Drashot

On Tuesday, June 15, California officially “reopened.” I don’t really know what that means, for us as a society or for me as an individual. But we are emerging from our fear and isolation to some kind of reopening of our society. What it will look like is still unclear, but this is a moment of transition. We have been taught hard lessons about our vulnerability and our mortality. 

Control has been shown to be an illusion, time and again. In this week’s Torah portion the Israelites wander for 38 years and Miriam and Aaron die in quick succession. The Israelites are terrified at these deaths, for Miriam provided them with water (through the miraculous well that followed her wherever Israel wandered, according to the midrash) and Aaron mediated the people’s relationship with God through his sacred service in the Tabernacle. He literally held back death. Now both are dead and the Israelites fear for the worst. 

According to our tradition, their fear is so great they cannot even comfort Moses when Miriam dies. Instead, they attack him with questions on how they will get water. 

At moments of crisis and transition we always have a choice. Will we act with compassion and empathy or will we act out in fear and anger. 

As we come back together as a congregation and a society, It is good for us to remember this choice and rebuild our social connections with empathy and love.

~Rabbi Dean Kertesz

Leadership as service is such a simple idea: the role of a leader is to serve the people. But few leaders live up to this ideal. Maybe it just takes too much ego to aspire to leadership. After all, you have to think a lot of yourself to believe you can be an effective leader. 

Perhaps that is why so many leaders today seem tone-deaf and more in tune with their own needs than the needs of those they are supposed to serve. Bibi Netanyahu in Israel and Donald Trump immediately come to mind, as supposed populists, men-of-the people, who seem to be out for themselves. 

There is one exception–Moses. Who never wanted to lead the Israelites in the first place and was forced by God to accept the job. Our Torah calls him the humblest of all people. 

This week he is confronted by Korach, a type we are all familiar with, who claims that Moses is a fraud and only interested in leadership for his own sake. (Numbers 6:3) We are familiar by now with this type of projection. Often what a demagogue accuses someone of is in fact a projection of their own failings. So Moses, in his humble way, says to Korach, “Let God decide who is fit to lead.” (Numbers 6:8). So the next morning, Moses and Aaron met Korach, Dathan, Aviram and all their followers. The outcome is swift and decisive: the earth opens up and swallows them whole, while fire incinerates their 250 followers. Only Moses’ intervention saves the Israelites. 

We do not have God to demonstrate to us who is a good leader and who is not and to destroy those who seek to mislead the people, so we must test them. Perhaps the best and simplest one is to support leaders who are humble, like Moses. This week’s Torah portion teaches us that charisma is overrated and humility is to be prized. Humility leads to service.

If this year has taught us anything, it is that life is unpredictable. When we open our eyes and see life as it is we understand that it is about change and adaptation. As much as we may crave stability we know that is an illusion. 

In this week’s Torah portion the Israelites are at a moment of change as they stand on the edge of the Land of Israel. God commands Moses to send 12 scouts to explore the land, to see what it is like and what it will take to conquer and settle it. 

After 40 days they return and they report that land is good, “We came to the land you sent us to; it does indeed flow with milk and honey,” (Numbers 13:27) But ten of them add a note of fear: “the people who inhabit the country are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large;” and then, they add this, “we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them.” 

What a phrase, how it expresses their lack of self-confidence. They can’t see their strength, only their insufficiencies. Except for two of the scouts, Joshua and Calev, who say, “Have no fear then of the people of the country, for they are our prey” 

What enabled them to maintain their courage when others lost theirs? In midrash from the Talmud, Raba says, “‘Caleb separated himself from the the spies, went to Hebron, prostrated himself upon the graves of the Patriarchs.’”  In other words, Calev drew on his Jewish tradition, the wisdom of his ancestors, so when the moment of challenge came, the moment of change, he had the strength to face it when others did not. 

Our Jewish tradition is there for all of us. Whether we are religious or not, it can give us guidance when we need it most. 

~Rabbi Dean Kertesz

Moses is considered to be the Jewish people’s greatest leader and the model of leadership par excellence. 

Yet, Moses is a strange ideal of a leader. He is not a great orator; he is, as he admits, slow of speech. Our sages of blessed memory suggested that he had a speech impediment. Further, he is profoundly humble. In fact, he does not want to lead the Israelites. He only takes the job because God forces him to do so. 

