Drashot

What does it mean to be a sacred community, a congregation? In this week’s Torah portion, Terumah, we read these words of God, “Let them build me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.” (Exodus 25:8) This sentence contains a grammatical problem. It should read, “Let them build me a sanctuary that I may dwell within it,” but it does not. Clearly the sanctuary, the Mishkan, is not about the physical structure, it is about the connection between the Divine and people. It is easy to confuse a physical structure with a spiritual purpose. People love to build beautiful buildings, but it is what goes on in the buildings that matter. The Hebrew verb to dwell (l’shachen) shares the same root as God’s indwelling, feminine, presence: Shechina. If our congregation is a place of warmth, welcoming, and care, then we have earned God’s presence and we will feel the Ruach HaKodesh, God’s holy spirit, dwelling amongst us. When we share joys together and are present for each other in times of sorrow our biulding is filled with holiness. If we care more about physical matters, then we may have a beautiful worship space but it will feel empty. The choice is ours.

Since October 7th and the brutal Hamas attacks on Israelis we have been navigating through a challenging moral landscape that includes Israel’s right to defend its citizens, Hamas’ indifference to Israeli and Palestinian civilian casualties, the question of the proportionality of Israel’s military response and the unwillingness of many supporters of the Palestinian cause here in the Bay Area to grant any legitimacy to Israel and its right to exist. This week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim, begins to build on the Ten Commandments shared in last week’s Torah portion. They focus on human interaction and particularly how we must treat the weakest in society: the widow, the orphan, the stranger and the slave. In the midst of all this we come across this verse, “If the thief is seized while tunneling and beaten to death, there is no blood guilt in that case.” (Exodus 22:1) Commenting on this verse, we read in the Mishna (1st C. CE), “A burglar who is found breaking into a house may be killed by the owner of the house with impunity (see Exodus 22:1)… on account of his ultimate end, as it is presumed that if the owner of the house would resist the burglar, the burglar would kill the owner of the house.” How fitting this is since Hamas has built a massive complex of tunnels to attack Israel, to hide from Israeli soldiers while putting civilians at risk, to imprison hostages taken from Israel, and to ambush Israeli soldiers. The time, effort, and funds expended on these tunnels are testimony to Hamas’ murderous intent and the right to self defense is clear. It is important to remember this in these difficult times.

This Shabbat is called Shabbat Shira (The Sabbath of Song) for the song of celebration that Moses and the Children of Israel sing after they cross the Sea of Reeds and witness Pharoah’s army drown after the sea closes back on them. Scholars think it is one of the oldest pieces of poetry in the Tanach.  It begins, “I will sing to Adonai, for God has triumphed gloriously;

Horse and driver God has hurled into the sea.” (Exodus 15:1) and it concludes with these words that we sing at every service, “Who is like You, Adonai, among the celestials; Who is like You, majestic in holiness, Awesome in splendor, working wonders!,” (Exodus 15:11) These are the opening words of Mi Chamocah. Notice that in this moment of deliverance from danger and triumph over their Egyptian enemies there is no pride in their victory, just praise for God. It was God’s work and their faith that saved the Israelites from certain death. And yet, there is a midrash that complicates the story from the Mekhilta DeRabbi Yishmael, Tractate Vayehi Beshalach 6:4. It  says that Moses raised his arms for the Sea of Reeds to part and yet it did not. Standing at the shore of the sea, all the Israelites said: “I will not enter the sea first.” So they hesitated as the Egyptians drew closer. Because they stood frozen, deliberating, Nachshon ben Aminadav leaped into the sea. As soon as he did, the sea began to part. From this we learn that human agency, the willingness to act, to take a leap of faith, was the essential component for the miracle of the parting of the sea to begin. Faith, recognizing that God represents a force for good in the world that we can believe in and tap into for strength, combined with courage, the willingness to act when action is necessary and everyone around us is frozen, these were the two elements essential to make the Sea of Reeds part. With faith and courage we can face any test, no matter how hard, no matter how frightening.

