israel

Rachael’s Thoughts on Parshat Matot/Masei

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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

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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 Chukat

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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 Shlach

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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 Shabbat HaGadol

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This Shabbat is called Shabbat HaGadol – the Grand Shabbat.  It is always the Shabbat before Pesach, and there is much debate in our texts on how it got its name.  An interesting comment suggests that as we prepare to leave Egypt, we are given our first commandment as Jews.  We are told to separate the lamb to be sacrificed at Pesach.  We are still in Egypt, still slaves, yet being commanded to start to think as free people –to make choices.  The first choice we must make is one of identity.  Do we choose covenant and freedom, or do we choose Egypt and slavery?

This same view tells us that the moment of Jewish choosing happens when we are Bnei Mitzvah, when each of us reaches Jewish adulthood.  That is the moment we are responsible for the commandments, and for adding our voice to the choir of Jewish thinkers throughout time.  On that day we become an adult, or, in Hebrew, Gadol.  That is how this Shabbat gets its name.  We step over the threshold into the understanding of freedom and choices.  We accept that while we are commanded to obey the Torah,  it will always boil down to our free will –we choose to express ourselves through this identity.

Starting with Shabbat HaGadol, and growing in excitement as the Seders approach, we remember that our Jewish choices are there to enhance us, to enrich us, and to elevate us.    Lofty ideals, igniting concepts –one might even say stepping into the Grand Shabbat.  How better to prepare for our celebration of freedom!

 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 Tzav

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As we continue to read of biblical sacrifices, we sit today and ask how these commandments can be relevant in our current lives.  Parshat Tzav, this week’s Torah reading, outlines the sacrifices and all their details.  Eventually, Jewish history will bring the sacrificial system to a halt with the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem.  From then on, Judaism forbids the bringing of any sacrifices.

Yet, we continue to read of them, and we continue to mention them in our prayers.  If we are forbidden to bring sacrifices, why do we keep their details so alive?

In fact, Jewish tradition emphasizes sacrifices even more by stating that children should begin their study of Torah with the book of Leviticus, the laws of sacrifices.  One of our oldest texts explains that children begin with studying sacrifices because the goal of the sacrifices was to bring us back to a place of purity, and our children always exist in a state of purity, so “let the pure connect with the pure” and strengthen us.  

The Hebrew word for sacrifice in the Torah is the word korban.  It means ‘drawing near’.  In the ancient world we are taught to draw near to God through physical sacrifices.  Later, the Sages teach us that we can also draw near to God through studying Torah and speaking of the details of sacrifice.  The Midrash tells us that when our children learn of their Judaism, and their priceless legacy of Torah, they draw all of us closer to God.

Physical sacrifices no longer speak to our Jewish reality, but we keep them present in our religious view and our prayers.  We understand that the goal is to create a personal closeness with God and to use the power of that relationship to change the world.  

There are infinite ways to get there –watching our children learn of their ancient unbroken Jewish chain is one of those ways.

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 Pekudei

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This week’s Torah portion, Pekudei, tells us that Moses put the Ten Commandments into the Ark of the Covenant. Both sets of tablets – the ones he broke, and the ones he delivered to Israel. The Ark of the Covenant held both the broken pieces and the whole tablets.
 
When something is broken, it cannot function as intended, and we are taught to throw it away. But when something is broken, it does not mean it is useless. Certain things can still function, sometimes to remind us of important lessons or to motivate us to find repairs. Broken things can be cautionary tales.
 
In Judaism, a core value is our commitment to Tikkun Olam, the repairing of the world. We believe the world is a place filled with cracks and breakage by the very nature of how life functions. We do not walk away. On the contrary, we commit ourselves to find new and creative ways to implement a change, a healing, a repair.
 
Our eyes were meant to move from the shards of broken tablets to the whole ones and back again, always aware that the potential of each to become the other is quite real.
 
This week we’ve been watching one country try to break another. It is happening across an ocean, seemingly distant from us, but we might struggle with layered family histories in both Russia and Ukraine. It’s easy to get confused about what we feel. In these moments we listen to our Jewish values reminding us to respond with support, with donations and with our voices.
 
We remember that the Ark of the Covenant held both the broken and the complete. While we remember the harsh reality of the shattered one, our eyes would always move to the other, inspiring us to find ways of repairing so it becomes whole again.
 
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 Ki Tisa

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Judaism and the arts have always spoken to each other in halting conversations.  The Ten Commandments forbids us graven images. We don’t have a strong history of visual arts.  In fact, we might think that art is discouraged, and perhaps the artist is to be marginalised. But is it all visual art that is forbidden, or is it the creation of an idol?

We definitely have a rich history of singing, dancing and creative storytelling –all the other major art forms.  In fact, some of our most artful quips lie in the legacy of Yiddish curses (‘May our enemies go to hell and only pack sweaters’).  

