Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Mikketz: Facing Our Mistakes

When I was a student, I received one piece of advice from a teacher about studying that was simultaneously the most important piece of advice I received about studying, yet was also the most frustrating.  The piece of advice was this: When you are studying, always focus the most on what you understand the least.   On the one hand, I found this advice incredibly frustrating, because as a learner who loved to have the right answer, it was incredibly disheartening to spend all my studying time learning concepts where I would make mistakes or misunderstand the material.  On the other hand, what I came to realize was that immersing ourselves in our shortcomings as a learner is the only means by which we grow as a learner, for you can only see the fruits of your labor when given the opportunity to succeed in areas in which you previously failed, a lesson that we also learn in this week’s parasha.

The second half of Parshat Mikketz describes the encounter when Joseph, now at the heights of Egyptian society, sees his brothers come before him to beg for food because of the famine in Canaan.  However, in the moment when the brothers approach Joseph, we learn that Joseph recognizes the brothers, but the brothers do not recognize him.   The Torah then tells us the following:

“Joseph recognized his brothers but they did not recognize him.   Then Joseph remembered the dreams which he had dreamed of them and said to them, “You are spies!  To see the nakedness of the land have you come”” (Genesis 42:8-9).

Based on these verses, we see Joseph question his brother’s loyalty to Egypt, and are left to ask several questions.  First, upon seeing his brothers, why does Joseph not simply reveal him to them immediately?  Second, even if Joseph chooses to remain concealed to his brothers, why Joseph choose to intentionally make the situation more difficult for them?   Finally, Do should we read this passage as Joseph’s revenge, plain and simple, and if so, what does that say about Joseph?

Commenting upon similar questions, the medieval commentator Isaac Abravanel is flabbergasted as to how Joseph could engage in this kind of deceit of both his brothers and his father.   Although Joseph did not go down to Egypt of his own accord, surely, Abravanel reasons, it would seem reasonable that Joseph should not sink to the level of his brothers’ previous acts.   Abravanel writes:

“Why did Joseph denounce his brothers?  Surely it was criminal of him to take vengeance and bear a grudge like a viper.  Though they had meant evil God had turned it to good.   What justification then had he for taking vengeance after twenty years?  How could he ignore their plight in a strange land and that of their families suffering famine and waiting for them, particularly his aged father gnawed by worry and care?   How could he not have pity on him and how could he bear to inflict on him further pain through the imprisonment of Simeon?” (Abravanel on Genesis 42:8).

According to Abravanel, Joseph’s actions in Parshat Mikketz can seem antithetical to what it means to be a righteous person, and it falls on our commentators to think about what other lessons we might learn from Joseph’s plan.

In her paper on the this week’s parasha, Nehama Leibowitz argues that Joseph did not tell his brothers or father about his true identity because Joseph recognizes that the brother’s appearing before Joseph was the opportunity for Joseph’s childhood dream to come to fruition, and thus Joseph needed to keep events progressing in such a way as to provide the opportunity for the brothers to show contrition.  She writes:

“[Joseph] He had to arrange for his older brother, Benjamin, the son of his mother Rachel, and like him, the beloved of his father to be brought into a similar situation.   This time the brothers would find themselves really faced by a valid excuse for leaving their brother to his fate.  For how could they fight the whole Egyptian empire?   If, in spite of that, they would refuse to go back to their father without Benjamin and would be willing to sacrifice their lives....” (Nehama Leibowitz, New Studies in Bereshit, 461).   

According to Leibowitz, when the brothers bow down to Joseph, who they believe is a the mysterious Egyptian bureaucrat, the opportunity is placed before Joseph to see if the brothers have truly repented and changed since Joseph was a boy.   To support her reading of Parshat Mikketz, Leibowitz cites one of Maimonides’ texts on teshuvah, which states the following:

“What constitutes complete repentance?  He who was confronted by the identical thing wherein he transgressed and it lies within his power to commit the transgression but he nevertheless abstained and did not succumb out of repentance, and not out of fear or weakness” (Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah 2:1).

Maimonides argues that the only way to know if someone has truly returned from their state of sin is to construct a scenario where a person could repeat the same mistake, but, of their own free will, chooses to go down a different path.  Thus, Leibowitz argues that Joseph’s intention was to lead his brothers to have the opportunity to make the same mistake with Benjamin that they made with Joseph, yet this time, as we learn in Parshat Vayiggash, the brothers indeed have learned their lesson.   

No person thinks that it is “fun” to correct mistakes on an assignment, receive constructive criticism from teachers, parents, or friends, or engage in a true 360 degree self-reflection.   However, what Parshat Mikketz reminds us it that the reward of immersing ourselves in our mistakes, and then rising above them, is far greater than simply remaining in our comfort zone, and never attempting to improve in areas in which we previously fell short.  May we have the merit of teaching our children and students about the importance of honestly evaluating their mistakes, so that they might ultimately become better learners and human beings.   

