Drashot

We live in a time when our most fundamental national institutions are being questioned:the conduct of free and fair elections, the veracity of the press, and even our courts. When a judge makes a ruling these days, the media will often specify which president appointed them. As if that explains a bias that might disqualify them from ruling. Our Torah suggests that the foundations of a society is a free and fair system of justice. “Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may thrive and occupy the land that your God is giving you.” (Deuteronomy 16:20) Commenting on this verse Rashi (12th Century Germany) wrote, “The appointment of honest judges is sufficient merit to keep Israel in life and to settle them in security in their land.” To him, the foundational institution of society is a fair system of justice. It provides security because trust in the fairness of the judicial system builds social cohesion. Commenting on the repetition of the word justice, Ibn Ezra (14th Century Spain) writes, “Moses repeats the word justice to indicate that one should pursue justice justly, whether one gains or loses.” Our Torah is teaching us that fairness is the basis of social stability. Regardless of our personal benefit or loss, we attack these institutions at our own peril. Our leaders should take note.

This Shabbat we have two Torah portions: Re’eh (Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17) and a special portion (Numbers 28:9-15) in honor of the new month (Rosh Chodesh) Elul. Elul precedes the High Holy Days and is a special month to be set aside for reflection and growth. This is a time of preparation so that we enter the Holy Days filled with self-awareness and a desire to change. The final verse of this additional Torah reading goes, “And there shall be one goat as a sin offering to ADONAI, to be offered in addition to the regular burnt offering and its libation.” The goat for the sin offering is in addition to the regular sacrificial offerings. Perhaps we are meant to pay special attention to our sins during the month of Elul, in addition to our regular practice. In our time we rarely use the language of sin, it sounds and feel’s archaic to many of us. In Hebrew the word for sin is chet, in one sense of the word it means missing the mark or falling short. If the language of sin does not resonate for us then we can think in the sense of where we have fallen short, where we have not acted as he wished we had, with our families, our friends, and our community. If we all were to focus on where we have missed the mark and how we might change or grow to get closer doing right more of the time, imagine what our world might be like.

We are now into the second week of the Seven Weeks of Consolation, during which we read special readings from the Prophets (primarily Isaiah and Jermiah) to remind us of the importance of teshuvah (repentance) and self-reflection during the time leading up to the High Holy Days. To grow, personally and spiritually we must make time to do our spiritual work.
In this week’s Torah portion we read one of the best known verses from the Torah, “God subjected you to the hardship of hunger and then gave you manna to eat, which neither you nor your ancestors had ever known, in order to teach you that man does not live by bread alone, but that one may live on anything that ADONAI decrees.” (Deuteronomy 8:3)
The traditional interpretation of this verse is that we should avoid the dangers of consumerism: that we are what we possess. But our Torah teaches something more nuanced. First, that although bread is a staple of the human diet, God has provided us with many life sustaining foods. We do not have to stick with any routine, including diet. We can change what we eat to sustain or improve our health. Second, that a materialistic life is not all there is. In fact, without a spiritual component, a commitment to higher ideals, we are not truly alive. In Pirkei Avot (a Second Century CE collection of Jewish wisdom) we read, “If there is no flour, there is no Torah; if there is no Torah, there is no flour.” (Avot 3:17)
Human beings need both the physical and the spiritual to live. Without sufficient resources we cannot exist. Without a focus on our religious, spiritual, moral and intellectual commitments we are not really alive. This is the time of year to focus on the latter. Let’s all commit to living fully this year.

Tisha b’Av, which we observed last Sunday, is over. We now begin the Seven Weeks of Consolation that lead up to Rosh Hashanah. This is the time of year when we are called to prepare for the High Holy Days. During this time two essential things to consider are our mortality, what do we want to do with the time we have left to us, and our highest values, what matters the most to us. This week’s Torah portion addresses both these issues. It begins with Moses confronting his own mortality and begging God to allow him to enter the Land of Israel, even though he has been told he will not be allowed to do so. It ends with the Shema and the V’ahavta, the recognition that God is one and that indeed all existence is a great unity and that we are commanded to love God and demonstrate that love by the way we live our lives each day. As it says in Pirkei Avot, “Rabbi Tarfon said: the day is short, and the work is plentiful, the laborers are tired, and the reward is great, and the master of the house is insistent.” What do we want to do with the time we have left?

