Month: January 2022

Parashah Ponderings

Just do it. The understanding will come later.

Daniel Aronson's avatarDaniel Aronson Leave a comment

Parashat Mishpatim 5782 / פָּרָשַׁת מִּשְׁפָּטִים
Torah Portion: Exodus 21:1-24:18

Last week we read about God’s spectacular revelation directly to the People of Israel of aseret hadibrot, popularly translated as “the Ten Commandments” but more accurately translated as “the ten utterances.” Immediately upon witnessing this revelation, the people implore Moses: “You speak to us… and we will obey; but let not God speak to us, lest we die.” After calming the people down, Moses obliges their request and serves as the intermediary between God and the people for the delivery of the remaining 603 mitzvot (commandment). (Jewish tradition counts 613 mitzvot total.) The reading ends with God beginning privately to dictate those mitzvot to Moses.

The private dictation to Moses of the remaining mitzvot really takes off in this week’s reading as God reveals another 53 mishpatim (rules or laws).  These laws cover a vast range of legal territory: civil law, damages, family purity, ritual practice, criminal law, and more. Because of the legislative focus of these chapters, they are known in English as “The Book of the Covenant,” (sefer ha-brit, in Hebrew). 

Near the end of this parasha (Torah portion), Moses reads “The Book of the Covenant” aloud to the People of Israel, who respond with these famous words: “All that the Lord has spoken we will faithfully do (na-aseh v’nishma)” (Ex. 24:7). The phrase “na-aseh v’nishma” literally means “we will do and we will hear/understand/heed.” These words have been interpreted throughout the ages to mean Israel accepted God’s Torah unflinchingly, essentially saying: “We will first do whatever You command and only afterwards seek to discern Your intent or find meaning in your mitzvot.” 

There is a teaching in the Talmud that says that God lifted Mt. Sinai up and held it over the heads of the
Israelites to persuade them to accept the Torah. “Do this or else!” But there’s another, gentler, kinder midrash on the giving of the Torah in which the sages imagine God offering the Torah to all the nations of the world. Until God came to Israel, all the other nations had inquired “What is written in it?” When they learned that the Torah would require them to take on commandments that ran antithetical to their pagan beliefs, they rejected it. Finally, God came to Israel, who responded: “Na-aseh v’nishma.” To the rabbis, Israel was like “a lily among thorns” (Song of Songs 2:2). They accepted the Torah out of love of God, not out of fear.

Are we today supposed to just do things because we’re told to? The idea of acting before really knowing why seems anathema to our modern sensibilities. In an age of rational decision-making and limited resources, including our own time and energy, aren’t we inclined to justify our every move before taking action? One of the reasons that so few Jews are religiously observant is that they see no reason to observe mitzvot, especially those pertaining to ritual. Most Jewish ritual, after all, is meaningless to them and, therefore, not worth expending their resources on.

But here’s the thing. At least in my experience, I’ve found great meaning in rituals and mitzvot that I began to practice before really knowing why. Lighting candles on Shabbat is one example. As a kid, it was just something my mother did because, I thought, “That’s just what Jews do.” Now, as an adult with a maturing theology, with a need to step back from the week’s activities, and with children of my own, I see in the candles much more than a nod to Jewish Peoplehood. The candles symbolize a much-needed spiritual infusion at the end of the week. The lighting itself affords my family and me a moment of quiet and togetherness that we rarely experience on a workaday basis.

I could go on about other rituals and mitzvot that I first tried on because “That’s what Jews do” and which have become a meaningful part of my life: keeping kosher, wearing a kippah, feeding my pets before feeding myself, and on and one. But I’m sure you get the point.

I encourage you to take this test: 

Read about the 613 Biblical mitzvot at http://www.jewfaq.org/613.htm and the additional 7 mitzvot discerned by the rabbis in the Talmud at http://www.askmoses.com/en/article/411,429/What-are-the-seven-rabbinic-mitzvahs.html. Pick just one that you are not currently doing and just start doing it. Commit to taking on this one new mitzvah for six months and discover for yourself how the meaning and purpose of the mitzvah emerges for you. This process may require you to look up the mitzvah www.myjewishlearning.com or other sites because sometimes the meaning emerges from discussion with others or from the suggestions of our sages. 

If after the six months you still haven’t found a good enough reason to continue with the mitzvah, return it for a full refund. As for “no questions asked,” forget it. Asking questions is another meaningful thing that Jews just do.

Parashah Ponderings

Crossing the Sea — We’ve all been there.

Daniel Aronson's avatarDaniel Aronson Leave a comment

Parashat Beshalach 5782 / פָּרָשַׁת בְּשַׁלַּח
Torah Portion: Exodus 13:17-17:16

The quintessential image of redemption in Judaism is undoubtedly the crossing of the Sea of Reeds, which we read about in this week’s Torah reading. The similarities between this final act of liberation from slavery and the experience of birth are remarkable: the nascent nation passes from a place of literal and metaphorical darkness through a narrow, moist canal to emerge into a wide-open space filled with light and possibility. In fact, the exodus from Egypt marks the beginning of the birth of our nation. Prior to that they existed arguably as little more than cells in the body of Egypt with no independent identity of their own. They cross the sea as infants and begin the long, painful process of growth, maturity and self-actualization. At Sinai they enter adolescence, receiving the Torah that will bind them not only to God but to one another. Wandering for 40 years, the People will learn how to be true to that covenant, maturing in adults. Once they enter the Land of Israel as “adults” they will take all that they know and invest their energies into building a future for generations to come. This whole process begins with the birth of the Nation of Israel at the Sea of Reeds.