Moses is called the most humble of all people and in this week’s Torah portion we have two examples. In Chapter 11, the Israelites complain that they miss the meat they used to eat in Egypt compared to the manna they now eat in freedom in the wilderness. Instead of enjoying their freedom they miss the comforts of slavery, such as they were. 

In response, Moses cries out to God, “I cannot carry all this people by myself, for it is too much for me. If You would deal thus with me, kill me rather, I beg You, and let me see no more of my wretchedness!” (Numbers 11:14-15) 

The burden of leadership is too much for him, so God responds, “Gather for Me seventy of Israel’s elders of whom you have experience as elders and officers of the people, and bring them to the Tent of Meeting and let them take their place there with you. I will come down and speak with you there, and I will draw upon the spirit that is on you and put it upon them; they shall share the burden of the people with you, and you shall not bear it alone.” (Numbers 11:16-17) 

Here we see Moses as a leader who knows his limits, who understands the job is too big for him and is willing to accept the help of others, to share power, in service of his people’s needs. 

When two of these leaders, Eldad and Meldad, are so touched by God that they break out into ecstatic dance, Joshua worries they should be restrained, that they are an affront to Moses’ leadership. But Moses responds, “Would that all the LORD’s people were prophets, that the LORD put His spirit upon them!” (Numbers 11:29) 

Here again, Moses is happy to share his authority and even his access to God, so that the burden of service can be shared to benefit the people. 

We should remember Moses’ example any time a politician tells us that they alone can solve our problems or that only they understand what is ailing us and how to fix it. Moses’ humility, uncertainty and willingness to share power teach how a real leader should behave.

~Rabbi Dean Kertesz

Every Friday evening, when we are having Shabbat dinner together and my (now grown) children join us, immediately after candle lighting I bless them as I have done since they were tiny. This is the blessing I say: “May God bless you and keep you! May God deal kindly and graciously with you! May God bestow favor upon you and grant you peace!” It is the blessing Aaron the High Priest used to bless Israel when the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, was dedicated to sacred service during the Israelites’ wandering in the wilderness, in this week’s Torah portion. 

For our family it has always been a moment of deep love and connection to our family. But there is more. Our Torah portion concludes the blessing with these words (that we traditionally do not say when blessing our children),”Thus they shall link My name with the people of Israel, and I will bless them.” 

This phrase reminds me that the Priestly Blessing is more than just an expression of love. As we recite this blessing that has been repeated for thousands of years, we are reminded that our family, Carla, me and our children, stand together in a sacred chain of connection that began at Sinai and continues to the present day. 

We all are part of the shared history and the shared destiny of the Jewish people. All of us can be blessed. All of us can bless others. All of us can be a blessing.

~Rabbi Dean Kertesz

On this Shabbat before Shavuot, we begin reading the Book of Numbers, Bamidbar (In the Wilderness, in Hebrew). Shavuot is called Hag Matan Toratenu, the holiday of the giving of our Torah. The holiday begs a fundamental question: why was the Torah given in the heart of the desert? Why not in the heart of a great city in a great nation? Why not publicize the message? 

A midrash on the opening words of this week’s Torah portion, B’midbar (In the Wilderness) provides an answer: “And God spoke to Moses in the Sinai Wilderness” (Numbers 1:1). Why the Sinai Wilderness? From here the sages taught that the Torah was given through three things: fire, water, and wilderness… And why was the Torah given through these three things? Just as [fire, water, and wilderness] are free to all the inhabitants of the world, so too are the words of Torah free to them… 

Another explanation: “And God spoke to Moses in the Sinai Wilderness” — Anyone who does not make themselves ownerless like the wilderness cannot acquire the wisdom and the Torah. (Bamidbar Rabbah 1:7) We learn from this that Torah is available to all, regardless of status or wealth. It cannot be owned but is open to all who wish to embrace it. It was given to everyone, from the lowest of the low to the most exalted, for all are special in God’s eye. 

And what does the midrash mean by “ownerless?” Just as Torah is open to all, we must be open to Torah. The Torah asks us to worship no other gods but God, not wealth, or power, or material comforts, or our anger, or resentments, or our work. 

These are idols and illusions that enslave us. But if we can be humble and open ourselves to Torah, then Torah will open to us and we can embrace its strength and its power.

