This week’s Torah portion is a reminder that Judaism is a constantly evolving tradition. In this week’s portion we read, “No Ammonite or Moabite shall be admitted into the congregation of the Lord; none of their descendants, even in the tenth generation, shall ever be admitted into the congregation of the Lord, because they did not meet you with food and water on your journey after you left Egypt, and because they hired Balaam son of Beor, from Pethor of Aram-naharaim, to curse you.” (Deuteronomy 23:4-5) The prohibition seems clear enough: Ammonites and Moabites are prohibited from joining the Jewish people. But later in the Book of Ruth this commandment is violated when Ruth, a Moabite woman, marries Boaz. There is no explanation why this marriage is allowed, but their union leads to Israel’s greatest king, David. Even later, in the Talmud, in Berachot 28A, there is a case of Yehuda, the Ammonite convert who asks to marry an Israelite. Rabbi Gamliel refuses permission because of our verse from Torah. But Rabbi Yehoshua disagrees, arguing that the Assyrians destroyed Ammon and Moav and exiled their people, so there is no longer such thing as an Ammonite. His argument carries the day and the marriage is allowed. It seems that, at least in this case, history trumps Torah. From these examples we see that Judaism lives with an essential dynamic tension: to remain true to its core values and traditions, but changing to adapt to modern times. If we are too conservative, our tradition becomes static and irrelevant. If we are too willing to change, Judaism becomes so watered down it loses its unique meaning. The challenge is to live within this tension.

The primary focus of this week’s Torah portion is on ritual behavior: appropriate locations for sacrifice, a warning against worshipping false gods, the basics of kashrut — what foods can and cannot be eaten. In the midst of these ritual commandments there is this warning, “If, however, there is a needy person among you, one of your kinsmen in any of your settlements in the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not harden your heart and shut your hand against your needy kinsman. Rather, you must open your hand and lend him sufficient for whatever he needs. Beware lest you harbor the base thought, ‘The seventh year, the year of remission, is approaching,’ so that you are mean to your needy kinsman and give him nothing.” (Deuteronomy 15:7-9)

As we approach the High Holy Days, with all their ritual pomp and liturgical splendor, it is important to remember that our relationship with our fellow human beings in need is just as important as our relationship to the Divine. We show our greatest commitment to God and to Judaism not just through prayer and study, but when we take action to improve the lives of others.

We are all familiar with this week’s Torah portion. We sing part of it at the beginning of every service, “Mah tovu, ohalecah Ya’akov… How goodly are your tents O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel.” (Numbers 24:5) King Balak hires the itinerant prophet Bila’am to curse the Israelites, but instead, when he sees their encampment, how they live in the world, he is moved to bless them. But a few verses earlier there is a more ambiguous stanza, “As I see them from the mountain tops, gave on them from the heights, there is a people that dwells apart, not reckoned among the nations.” (Numbers 23:9) This verse seems to describe a unique characteristic of the Jewish people: always scattered among the nations of the earth, Jews have chosen to retain a distinct identity and kinship. Whether based on a sense of being a chosen people, or having a unique covenanted relationship with God, or particular religious mission, or ethnicity, or culture, Jews to this day cling fiercely to a sense of uniqueness. Even when Jews want to assimilate and disappear, we have not always been given that opportunity by the rest of the world. Israel is judged by a higher standard than other nations. Whether that is fair or not, one reason is that we claim to a special nation and as the nation-state of the Jewish people, others take our claim seriously.  The question is not whether we are chosen or whether Jews are unique, for all peoples are unique. The question is rather whether we choose to live lives that meet the challenge of our claim.

This week Miriam dies. In the Torah it says, “The Israelites arrived in a body at the wilderness of Zin on the first new moon, and the people stayed at Kadesh. Miriam died there and was buried there. The community was without water, and they joined against Moses and Aaron.” What does the lack of water have to do with Miriam’s death? Rashi, the great medieval French Torah commentator, noticing this juxtaposition of Miriam’s death and the people crying out for water, brings a midrash that says, “because of the merit of Miriam, a well followed the Israelites for their 40 years in the desert.” This magical well provided the Israelites all the water they needed until her death and then it disappeared. With the well gone, the Israelites panicked. They didn’t know where their next drink would come from. Miriam, like a good leader, served and sustained her people. But great leaders do something more, that Miriam did not. They help their people develop self-reliance, so that the leader is no longer necessary. The best leaders cultivate not dependence, but independence.