Shabbat Shalom, v’Hag Urim Sameah!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Vayeshev: The Messenger of Success

While we can read the Joseph narrative explores many  themes about growth and development, the early events in Joseph’s life are particularly important for teaching us about the difference between being successful and being a successful person.    In his Torah commentary on Parshat Vayeshev, Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson writes that Joseph’s conduct reveals that while this a young man possesses great gifts, Joseph has not learned how to live out those gifts with humility.   Artson writes:

“Joseph has the potential to fill his life with friendship, family and love. Yet his need to be preeminent, his need to belittle the gifts and experiences of this family in order to glorify his own talents, isolate him from his own kin. We get a clue about the extent of Joseph's pride from the very start” (Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson, “From Pride Comes Loneliness,” The American Jewish University Torah Commentary).

As Artson reminds us, Joseph’s downfall as a child begins not only with the transparent favoritism shown to him by Jacob, but also through the way in which Joseph gleefully reminded his brothers of that favored status.  

In the beginning of Parshat Vayeshev, after we learn of Joseph’s favored status in the eyes of Jacob, we learn about Joseph’s dreams, each of which alludes to Joseph’s eventual ascendancy over his brothers.   Yet rather than keep these dreams to himself, Joseph shares the information with his brothers.   The Torah records the following encounter:

“Joseph dreamt a dream which he told to his brothers, and they hated him even more.   He said to them, “Hear, if you please, this dream which I dreamt: Behold!--we were binding sheaves in the middle of the field, when behold!--my sheaf arose and also remained standing; then behold!--your sheaves gathered around and bowed down to my sheaf.   His brothers said to him, “Would you then reign over us?  Would you then dominate us?”  And they hated him even more, because of his dreams and because of his talk” (Bereishit 37:5-8).

When we read Joseph’s description of the dream, one wonders what precisely triggered such a powerful response from his brothers.  On the one hand, the content of the dream is certainly cause for concern from the brothers, yet one could argue that Joseph is merely sharing an unconscious experience with his brothers, and thus Joseph does not warrant this fratricidal wrath.   However, our rabbinic commentators will remind us that it was both the message and the messenger that ultimately led to the brother’s hatred of Joseph, and will teach us an essential lesson about how we engage with others.

In particular, our rabbinic commentators focus on the Torah’s statement that the brothers hated Joseph not merely “because of his dreams,” but also “because of his talk.”  In his commentary, the Ramban writes the following:

“And they hated him even more, because of his dreams and because of his talk”: The explanation of because of his dreams and because of his talk is that they hated him for the dreams and also for the relating [of the dream], which he related to them like a braggart, as it says, “Hear, if you please, this dream which I dreamt” (Ramban on Bereishit 37:8).

According to the Ramban, not only did Joseph recount dreams that were, in and of themselves, likely to arouse hatred from his brothers, but Joseph recounted those dreams in a manner that poured salt on the wound already made by mentioning the dream at all.   Since we know that Joseph’s brothers were already smarting from the favoritism Jacob showed Joseph on a regular basis, the manner in which Joseph recounted the dream was as damaging as the dream itself.   

Taking a psychological approach, Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim of Luntschitz, known as the Keli Yakar, writes that Joseph’s transparent eagerness to share a dream with such an uncomfortable message revealed something about Joseph’s character to his brothers.    The Keli Yakar writes:

“They [Joseph’s brothers] hated him for his dreams and his words.  It is common knowledge that a person dreams of that which he spoke about during the day.   The brothers assumed he spoke about his constant thoughts of ruling over them and therefore, naturally dreamed about it at night.  This aroused their anger even more” (Keli Yakar on Bereishit 37:8).

According to the Keli Yakar, the brothers assumed that because Joseph had a dream about ruling over them, naturally one could conclude that Joseph must speak about ruling over his brothers during the daytime, for a person’s dreams are merely a reflection of their thoughts and actions during the day.  As a result, Joseph choosing the share his dreams led the brothers to attribute the most sinister intentions and motivations to their favored brother.   

When I read Parshat Vayeshev, and I see the way in which Joseph struggles as a boy to actualize his gifts without trampling upon the feelings of others, I think about what it means to teach our children about success.   On the one hand, each of us has the responsibility to help our children recognize their unique gifts, and maximize their potential to thrive.   On the other hand, we also have the responsibility to teach our children that being successful means nothing if they cannot accept their success with humility, not use success as a means to belittle others, and realize that our success is most valuable when others consider it well-deserved.  By learning from Joseph’s mistakes, may we teach our children that the message and the messenger teaches us a great deal about how to be a successful person.  

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Vayishlakh: Humanizing Conflict

I’ve come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It’s my personal approach that creates the climate. It’s my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I possess tremendous power to make a child’s life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de–escalated and a child humanized or de–humanized.
       —Haim Ginott, 1976

While the above quote from Haim Ginott is limited to conflict inside of a classroom, we can easily read this quote and see how it might apply to any example of conflict in our lives.   When we disagree with someone, we are in a position to determine whether or not a conflict with escalate into something far more damaging, and the challenge is to teach ourselves and our students how to see the humanity of the other side of their conflict, a lesson we learn from Jacob and Esau in Parshat Vayishlakh.   

