Rabbit Hole graphic

Friday, January 9, 2015

This 21st century Jew and Halacha


My relationship with Halacha feels confusing, disconcerting to me. In some ways the more I study it, the more is seems logical and even wise, demonstrating a great understanding of human nature-then and now.  In other ways, it feels demeaning, completely irrelevant and bordering on absurdity.   The lynchpin of those conflicting thoughts is that on an intellectual level  I (sometimes) feel like I have no business being a rabbi.  On a practical and emotional level, on the other hand, I have had very many experiences that confirm for me, my ability to blend the Halacha with my knowledge and understanding of (many of) the longings and needs of contemporary Jewry (especially in the States).  For me personally, as a teacher and model, this blending of halacha with a deep understanding of what contemporary Jews are looking for,  works as an effective tool! (A discussion of what “works” means is also interesting and not unrelated to the subject, but for another time.)
One day in November (2014) at the Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem where I am studying, we had a שיעור כללי , a teaching/lesson for the entire community, learning together.  My chevruta (study partner) was a Nativ [1] student, a young woman who grew up in a Modern Orthodox family in Baltimore.  She is one of 8 children.  Theirs is a close knit family.  Their Jewish practice and Jewish values are the basis of their family life.  Both of her parents work and did so for all of her time at home. The children took care of most of the cooking, preparation for Shabbat and holidays.  All the children were home schooled until they went to a Jewish High school.  This young woman speaks quietly and with humility of her Jewish practice-as a way of life, a way of being, as responsible for who she is, in large part as a result of the memories she has from her childhood and as a young adult.
We were studying Hilchot Yom Tov, the laws of our festivals.  Our text was Rambam’s (Maimonides’) Mishna Torah.  Chapter 1 Halacha (law) 16: “We have explained the obligation implied by honor and delight in [the Sabbath] in Hilchot Shabbat. “  Halacha 17, Deut. 16:14 “You shall rejoice in your festivals….Included in [this charge to] rejoice is that he, his children, and the members of his household should rejoice, each one in a manner appropriate to him.”  We shared memories with each discussion of what we had read-what she remembered from her family’s observance; memories that I tried to create with my husband, for our children.  Without Jewish memory, it is not possible to have a Jewish identity.   Neither her memories nor mine were consciously based in Halacha and yet we were surprised to discover that in her family of origin and in the family which me and my husband created together, our practices were a direct reflection of the Halacha we were now learning. Although her father in particular had a strong background in Jewish learning, neither family’s practices was consciously based in Halacha. For both of us, Shabbat was a time centered around family.  We both had the custom of inviting a few guests for Shabbat but nothing compared to the numbers we invited for a virtual open house on the chaggim- especially folks who had no place else to go and maybe not enough money to “eat meat and drink wine”.  Halacha 18: “When a person eats and drinks [in celebration of a holiday] he is obligated to feed strangers, orphans, widows, and others who are [may be]…poor”.  Upon reflection of this text last week, it seemed to us, that those behaviors came instinctively.
We wondered:  Are halachot d’oraita (written in Torah) or d’rabbanan (created by the Rabbis as a result of their incredible insight into and understanding of human nature?   Are they (simply) an expression of “natural instincts” of thoughtful people who live spiritually oriented and religiously observant lives?  Was it instinctive for her family and for us, to include social justice/social solidarity in our holiday observance? And to reserve Shabbat for immediate family?  We certainly didn’t connect our observance with the laws of sacrifices when the Temple existed.  We were not aware that those sacrifices were integral to the relationship between the Jews of the Bible and God.  Nor did we associate what we were doing with the brilliant creation of a Judaism that would replace the sacrificial system after the Temple was destroyed and sacrifices were no longer possible.  We didn’t know that there was a commandment to rejoice.   Nor was our celebration/observance of Shabbat and holidays a conscious manifestation of our service to “the creator of all existence” (Halacha 20)   And having read these laws/commandments last week, we had new questions:  what does it mean to obligate a person to “rejoice in your festivals”?  Can rejoicing be commanded any more than “to love” can be commanded (v’ahavata)?   On the other hand, it felt to us like many of these mitzvot came naturally; it did not feel imposed.
My young friend grew up steeped in Jewish practice.  As she got older she began to formally learn Halacha, ritual, theology, tanach and more.  She lived Judaism, so that when she began to learn it, it was easy to embrace.  It was a reflection of her family life, her life; it made her proud and filled her with love of herself, her family, her religion and her God.   I, on the other hand, grew up with very little observance. When I began to learn Jewish law it didn’t “fit me well”.  It was foreign.  It felt like an imposition.  And yet, there is another remarkable “coincidence” for me that came from the formal learning of Halacha combined with reflecting on the practice I’ve (naturally and also with considerable thought) developed.  The way I live, the way I teach, speak about and model/mentor my version of Jewish practice, points me to the intellectual and emotional conclusion that Halacha is in many ways, a natural outgrowth of the Rabbis understanding of human nature.  They knew, for example, that we would need help curbing our “evil inclination” in the multitude of ways it manifests itself.   What they probably were not aware of is a contemporary phenomenon.  It seems to me that learning and observing (at least some of) the mitzvot/commandments, can help us consciously feel like we are partnering with God to make the world a more just, safe, happy and fulfilling place for all of God’s creations- and with that recognition comes pride in being Jewish.  Those goals, of partnering with God and helping Jews be proud of being Jewish, are essential to my humanity as well as to my Rabbinate (with God’s help, some day!)  I imagine the former to be on the agenda of many human beings.  As trite as it sounds, time and time again, Judaism, Jewish practice itself provides me with a roadmap/GPS toward those destinations.  I know that part of the purpose for my being on this earth is to help us orient ourselves toward Judaism in the direction of a fulfilling, meaningful, God centered life.   Judaism is bookmarked in my list of favorite destinations in my GPS.  May we all be blessed with the ability to be open to see and find nourishment in the multitude of “alternate routes” toward Judaism that we will find when we type it into our GPS.