We are now in the three weeks leading up to Tisha b’Av, the fast of the Tenth of Av, that memorializes the destruction of the First and Second Temples. This time period is considered the lowest point in the Jewish calendar. It is the spiritual and emotional nadir of the religious year. 

Our sages taught that the Temple was destroyed because of groundless hatred of Jew against Jew. (Yoma 9b) Whether this is historically accurate or not doesn’t matter. The spiritual lesson our sages were teaching was that we share common values and a common fate with our fellow Jews (or our fellow Americans). When we hate them, we destroy what is most precious. 

We live in a time when hatred for others is rampant, when disagreements over politics or religious practice bleed over into anger, disrespect, contempt and hatred. Our sages teach us that this is how societies tear themselves apart. 

This week’s Torah portion offers a different example. The tribes of Gad and Reuben do not want to enter the Land of Israel. They wish to remain on the east side of the Jordan, which they see as good land for their herds. In exchange they agree to be shock troops. To fight in the front of the Israelites as they conquer the Land of Israel. Moses and God agree to this arrangement. 

If the Temple was destroyed through hatred of Jew against Jew, the example of Gad and Reuben remind of the rabbinic dictum, “All Israel is responsible, one for the other.” (Shevuot 39a) We should keep this in mind as we reflect on our relationship with the State of Israel, or other Jewish groups, or our fellow Americans with whom we disagree. How can we work together, what can we give of ourselves, to build a better society and a stronger Jewish community?

How do we see ourselves? Are we objective in our own self evaluation or are we our own harshest critic? Do we have the self confidence to take risks, to try new things and to grow? Or do we talk ourselves out of things without even trying? For much of the Books of Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers, the Israelites consistently see themselves as weak and incapable. Perhaps this is the legacy of their 400 year enslavement by the Egyptians, but every time they are called on to take a risk or a leap of faith they draw back and complain. Yet others, like King Balak, after whom this week’s Torah portion is named, see them as a threat and fear them. To protect himself he hires the prophet Bilaam to curse them. But, after many plot twists, when Bilam finally sees the Israelites encamped he cannot curse them and instead blesses them, with these words that we all know from the beginning of our service, “How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, Your dwellings, O Israel! They crouch, they lie down like a lion, like a lioness; who dares rouse them? Blessed are they who bless you, Accursed they who curse you!” (Numbers 24:5 and 9) Bilaam sees a beautiful and powerful people. How might their lives have gone differently had they seen themselves as Bilaam did? How much less suffering might they have endured, if they had seen themselves with clearer eyes? What do you see when you look at yourself in the mirror?

We live in a time of profound transition and change. Many of the things we took for granted are either in transition or being questioned. For those of us who grew up in an earlier era, it seems at times as if the ground beneath our feet is no longer stable. Whether climate change, our democratic system, a woman’s right to control her body, family structure, social institutions or even the weather. Nothing seems certain any more. Earlier ways of doing things often seem better because we are used to them, even when they cause suffering for others.
This week’s Torah portion shows us the Israelites in a time of profound transition. During this parsha both Miriam and Aaron die. According to the midrashic tradition, Miriam provided the Israelites with a well of water that followed them throughout their wanderings (Ta’anit 9a). Aaron, of course, mediated their relationship with God as the High Priest.
When Miriam dies the Israelites panic, wondering where their water will come from, now that she is dead. Moses consults God who commands him to order a rock to give water, but Moses flies into a rage, curses the Israelites and strikes the rock with his staff.
Why does Moses disobey God’s command and react so angrily? Perhaps it was his grief over Miriam’s (his sister) death. Perhaps it was his frustration at the Israelites’ ongoing lack of faith despite their ongoing experience of God’s grace and support. But regardless, Moses’ failure to fulfill God’s command and his ensuing rage led to the decree that he too would die in the wilderness and not enter the promised land.
The Buddha is attributed to have said, “In life, we cannot control the first arrow because it represents the unexpected conditions of life. But we can control how we respond to the second arrow, which is fuelled by our reaction and judgment.”
This week’s Torah portion supports this spiritual insight. It is easy, even perhaps natural, to become angry, or panicked, or hopeless in times of change. It is easy to blame others when we find ourselves in conflict, or our society in change. This week’s Torah portion teaches us that this is a dangerous way to be.
Openness and flexibility, combined with faith in God’s goodness (or whatever higher values you hold dear), is the path out of crises. The others lead to greater suffering.