Even with our hesitancy around visual arts, the Torah this week, in parshat Ki Tisa, discusses the heart of an artist.  We meet the first Jewish artist, Bezalel Ben-Uri, and we immediately notice his name: ‘Bezalel’ means ‘In the shadow of God’, and ‘Ben-Uri’ means ‘Child of My Light’.  The artist is to feel most comfortable in the greys, in the shadows, never seeing the world as black and white.  At the same time, the artist is to see something new, a light, an inspiration.  That is what embeds into the art that is produced, the windows offered for new perspectives.

It continues to say that God inspires the heart of the artist; God is the Divine Muse.  Since God is infused into creation itself, it is the universe that becomes the inspiration.  It is the view of eternity that opens the artist.  

Judaism does not dismiss the artist, on the contrary, we are shown the potential power to inspire and to influence.  We are cautioned not to worship such power or to ignore its influence.  The artists in history have often sacrificed more than we can imagine by being so powerfully inspired.  

In fact, these layers that lie between the artist and God are so complex, we often can’t imagine their implications.  If God answers all prayers, Beethoven is not deaf and the music he gives would not change the world.  

May we always be inspired by these souls.

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 Vayechi

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This week’s Torah reading, Vayechi, which means ‘And he lived,’ contains beautiful messages about life. Our patriarch, Jacob, spends seventeen years in Egypt, and we know that Joseph, his son, was seventeen years old when he was kidnapped. In essence, Jacob is gifted back the same number of years to spend with Joseph, to have a life ‘do over.’ Many moments in life present themselves to us more than once, and we can seize the chance to live them differently. We watch to see if Jacob uses the second seventeen years to parent Joseph differently.
           
Yet, one of the most powerful lessons we learn from Jacob about life happens as he prepares for his death. Jacob blesses Joseph’s sons: Ephraim and Menashe. Joseph lines them up by birth order, but Jacob crosses his arms to place his right hand on the head of the youngest instead of the eldest. Throughout Genesis, we learn that names connect to essence and inform destinies. Joseph named his eldest son ‘Menashe,’ a name that means he hopes to forget the pain of his past, while his youngest son’s name, ‘Ephraim,’ means to be fruitful in his future. One name is negative, and one name is positive. Jacob, their grandfather, crosses his arms so he becomes the conduit through which to balance the names and destinies of his grandchildren. Jacob shows us that balance is key, and that older generations teach life balance.
           
Every Friday night, we place our hands on the heads of our children and we do what Jacob did. Daughters are blessed to be as our matriarchs, and we reverse the order of the names of Leah and Rachel. Sons are blessed to be as Ephraim and Menashe, Jacob’s grandsons, and we reverse the order of their names when we say it.
           
This week, we learn two crucial life lessons from Jacob. We learn that life presents us with parallel moments of choice, moments that centre on us. But we also know we don’t secure the future through us, we secure it through the generations to come, and that the greatest blessing we can give our children, and our grandchildren, is the blessing of balance. 
 
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 Vayigash

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This week’s Torah reading, Vayigash, shows us Joseph’s climactic reunion with his brothers.  As a leader in Egypt, Joseph is unrecognizable to his brothers, and on hearing of Jacob, his aging father, Joseph breaks down and reveals his identity to his brothers.  

The brothers stand dumbfounded as Joseph peppers them with questions about his father.   Never once does he ask why no one came to look for him or if his father found out the truth about what happened.  Joseph inquires after his father’s health and then demands that the brothers bring Jacob to Egypt.  

When we look at Joseph’s instructions to his brothers, we find an interesting comment that seems out of place.  Joseph tells his brothers to bring Jacob to Egypt, and then says they should tell him of all the honours Egypt has given Joseph, his high station, and the grandeur they have witnessed.  We’re suddenly aware of the human moment that speaks to us all: Joseph is trying to impress Jacob.

With all of Joseph’s accomplishments, it is most important to him that his father be made aware.  Every child wants to bring a moment of pride to their parent, to hear the praise of accomplishment, to know they have taken a step forward.  Joseph has sustained hundreds of thousands through a famine, but still feels the need to know that his father, Jacob, is proud of him.

It’s these human moments that speak so strongly to us —we have all stood where Joseph stands.  As adults, we learn to measure our own accomplishments, to find the moments to feel proud of ourselves. As children, we’ve all watched our parents watching us, and learned to recognize that feeling when we see pride in their eyes.  It is the touchstone we all need to build self-confidence –we then learn how to feel proud of ourselves.  

Part of us will always indulge the child within who watches our parent for that moment.  It is timeless, as we connect with the memories of our parents for that same moment, even long after they’ve gone.

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

Shabbat shalom,

Rachael