[1] Nativ is a gap program for 18 year old high school graduates

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Will the tooth-fairy still visit even if I swallowed my tooth?



The 5 year old son of my nephew (yes, that would be my great-nephew) lost his first tooth a couple of weeks ago.  He was eating an apple-for the express purpose of facilitating the expulsion of his loose tooth.   All that his parents found was a spot of blood on the apple–the tooth was never seen again!
When Nachshon (I have changed the name to protect his innocence) realized what at that time seemed like a tragedy, he said with a prayerful voice, “I really hope the tooth fairy will still visit-even if I swallowed my tooth.  I know I wasn’t supposed to swallow the tooth.  And now I can’t leave it for the tooth fairy because it was somewhere in my belly.  Maybe she will be angry and she won’t pay attention to how much, in my heart, I want her to come.”
Nachshon’s question riddled the best minds of our family all over the world (including me, here in the Holy land).  Would the tooth fairy come even though he swallowed his tooth?
Nachshon’s mommy was pretty sure the tooth fairy would come.  She assured him that no harm would come to him from accidentally swallowing his tooth.  “It will just come out when you go to the bathroom”, Mommy offered. “I sure hope it doesn’t come out of my penis!” Nachshon replied!  (There’s no moss growing on that kid, right?)
My great nephew’s question and his intense and very natural desire for the tooth fairy to come, felt similar to what is often the reality of my prayer life.  What if I don’t do it right?  And what if I’m so focused on doing it “right” that I can’t control my mind and my heart to focus on my relationship with God?  If I don’t pray the right way, at the right time, following the keva of our written prayer service, will God still hear my prayers-let alone answer them?   
The image of what happened to two of Aaron’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, is hard to get out of my mind. 
א  וַיִּקְחוּ בְנֵי-אַהֲרֹן נָדָב וַאֲבִיהוּא אִישׁ מַחְתָּתוֹ, וַיִּתְּנוּ בָהֵן אֵשׁ, וַיָּשִׂימוּ עָלֶיהָ, קְטֹרֶת; וַיַּקְרִיבוּ לִפְנֵי יְהוָה, אֵשׁ זָרָה--אֲשֶׁר לֹא צִוָּה, אֹתָם.
1 And Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, took each of them his censer, and put fire therein, and laid incense thereon, and offered strange fire before the LORD, which He had not commanded them.
ב  וַתֵּצֵא אֵשׁ מִלִּפְנֵי יְהוָה, וַתֹּאכַל אוֹתָם; וַיָּמֻתוּ, לִפְנֵי יְהוָה.
2 And there came forth fire from before the LORD, and devoured them, and they died before the LORD.
Or what if, like Nachshon, I prayed (only) according to my own needs, why would God listen to me?  My teacher Bonna Devora Haberman called my attention to that same question with regard to Moshe when he is pleading with God to let him actually go into Canaan in Deut. 3:23.  
כג  וָאֶתְחַנַּן, אֶל-יְהוָה, בָּעֵת הַהִוא, לֵאמֹר.
23 And I besought the LORD at that time, saying:
כד  אֲדֹנָי יְהוִה, אַתָּה הַחִלּוֹתָ לְהַרְאוֹת אֶת-עַבְדְּךָ, אֶת-גָּדְלְךָ, וְאֶת-יָדְךָ הַחֲזָקָה--אֲשֶׁר מִי-אֵל בַּשָּׁמַיִם וּבָאָרֶץ, אֲשֶׁר-יַעֲשֶׂה כְמַעֲשֶׂיךָ וְכִגְבוּרֹתֶךָ.
24 'O Lord GOD, you have begun to show your servant your greatness, and your strong hand; for what god is there in heaven or on earth, that can do according to your works, and according to your mighty acts?
כה  אֶעְבְּרָה-נָּא, וְאֶרְאֶה אֶת-הָאָרֶץ הַטּוֹבָה, אֲשֶׁר, בְּעֵבֶר הַיַּרְדֵּן:  הָהָר הַטּוֹב הַזֶּה, וְהַלְּבָנֹן.
25 Let me go over, I pray to you, and see the good land that is beyond the Jordan, that goodly hill-country, and Lebanon.'
In Bonna’s (reassuring) words, prayer is relational.  “If we feel the need to pray, there is an implicit other [who will listen]-in Buber’s words, a ‘Thou’”.  If we are intentional with our prayer, if we direct it (to God) the Divine heart will be inclined toward us.  Words that come from the heart, enter the heart-( indirectly derived from Berachot 6b)
Our prayer reflects the way we see ourselves at a particular moment in our lives-what we need; what we are grateful for; what we are angry about or what we fear.  The insights about ourselves that we gain in the process of prayer, reflect the ongoing process of our living.   So, our prayer, is simultaneously directed at God (God who will incline God’s listening heart) and also gives us insight into our own hearts.
Nachshon wanted the tooth fairy to incline her heart toward him.  He decided to write her a letter explaining the situation (complete with illustration which I will not reproduce here.)  “Dear Tooth Fairy, I think my tooth fell into my belly”.  Sure enough, it worked! The Tooth Fairy came!  She wrote a note of her own to Nachshon (in tiny writing, because tooth fairies are tiny),  grabbed something to drink, went to the bathroom before her long flight back, and sprinkled fairy dust in various places. (She sort of made a mess).  She also left Nachshon a toothbrush, some floss, and a $2 bill.  
One of my theories about prayer is that small children come by it naturally-until we, the adults in their lives, knock that natural tendency out of them!  Maybe Nachshon’s tooth fairy story is evidence of some truth in that theory.
I’ll be reflecting more on the nature of prayer.  Stay tuned.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

