp but Jacob himself never refers to it.  We do not hear him speak to his family of ever being in pain or ever feeling limited because of his limp. 

After Jacob, the Torah introduces us to our next leader, Moses.  Like Jacob, Moses also has a handicap which we learn of when he speaks with God at the burning bush.  Moses tells God he has a speech impediment.  Interestingly, God does not view it as a handicap and nowhere in Torah do we ever see anyone asking Moses to repeat himself because they can’t understand him.  Moses is the only one who sees his limitation and he feels insecure because of it. 

Two leaders stand side by side, both have physical limitations, but Jacob does not define himself by it while Moses does.  It challenges us to ask how much of how we perceive ourselves is based on self-imposed limitations.  Among the many things we learn from Jacob is this subtle detail of personal empowerment: choose the blessings over the pain, and question ourselves about our perceived limitations. 

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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In this week’s Torah reading, parshat Lech Lecha, we meet our first generation of ancestors: Abraham and Sarah. We always think of them as the beginnings of Judaism, the ones who followed God into a relationship that changes them, changes their descendants, and changes the world. 

What we don’t often emphasize is that the journey to search for something more didn’t begin with Abraham and Sarah, it began with Abraham’s father, Terach. Before reading of the beginning of the Jewish journey, the Torah tells us that a man named Terach took his family, including his son Abraham and daughter-in-law Sarah, and left their home in Chaldean territory. Along the journey, Terach dies, and his family stagnates. They seem paralyzed by the loss of their father and the family journey seems to end just as it has barely begun. 

It is then that God speaks to Abraham and prompts him to ‘lech lecha’, ‘journey onward’. It is a Divine prod to continue with the vision and initiative of his father, Terach –to bring the family to new horizons. The relationship that God, Abraham, and Sarah, will form is not the relationship Terach envisioned but it is the continuation of his impulse to search beyond the usual. 

The Torah is always full of layers of meaning and timeless messages. Terach changed his family culture and envisioned what could be beyond, but his life ended. If not for God reaching out to Abraham and Sarah, Terach’s vision would have ended as well. The Torah is always full of timeless messages, and in this case, we are shown that the journey of a life takes longer than a lifetime. 

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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This week’s Torah reading, parshat Noah, tells us the story of Noah’s Ark – a story we’re all familiar with.  We know the grandeur of the problem: all of creation has corrupted and turned evil.  We know the grandeur of the solution: God destroys everything with a flood.  But within the narrative lies a subtle detail that speaks volumes to us today. 

The Torah says that the animals and people entered the ark in their designated numbers. They are referred to as pairs when they enter. Yet, when these same people and animals leave the ark, we’re told they leave in their family groupings.  In other words, the people and animals who were isolating together in the ark formed relationships and bonds while they were there.   

As nature raged outside, the ark protected those within — not just with shelter from the storm, but with the understanding that they will survive if they create strong bonds with each other.  When the destruction outside became overwhelming, it is the love and bond they developed for each other that secured difficult moments. 

The corruption that led to the flood included a preference for disconnect and ultimate autonomy from everyone and everything.  The Sages speak of a world where absolute self-interest and self-promotion became the motive and expression of everything.  The Torah contrasts that with the changing reality inside the ark.  While everything entered on its own, they quickly formed trust, family, bond, and the hope of continuity.  

After the High Holidays, I heard from many families who re-experienced the power and joy of sitting together with family members.  In some cases, it had been years since they were able to experience those moments.  The spirituality of Judaism is not just the holiness of God and ritual, it is also the holiness we create when we reach toward each other and build strong unions.   

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 Shabbat Sukkot

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This Shabbat falls towards the end of the holiday of Sukkot, the time God judges the world for rain that will fall.  When the Temple stood, there was a ceremony connected with water called Simchat Beit haShoeiva’, the ‘Joy of the Water-drawing Libations’.  The descriptions of this ceremony are astounding.  There was ongoing music, dancing, singing and Sages juggling burning torches!  The Talmud specifically mentions Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, who juggled 8 burning torches at once, and never let them touch each other. 

In fact, the Talmud states that if someone has not seen the celebration of these water libations, they have not experienced joy – in other words, we don’t know from parties.   

Sukkot is a unique holiday because there are holidays within the holiday.  On the seventh day of Sukkot, Hoshana Rabah, we take our lulav and etrog and walk around the sanctuary in circuits as we recite the Hoshanot.  The day marks the end of the High Holidays, as the decisions of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are made, sealed, and now delivered.  It is a ceremony filled with Jewish mysticism — a step back into our ancient past.  If we watch this moment from a birds-eye view, everyone below looks like a current of water flowing round and round.  The medium becomes the message, as we pray for water, it is our bodies that express the prayer. 

For all of us who have ever danced a hora at a simcha (also called the Mayim dance), we have emulated the water libation dancing.  The words to the hora begin: ‘ushoftem mayim bisasson, mimaynei hayishua’, ‘and you will draw water in joy from the waters of salvation’ – a quote referring to Simchat Beit HaShoeiva – the Joy of the Water-drawing Libations. 

Soon we will transition out of our holiest time of the year, as we should.  We need to go back to the mundane, but if we’re lucky, we can carry some of these moments with us in the coming year.   

May we all enter a year of peace, abundance, and health.  May we dance a hora or two with the images of Rabbis juggling burning torches, and may we learn to experience joy that has no limit. 

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

  

Shabbat shalom, Umoadim lesimcha, 

Rachael 

Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Ha’azinu

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This week’s Torah portion, Ha’azinu, is the song Moses composes and delivers to Israel. He worries about Israel’s welfare, and the nation’s struggle with God. Moses repeatedly warns Israel never to underestimate their inclination to deny God, nor God’s response. 

At the same time, we are at the threshold of the holiday of Sukkot, the time we celebrate following God in the wilderness and learning of Divine Love and Divine Protection. It is the time we built our relationship with God. 

These two messages sit side by side this Shabbat. As Jews, we always struggle with understanding God, and the demands of our Judaism. At the same time, we celebrate that same relationship, those same challenges and demands.  

Moses’ worry is that we won’t keep the values of Torah close to our hearts. He refers to it as ‘this song’. He worries we will not teach our children to sing the song of Torah. Of all our leaders, Moses saw firsthand that if the generational chain is not well established, it can begin to disappear – Moses witnessed this in Egypt as slavery took its toll. 

Interestingly, another name for the holiday of Sukkot is ‘Zman Simchateinu’, the Time of Our Joy’. The name itself speaks directly of the message Moses is expressing. His warnings are dire, and the picture he paints is stark, but he always stresses how Torah must be inherited, taught, sung, and enjoyed. 

Through the prophets, God stated how sweet the memory is of our time together in the wilderness, when we followed God with complete trust – when we expressed ‘chesed’ to God in our youth, when we dwelled in our Sukkot.  

Moses worried we wouldn’t understand how important Torah is in our lives. When we sit in a Sukkah, we assure him we won’t ever forget. 

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

Shabbat shalom and Chag Sukkot Sameach, 

Rachael