This week’s Torah portion is about leadership. Korach, a Levite, challenges Moses’ leadership and says to him, “You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation?” (Numbers 16:2) We are so used to questioning authority that the question seems perfectly reasonable. But if you’ve been following the story, you know who appointed Moses leader: God. Korach knows this too; he has seen Moses in action. Further, Moses is the most humble of all people. He never wanted to lead the Israelites; he was compelled to by God. All of his service is for the benefit of the community. But why does Korach want to lead? Our rabbis say, for his own sake, because he desired power. This is a good test for our leaders today. Why do they want power, to be of service to others or to gratify their own needs? It is also a good test of our own motivations in our families, our congregation, and in our communities. Let all us all strive to be more like Moses, humble and dedicated to the needs of others, and less like Korach, driven by our own needs and desires.

This week’s Torah portion begins with the incident of the spies. God commands Moses to select one member of each tribe to go into the Land of Cana’an to scout it out. They return from their mission and report that the land is beautiful but inhabited by giants in great walled cities. “We looked like grasshoppers to ourselves…” (Numbers 13:32). Lacking faith, the people refuse to obey God’s command to conquer the land. They are afraid they will fail. After God tells them they will wander for 40 years until the generation of slaves dies off, in desperation they decide to attack and, of course, they are defeated. The portion ends with the command to put tzitzit (fringes) on the “corners” of their garments. “Thus you shall be reminded to observe all My commandments and to be holy to your God.” (Numbers 14:40) Lacking faith, either in God or themselves, the people are given a tool to help them grow in faith and spirit—to become holy. Faith and fear are two sides of the same coin. In faith we can do the impossible. In fear we wander the aimlessly in the wilderness.

On Yom Kippur we read, “Yom Kippur atones for sins committed by humans toward God. But it cannot atone for sins committed by one human being against another.” What does this mean? This week’s Torah portion explains, “When a man or woman commits any wrong toward a fellow man, thus breaking faith with the Lord, and that person realizes his guilt, he shall confess the wrong that he has done. He shall make restitution in the principal amount and add one-fifth to it, giving it to him whom he has wronged.” (Numbers 5:5-7) In other words, guilt and confession are not sufficient for atonement when we have wronged another person. The most important thing we must do is to correct the damage we have caused. It is not sufficient to restore property; we must also pay 20% in damages. Or if we hurt someone, it is not enough to say we are sorry. We must put in extra effort to repair the relationship we have damaged. Judaism is not a cop-out for responsibility. Being religious, “keeping faith with God,” requires that we maintain the highest level of integrity in our personal relationships.

Pesach is our holiday of liberation and of rebirth as a free people. This Shabbat, the Shabbat immediately preceding Pesach is called Shabbat ha Gadol, the great Sabbath. It is one of four special Shabbats that fall between Purim and Pesach. In traditional communities Shabbat ha Gadol was the time when the rabbi would remind the congregation of the special laws regarding the removal of hametz and kashering homes in preparation for the Pesach holiday. The day is also marked by a special Haftorah reading, Malachi 3:4-24, that speaks of the promised messianic redemption and ends with these words, “Lo, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before the coming of the awesome, fearful day of the Lord.  He shall reconcile parents with children and children with their parents.” Pesach, the redemption of Hebrew slaves from bondage, is the model of the future redemption of all mankind. A promise of a time when all human beings will turn to one another in love, as one big family. Pesach is a reminder that slavery can be overcome and humanity can be redeemed. May we all enjoy this season of freedom and rebirth together.

~Rabbi Dean

This week we begin the book of Leviticus, or Vayikra in Hebrew. Vayikra means to be called as in, “The Lord called to Moses and spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting.” (Leviticus 1:1) To be called, that is to be drawn to a certain task, or field of work, or to make a particular contribution to the world, is not generally considered to be a Jewish idea. It is sounds “too Christian” to have a calling. But a cursory look at the Torah sees that God calls many to a particular task; just a few are Abraham, Moses, David, Isaiah, Jeremiah and Elijah. Each was singled out to perform a particular task in service to the Jewish people. Each of them resisted at first, but ultimately responded. According to Jewish tradition, each of us has a calling, a special purpose. The challenge is to be open to it, to respond to it and then to do it.

~Rabbi Dean

This week’s Torah reading marks the end of the Book of Exodus and deals with the planning and construction of the Tabernacle. What could be more important than the construction of the Tabernacle, where the Jewish people are to meet God through sacrificial service? It turns out there is one thing that is more important: Shabbat. The portion begins with these words, ”Moses then convoked the whole Israelite community and said to them: These are the things that the Lord has commanded you to do:  On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a sabbath of complete rest, holy to the Lord;” (Exodus 35:1-2) Even before they are told what they must do to build the Tabernacle the Jews are instructed that they must keep the Sabbath. All tasks, even the most holy, have limits. How much the more so in the more mundane aspects of our daily lives.  This week’s portion reminds us that we must take time to rest, reflect, and refresh ourselves. When we do that we can bring the best of ourselves to the other tasks of our lives.

~Rabbi Dean