When a blessing doesn't feel like a blessing



 34א  וַיַּעַל מֹשֶׁה מֵעַרְבֹת מוֹאָב, אֶל-הַר נְבוֹ, רֹאשׁ הַפִּסְגָּה, אֲשֶׁר עַל-פְּנֵי יְרֵחוֹ; וַיַּרְאֵהוּ יְהוָה אֶת-כָּל-הָאָרֶץ אֶת-הַגִּלְעָד, עַד-דָּן.
 34ד  וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה אֵלָיו, זֹאת הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי לְאַבְרָהָם לְיִצְחָק וּלְיַעֲקֹב לֵאמֹר, לְזַרְעֲךָ, אֶתְּנֶנָּה; הֶרְאִיתִיךָ בְעֵינֶיךָ, וְשָׁמָּה לֹא תַעֲבֹר.
4 And the LORD said to him [Moshe]: 'This is the land which I swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, saying: I will give it to your seed;  I have caused you to see it with your own eyes, but you shall not cross over [to the land]

Simchat Torah, 5775 Nava Tehillah, Jerusalem
We stood in a large circle.  The Torah was completely unrolled and each of us, using a tallit or some other material as a buffer between our fingers and the parchment, held the Torah from the top.  Without looking and without touching the Torah, we each reached over the top of the part we were holding and pointed to a pasuk.   One of the several Torah scholars present came, read the pasuk each one of us had pointed to, translated it and gave us a blessing for the year based on the pasuk.
My heart sank when “my” scholar, Julie, read the pasuk to which I had (by chance?!) pointed. It was Dueteronomy 34:4, written and translated above.  I could tell that she really wanted to find a blessing in those words.  There was a slight strain in her face as she processed the words. Perhaps I was projecting but it seemed to me that she was hoping to turn them into a blessing for me.   And all the while I’m thinking: These lines about the end of Moses’ life, about our (indirect) reminder of his lack of patience, when he hit the rock in order to get water out of it rather than spoke to it as God had commanded.   Moshe would lead the people to the land that God had promised their ancestors…but he would not enter it.  He saw it.  He knew God would fulfill God’s promise to the people.  But even after 40 years of leading them, of putting up with their complaints, of finding solutions to their problems, of the ramifications of the Golden Calf, Moshe would see the promised land, but he would not cross over into it.  Was this to be my blessing?  My promised land is the rabbinate.   In many significant ways, having lived my life for 60 years was the beginning of my preparation for this goal.  I’ve learned through five years of rabbinical school and survived cancer in the process.  I struggled with my “not so young” and now compromised by chemotherapy, brain.  Despite that Moses knew long before he was at the precipice of entering  Canaan, that he would not enter, he must have felt profoundly sad and disappointed.  Could Julie find a blessing for me in Moshe’s having spent his entire life leading the people to the precipice of Canaan, which he would only see it?  She tried.  She blessed me with the ability to see, to look at and be aware of everything that was around me, like Moshe was.  Her blessing included that I should be humble like Moses, that I should have perseverance and the ability to look north and south, east and west to see and to appreciate the beauty of all of God’s creation.  But I did not feel I had received a blessing.  That I would have any connection to Moshe’s “coming up short” felt more like a curse.  