~Rabbi Dean Kertesz

Religion and politics are a twisted partnership in our politics. It seems that most of the time religion is used as a justification for the most reactionary aspects of our society, particularly deep economic inequality and the denial of any safety net.
The vision in this week’s Torah could not be more different. The jubilee year, which comes once every fifty years, offers a radical vision of a society that resets itself. All land reverts to its original owners. All slaves are set free. Everything returns to what it once was… at the beginning.
At the heart of this vision is an idea. That the Earth, everything on it and every human being belong to God and no one else. Not another person, just God. No one can acquire too much wealth. There can be no billionaires while millions starve. No one person, or one corporation, can control the lives of millions. No one can control or exploit too much of this Earth.
This is what paradise might look like, genuine equity and freedom. If only we understood Who is really in charge and what is required of us.

~Rabbi Dean Kertesz

For the last thirteen months we have been in lockdown, spending most of our time in our houses, in isolation and a kind of suspended animation, where time seems to stand still. Or, perhaps more accurately, the days run into each other and seem to repeat themselves. How do we make sense of this strange time? 

This week’s Torah portion teaches us to count our days, Shabbat and the annual cycle of the holy days. On Shabbat it says, “On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day there shall be a sabbath of complete rest, a sacred occasion. You shall do no work; it shall be a sabbath of the LORD throughout your settlements.” (Leviticus 23:3) 

Shabbat can be special time, sacred time. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote Shabbat, “is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation, from the world of creation to the creation of the world.” 

By entering and inhabiting Shabbat with intention, whether it is by lighting candles, cleaning the house, baking challah, having a nice dinner, spending time with those we love or disconnecting from media, we can reconnect with what is special, sacred and holy and in this way mark the days and weeks as special. 

As the Psalmist wrote, “Teach us to number our days, so we may attain a heart of wisdom.”

~Rabbi Dean Kertesz

Rabbi Hillel, after whom our synagogue is named, was once challenged by a non-Jew, probably a Roman, to teach him the Torah while standing on one leg. Hillel replied with a verse from this week’s Torah portion, “Love your fellow as yourself:” (Leviticus 19:19) Then he added, “the rest is commentary, now go and study.” By this he was not being dismissive of the rest of Jewish sacred text and law. Rather, he was saying, the principle seems simple, but it is not. You must study it, if you wish to live by it. 

This is true of many truths in life. We know them to be true; they are simple and straightforward, but they are still difficult to live by. What would it mean to truly love our neighbor as ourselves? It would mean not gossiping about others, because we know how painful it is when others gossip about us. It would mean not being mean or cruel to others, because we know how painful it is to be on the receiving end of cruel behavior. It would mean giving others the same benefit of the doubt we give ourselves and extending the same kindness and love we show to our family members to others. In other words, it would mean filtering every action we take and every word we say through the lens of love. 

This is a truly daunting task and because it is so difficult our sages have written much about the proper ways to interact with one another. Finding a kind, loving, and moral way to treat one another is really the purpose of the Jewish religion. 

It is not easy, but imagine what our world would be like if we treated our neighbors with love. If we stopped, before we sent the next email, or said the next critical word and thought, would I want to receive this email, would I want to be criticized in this manner? If we treated those who looked differently than us, or who believed differently than we do with the same dignity we want to receive? 

I think we would find the world and our lives transformed for the better beyond imagining.

How does disease change us, as individuals and as a society? 

For more than a year now the entire world has been gripped by the COVID-19 pandemic. More than 550,000 have died from the disease, millions more have been infected, and a small but significant percentage are suffering from the long-term effects of COVID. To keep the disease under control, to minimize its impact on our collective health, we have moved into physical isolation, distancing ourselves from one another and living much of our lives online, if we can.

This week’s Torah portion, Tazriah-Metzora, explores how our ancestors dealt with skin disease, tzara’at, “He shall be unclean as long as the disease is on him. Being unclean, he shall dwell apart; his dwelling shall be outside the camp.” (Leviticus 13:42). He is socially isolated to contain the spread of the disease. 

Commenting on this verse, Chizkuni wrote, “the disease from which he suffers is contagious to people who conduct social intercourse with him.” (France, 13th Century) This should sound familiar; we, too, have been struggling to combat a deadly disease that is highly contagious, so we have isolated ourselves from one another to keep ourselves and our community safe. 

All of us are living outside the camp and suffering from the social isolation that comes with that condition. Hopefully, soon, with enough people vaccinated we will be able to emerge from this isolation and come back to life as a community, to “reenter the camp.” 

When the victim of tzara’at is healed, the priest would perform a ritual to enable them to reenter the camp. Perhaps we can can learn from our tradition and begin planning a ritual of reentry and reconnection

~Rabbi Dean Kertesz