This Shabbat is called Shabbat Shira (The Sabbath of Song) for the song of celebration that Moses and the Children of Israel sing after they cross the Sea of Reeds and witness Pharoah’s army drown after the sea closes back on them. Scholars think it is one of the oldest pieces of poetry in the Tanach.  It begins, “I will sing to Adonai, for God has triumphed gloriously;

Horse and driver God has hurled into the sea.” (Exodus 15:1) and it concludes with these words that we sing at every service, “Who is like You, Adonai, among the celestials; Who is like You, majestic in holiness, Awesome in splendor, working wonders!,” (Exodus 15:11) These are the opening words of Mi Chamocah. Notice that in this moment of deliverance from danger and triumph over their Egyptian enemies there is no pride in their victory, just praise for God. It was God’s work and their faith that saved the Israelites from certain death. And yet, there is a midrash that complicates the story from the Mekhilta DeRabbi Yishmael, Tractate Vayehi Beshalach 6:4. It  says that Moses raised his arms for the Sea of Reeds to part and yet it did not. Standing at the shore of the sea, all the Israelites said: “I will not enter the sea first.” So they hesitated as the Egyptians drew closer. Because they stood frozen, deliberating, Nachshon ben Aminadav leaped into the sea. As soon as he did, the sea began to part. From this we learn that human agency, the willingness to act, to take a leap of faith, was the essential component for the miracle of the parting of the sea to begin. Faith, recognizing that God represents a force for good in the world that we can believe in and tap into for strength, combined with courage, the willingness to act when action is necessary and everyone around us is frozen, these were the two elements essential to make the Sea of Reeds part. With faith and courage we can face any test, no matter how hard, no matter how frightening. 

Darkness is a metaphor. We often say we are living through dark times: with seemingly unbridgeable social and political divisions, profound conflicts of values, the war between Israel and Hamas. Hate abounds and antisemitism raises its ugly head. In this week’s Torah portion God brings the final three plagues on Pharaoh and Egypt: locusts, darkness and the death of the firstborn. Each plague is worse than one before so why is darkness the next to the worst? Our Torah says, “Moses held out his arm toward the sky and thick darkness descended upon all the land of Egypt for three days.” (Exodus 10:22).
Commenting on this verse, Rashi (11th C. Germany) wrote, “there was darkness of gloom when no man saw another during those three days, and there was moreover another period of three days’ darkness twice as thick as this when no man rose from his place: (emphasis mine). God brings a tangible darkness to Egypt that blinds people to be able to see others, that renders them helpless and passive and unable to find their way in the world. Yet, we have a way out of this confusion.
Our Torah reads, “but all the Israelites enjoyed light in their dwellings.” (Exodus 10:23) Darkness and light are not just physical phenomena but a reflection of our internal spiritual and psychological state.
Pessimism is a dark outlook on the future, while optimism is a bright one. When we cannot see other people, their needs and desires, we are in a state of darkness. When we can have compassion for others, we bring light into the world.
Each day we have the opportunity to live in darkness or in light. Choose to live in light and bring light into our world.

We are living in a time of profound problems that seem beyond our control and threaten our existence: whether climate change, the threats to democracy, the war in Ukraine, or the war between Israel and Hamas and the antisemitism that has become part of our discourse around the war. It is easy to feel overwhelmed and hopeless. But our Jewish tradition teaches us to not give in to despair. 

In this week’s Torah portion Moses comes to the Israelites and tells them God will free them from their enslavement and bring them back to the Land of Israel. But they cannot hear God’s promise. Our Torah reads, “But when Moses told this to the Israelites, they would not listen to Moses, their spirits crushed by cruel bondage.” (Exodus 6:9) The Hebrew for crushed spirit is mikotzer ruach and can be translated as shortness of breath or spirit, since ruach can mean either one. Commenting on this verse, Nachmanides (14th Century Spain) wrote, “It was not because they did not believe in G-d and in His prophet [that they hearkened not]. Rather, they paid no attention to his words because…, as a person whose soul is grieved on account of his misery and who does not want to live another moment in his suffering even though he knows that he will be relieved later.” The physical condition of the Israelites sends them into a despair that prevents them from seeing a way out of their suffering. 

Despair kills hope and keeps us from acting and making our lives and the world better. Faith gives us the strength to keep moving forward, even when conditions seem overwhelming. God promised the Israelites redemption through Moses, but they could not see it until their spirits could rise above their despair. Shimon Peres (z”l) said “Optimists and pessimists die the same way. They just live differently. I prefer to live as an optimist.” 