Taking my blessing of seeing, I was determined to find my as yet uncovered blessing, in Deuteronomy 34:4; that I would be like Moses, humble, compassionate and caring.   Maybe, like Moshe, I would be blessed with a long life, one in which neither my vision (both literal and otherwise) nor my physical strength, would diminish.   Maybe, though falling short of my promised land, I would know God, perhaps not face to face, but as more than an acquaintance.  Maybe I would be aware of God as more of a constant presence in my life-and that would suffice.  Even thinking those thoughts however, left me feeling anxious.  Why couldn’t I both reach my “promised land” and as part of that journey, have evolved in my partnership with God?
When I shared my experience with my beloved husband, it did not surprise me that he had a different and much more hopeful, understanding of the blessing intended for me from this pasuk.  In addition to having led the people to the land of Canaan, Moshe was a teacher of B’nai Yisrael.  He was a transmitter of Torah from God to the generation that entered the promised-land.  With patience, constant reminders, occasional reprimands and repetition, Moshe taught Torah to the people-God’s people.  The blessing in Deuteronomy 34:4, my connection to it, is not, as I had imagined, in a literal interpretation of the situation in which Moshe found himself, but in the way he had led his life, in his love of God and Torah, in his compassion and his teaching and in the trust and respect and love that B’nai Yisrael had for him-and do to this day. וְלֹא-קָם נָבִיא עוֹד בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל, כְּמֹשֶׁה, אֲשֶׁר יְדָעוֹ יְהוָה, פָּנִים אֶל-פָּנִים; There has never arisen another prophet in Israel, like Moshe-that he knew God, face to face.   Deut. 34:10
Moshe received Torah from God but he did not keep it only for himself.  He spent his life giving it, teaching and sharing it with B’nai Yisrael. For every teaching of Torah that came from God to Moshe, at least one flowed out.  Moshe received and he gave in equal measure.  The Torah lives because it is shared, taught to each subsequent generation.  My teacher Rabbi Or Rose teaches about parsha ve-zot ha-Berakhah: “We are told that we are all Moses’s disciples; he is the da’at, the mind or awareness of Israel, and that passes on to us through the chain of tradition.  But we also know that da’at has to be renewed in each generation.[1]

So, here is take 2 of my blessing based on Deuteronomy 34:4:
May I be blessed to receive Torah from many different people and equally as blessed to be able to share it, to give it and teach it.  May I “be faithful to my teachers”[2] and at the same time understand my students, whether formal or simply as I walk through life, so that I can speak Torah in a way that each one can understand and embrace.  May I help those with whom I engage, see within themselves that spark of God that I see in each one of them.  And may I feel gratitude for the many gifts I have been blessed with during the years of my life.  May I embrace with wisdom and compassion the role that God has intended for me; a blessing in itself since I feel keenly aware of what my purpose is on earth. May I create students of Torah knowingly and unknowingly.  And my I become the best partner with the creator of all life that I can be.




[1] Speaking Torah, spiritual teachings from around the Maggid’s table, Volume 2, Arthur Green, with Ebn Leader, Ariel Evan Mayse and Or N. Rose, p. 154
[2] Ibid, Ariel Evan Mayse, p. 154