Beyond representing birth, the crossing of the sea effectively symbolizes all those times in our lives when we’ve emerged from places of distress and despair, when we’ve overcome trying circumstances, when we’ve regained our sense of wholeness, our well-being. Indeed, this moment symbolizes all kinds of transitions that entail moving from a known, often comfortable place, to a place of mystery, where anything can happen.

Try this guided meditation on life’s transitions. Imagine yourself on the Egyptian side of the Sea of Reeds. What is your current Egypt or the place where you currently feel most comfortable? (Remember, there was a large group of Israelites who didn’t like being slaves but found comfort in the familiarity of that life.) Now, imagine yourself in the Sea of Reeds, in transition to something new and exciting. Is there a way in which you feel in transition at this time in your life? Finally, imagine yourself on the far end of the Sea, where the People of Israel sing and dance. Are you in such a place? Have you recently emerged triumphant from a transition, whether it was a painful transition or relatively easy?

The questions I have posed are ones that we will ask as we read Shirat HaYam this Shabbat on Shabbat Shirah, the Shabbat of Song. That “song” is the poem that Moses and the people sang so joyously upon realizing they were now free, the song that contains the refrain of Mi Chamocha from our Shabbat and weekday services and which was popularized in Disney’s Prince of Egypt. Shirat HaYam has its own beautiful melody. I hope you’ll have a chance to hear it chanted and to “cross the sea” with our ancestors.

In case you’re not able to make it to a synagogue service this week, here are a couple of videos where you can learn more about Shirat Hayam and hear it chanted:

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Dan

Parashah Ponderings

A Moment and A Life of Watching

Daniel Aronson's avatarDaniel Aronson 1 Comment

Parashat Bo / פרשת בא
Torah Portion: Exodus 10:1 – 13:16

Our reading this week, Parashat Bo, marks the end of Israel’s enslavement in Egypt. We read about the final three plagues that God brings upon Pharaoh and his people: locusts, darkness and death of Egypt’s firstborn children and cattle; it is this final plague that finally prompts Pharaoh to declare: “Up, depart from among my people, you and the Israelites with you!” (Exodus 12:31). Though Pharaoh is caught by surprise by this final plague, the Israelites are well-prepared: they have marked their doorposts with the blood of the pascal lamb, the pesach offering, so the Angel of Death will pass over their homes. When they finally get the word from Pharaoh to depart, only their bread hasn’t risen; they, on the other hand, are up and ready to go.

This night of terror and liberation is referred to as “leyl shimorim,” “a night of watching” in our reading:

Leyl shimorim hu ladonai l’hotziam me-eretz mitrayim. Hu ha-laila hazeh ladonai shimorim l’chol bnai yisrael l’dorotam.

It was a night of watching of God to take them out of the Land of Egypt. That very night was to God one of watching for all the Children of Israel (Ex. 12:42).

Why does the Torah employ this term “leyl shimorim” to the night of Israel’s liberation? Whose watching is it: Israel’s or God’s? What exactly is God or Israel watching out for? As with most questions arising from a close reading of Torah, there is more than one answer. In fact, we learn here that the night of watching is both that of God and of the Israelites, each watching for something different.

On the face of it, it appears that the night of watching belongs to God. That’s the plain meaning of the Hebrew. God is watching over Israel, guarding and protecting God’s people. As the Angel of Death wreaks devastation upon the Egyptians, God checks the doorposts of the Israelites for the blood of the pesach offer, making sure that the Angel of Death stays far away from those homes. Thus, the leyl shimorim is one of God’s watching God’s own agent of destruction pass over the Israelites.

The medieval French commentator, Rashi, however, posits that the night of watching belongs to Israel. The Israelites had waited 430 years for this moment, so on this night they remain awake, eating their pesach offering with “loins girded and sandals on their feet” (Ex. 12:11). The Israelites eagerly anticipate God’s ultimate act of redemption. More accurately, they anticipate God becoming manifest through their own liberation.

On Passover, we are to emulate Israel’s readiness to be saved on that night of watching. The haggadah – the prayerbook we follow during the seder, the typically home-based evening meal and service – tells of five sages who stay up all night discussing the exodus from Egypt. As the sun begins to rise, their students interrupt their discussion and remind their teachers that the time to recite the morning prayers has arrived. The sages had become so engrossed in their learning that they lost track of time. Or, perhaps, they were reliving the night of watching experienced by their ancestors hundreds of years earlier, a night of anticipating Divine salvation. Perhaps they were modeling a vigilance that we should maintain all the time.

In our own day, not just during Passover but everyday, we are wise to put ourselves in the sandals of our biblical ancestors and to follow the lead of our rabbinic sages. Jewish religion aims to ingrain within us a readiness to behold God’s presence in our lives, to be aware of those moments of awe, majesty, and beauty that point to the One God, to witness God’s might. Judaism teaches that we are to say 100 blessings a day in part to keep us alert to God’s nearness.

Let ours be not a night of watching for a wondrous sign of God’s love, but a life of watching out for all kinds of manifestations of godliness in our lives, manifestations both magnificent and mundane. And may we do so with the faith that God continues to watch over us as God did for Israel during the night of our liberation.

Shabbat Shalom.