Judaism teaches us that faith feeds optimism and optimism enables us to face and overcome life’s challenges. We always have a choice between despair and faith, optimism and pessimism. Which will you choose?

Our history as a people (Am Yisrael) is long and filled with moments of great suffering and moments of great achievement. Our story really begins with the Book of Exodus. Genesis is the story of one family. Exodus is the story of how that family becomes a people, who descend into slavery, rise up to liberation and freedom, and begin their development into a free people.

One of the reasons our rabbis give to explain why the Israelites were worthy of Divine attention and liberation is that they kept their Hebrew names. Perhaps that is why we call Exodus, Sefer Shmot in Hebrew, the Book of Names. To keep your Hebrew name means that you have sustained your intimate, personal connection to the Jewish tradition. No matter how difficult life was for the Israelite slaves, they never lost their Jewish identity.

In difficult times, when Jew hatred seems to be acceptable, it is tempting to think that hiding our identity will keep us safe. This week’s Torah portion says that keeping that identity is a source of strength and freedom. Let’s remember that lesson in the days and months ahead. 

Friday is the last day of Hanukkah, our celebration of light. The Alter Rebbe (the founder of Chabad Hasidism) said, “A little light can drive out a great amount of darkness.” Each December, during the darkest time of the year, Hanukkah reminds us of the wisdom of this message.

In this week’s Torah portion, Joseph is taken out from the dungeon and brought before Pharaoh to interpret his dream of the seven fat cows and the seven lean cows. The word for dungeon in this week’s Torah portion is, Ha bor, the pit. The trajectory of Joseph’s life until now has been a fall from his father Jacob’s favorite son to the bottom of the pit. Now, Joseph begins his ascent from the depths of the pit of darkness and despair to the heights of power in Pharaoh’s palace. Joseph’s misfortunes and suffering have changed him; made him more caring of and empathetic toward others, giving him the capacity to successfully interpret Pharaoh’s dream.

Life has its share of tragedy and suffering and, hopefully, its full measure of joy as well. Like Joseph we can learn and grow from our struggles and misfortune and become better people. This is a message of Hanukkah as well. Even in the darkest of times we can bring light, hope, and goodness into the world. During these dark days, when many of us feel frightened and isolated, it is important for us to remember Hanukkah and, like Joseph, to bring our light into the world, the message of Jewish values. We and the world will be better for it, especially when it is darkest.

This Shabbat falls on the second day of Hanukkah and according to our liturgical tradition, in addition to reading the Torah portion of the week, Vayeshev (the beginning of the story of Joseph) we also read Numbers 7:18-23 for maftir and the Prophet Zechariah for the Haftorah. Zechariah was a prophet of the Jewish return to the land of Israel after 40 years of Babylonian exile. He lived through the reestablishment of Jewish sovereignty in Judah and imagined the final redemption of all humanity at the end of days. Exile and return, loss and fulfillment, are recurring themes in Jewish life. We are going through a difficult period right now. In Israel people are still identifying the victims of the October 7th attack and burying them; they continue to bury soldiers who have given their lives to defend Israel; and they continue to work for the release of the hostage taken into captivity by the terrorists. We here in the US are facing the harsh reality of anti-semitism that has been tolerated and allowed to metastasize into the body politic on the left and the right. It feels like a dark time. In the arc of Jewish history this is nothing new. Yet, good is coming out of these troubles. Jews are reconnecting to Israel and to Jewish community. Many more people are coming to services, here at our synagogue and across the country. We feel the need for community and connection and we are acting on it. Last Sunday, our community Hanukkah fair was a joyous event filled with members, new folks, and young families. The need for connection was palpable as was the strength we drew from one another. In that sense  Zechariah’s words ring particularly true this year, “This is the word of GOD to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit — said GOD of Hosts.” Never underestimate the power of the Jewish people or the strength of Jewish community. It is always there for us to draw on to sustain us, in times of trouble and in times of joy. Remember too the words of the Alter Rebbe, “A little light drives out a great amount of darkness.” This Hanukkah let the lights glow in your window.