What is the legitimate exercise of power? When do our leaders exercise power in service of the community and the common good and when do they do it for their own needs and purposes? With the rise of so-called “populism,” and authoritarian leaders here at home and around the world, these are significant questions for our time; neither are they new questions. Our Torah addresses this issue in this week’s Torah portion, Korach. Korach, is a member of the Levites and thus a high leader among Israel, challenges Moses for the leadership of the community. He recruits a group of elders, gathers 250 followers and together they challenge Moses’s authority and demand to lead the Israelites in his place, “You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and ADONAI is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above יהוה’s congregation?” (Numbers 16:3) It would seem from his challenge that Korach is speaking up for the people and questioning Moses’s legitimacy, the basis of his power, claiming it is Moses’s ego that has made him claim leadership. Of course it is the opposite. Moses was chosen by God. He did not want to lead the Israelites and tried to refuse the position. Commenting on this verse our sages taught that Korach was accusing Moses of the very thing that drove him to seek power, his ego. He did not care about the welfare of the Israelites nor that God had selected Moses because of his humility. Korach was driven by his need for power and affirmation, as are all narcissists and authoritarians. Throughout history we have seen that when so-called populists are put in power, it is we, the people, who suffer. In the end they do not care about what is best for society and lead it to ruin. In our Torah, Korach and his followers are destroyed by God. We do not enjoy this luxury and must make the choices and take the actions necessary to keep authoritarians away from the institutions of power they do not respect.

We live in difficult and challenging times. The impacts of climate change (or Global warming if you prefer) are no longer something to be feared in the distant future–we are feeling them now. Our nation feels deeply divided over fundamental issues of equal treatment of all our citizens, whether women, or racial minorities, or immigrants or queer; gun safety, policing and violence; even over respect for and conservation of our democratic system of government. It is easy, at moments like this, to give in to despair, to feel that we are helpless, to give up hope for a better future and to do nothing.
This week’s Torah portion contradicts this impulse and urges us to maintain hope, faith and to act. The Israelites have reached the Land of Israel and God commands Moses to send 12 spies (one from each tribe) into the land to scout and return with intelligence on what they see. When they return, all the spies report that the land “does indeed flow with milk and honey” (Numbers 12:27) But, ten of them say that the inhabitants are too powerful for the Israelites to overcome. In a classic example of a lack of self-confidence they say, “we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them.” (Numbers 13:33). All the Israelites take this message to heart and cry out in despair. But two of the spies, Joshua and Calev respond, “Let us by all means go up, and we shall gain possession of it, for we shall surely overcome it.” (Numbers 13:30)
Just as they have overcome every obstacle on their path to freedom, Calev and Joshua are confident that with God’s help and their own faith the Israelites can meet any challenge, no matter how daunting. We know the rest of the story. The Israelites falter, and after a failed attack are condemned to wander in the wilderness for thirty and a half more years, until the generation of slaves is dead.
The Torah is teaching us that with every challenge, no matter how great it may appear, we have a choice: despair and inaction, or hope and change. How we view ourselves is just as important as our commitment to something greater than ourselves. Both are the essential wellsprings of change. What will we choose today?

Dear Congregants, by mistake I missed parashat Naso, the Torah portion for last week and wrote about this week’s Torah portion, Beha’alotecha. I am rerunning it this week to stay up with the weekly cycle of Torah readings.
What would it mean to experience God’s presence in our lives? How would we know? In this week’s Torah portion, “On the day that the Tabernacle was set up, the cloud covered the Tabernacle, the Tent of the Pact; and in the evening it rested over the Tabernacle in the likeness of fire until morning. And whenever the cloud lifted from the Tent, the Israelites would set out accordingly; and at the spot where the cloud settled, there the Israelites would make camp.” (Numbers 9:15-17)
For the ancient Israelites, God was present as a cloud by day and a fire by night. When the cloud hovered over the Tabernacle the Israelites camped, when it lifted they moved on.
Perhaps our decisions would be easier if we had such a clear sign from God. But unfortunately we don’t. When we have a difficult decision to make we cannot look outward for a sign, we must look inward, quietly and try to discern the still small voice that resides within us.
When we do we may find guidance, for God is within us, not outside us.