Parshat Vayishlakh begins with Jacob making preparations for a reunion with his estranged brother.  After a dramatic crescendo, where we see Jacob prepare for the meeting with painstaking detail and care, the Torah records the following when Jacob and Esau see each other for the first time:

“Jacob looked up and there was Esau, coming with his four hundred men; so he divided the children among Leah, Rachel and the two female servants. He put the female servants and their children in front, Leah and her children next, and Rachel and Joseph in the rear.  Jacob went on ahead and bowed down to the ground seven times as he approached his brother.  Esau ran to greet him. Esau embraced him and, falling on his neck, he kissed him; and they wept” (Genesis 33:1-4).

In the above verses, one is led to believe that the tension and drama preceding the meeting between and Esau and Jacob is misplaced, for as soon as they see one another, the reunion appears heartfelt and emotional.   However, when our commentators examine this episode, each of them notes that while the emotions between Esau and Jacob are genuine in that moment, this reunion does not eliminate the pre-existing feelings of anger, and understanding the distinction between the two can teach us something essential about what it means to engage with with whom we experience tension.   

Our rabbinic commentators, who never shied from ascribing sinister motives to Esau, have a disagreement over how we ought to understand Jacob and Esau’s encounter.   The midrash states the following:

"Esau kissed him (vayiShaKehu)" – these words are marked by a series of points to indicate that he did not kiss him with all of his heart.  Rabbi Shimon ben Yochai said: 'it is a well-known and accepted principle that Esav detests Ya'acov.  However, at that moment his mercies were aroused and he kissed him with all of his heart”” (Sifre Beha'alotekha, Paragraph 69)

According to the midrash, the Hebrew word for kiss, vayishakehu, contains a series of dots in the physical Torah-text that indicate some kind of unique distinction for this action, with certain rabbis arguing that the dots indicate a sinister intent amidst Esau’s kissing of Jacob.  However, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai argues that while one should not conclude that Esau’s feelings towards Jacob changed, seeing his estranged brother ultimately aroused Esau to embrace Jacob, in a moment of pure love.  

Similarly, Ha’Emek Davar,  the commentary of Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehudah Berlin, otherwise known as the Netziv, argues that the encounter between Esau and Jacob offers a paradigm for any moment when two estranged individuals or nations see through their conflict and join together in a moment of companionship.   The Netziv states:

“Both wept, implying that Jacob's love too was aroused towards Esau. And so it is in all ages. Whenever the seed of Esau is prompted by sincere motives to acknowledge and respect the seed of Israel, then we too are moved to acknowledge Esau: for he is our brother” (Ha’Emek Davar on Genesis 33:4).

According to the Netziv, inspite of the outward moments of tension between Jacob and Esau, this reunion between the brothers reveals that each them recognizes the inward truth that, in spite of their previous tension, an essential love remains between Jacob and Esau.   Perhaps Jacob and Esau will never be fully be at peace, as the Torah records nearly nothing about their relationship after this point, yet their encounter provides a moment where they can return to the love that must exist between them as a family.

When we read the reunion of Jacob and Esau in Parshat Vayishlakh, we are not led to believe that the brothers mend all wounds, but that the two of them, in this moment of contact, saw through their conflict and simply chose to see one another as brothers.   When we teach our students about the conflicts they will inevitably experience in this world, whether their friends or co-workers, or even people halfway around the world, we can learn a great deal from Jacob and Esau about how disagreement does not require dehumanization, and that seeing the human on the other side of a conflict is the first step towards ending the need for conflict in the first place.   All the rest is commentary...

Shabbat Shalom!
                   

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Vayetze: The Ladder of Potential

The long-term output of any school should be not just proficient students, but enabled learners. An "enabled" learner can grasp macro views, uncover micro details, ask questions, plan for new knowledge and transfer thinking across divergent circumstances. This doesn't happen by content "knowledge holding," or even by the fire of enthusiasm, but by setting a tone for learning that suggests possibility, and by creating a culture of can.

      -Terry Heick, “Creating a Culture of Can,” Edutopia.org

No matter the subject, educating students involves a process of helping them realize their potential and capability to succeed.   However, the greatest challenge within that process is helping students envision a pathway to success, and helping them know that they will have support along the way, a set of images that we find in this week’s parasha of Vayetze.

Parshat Vayetze records that during Jacob’s dream, “a ladder was set on the ground and its top reached the sky, and angels of God were going up and down on it. And the Lord was standing beside him" (Bereishit 28:12-13), and somehow we are to imagine that this encounter results in Jacob being changed, as he wakes up from this dream exclaiming, “Surely, God was in this place, and I did not know it! (28:16).  

Every time I read this story, I find myself returning to the same question: “How does Jacob’s dream fit into the context of his overall narrative?”   A similar question is asked by Aviva Zornberg in Genesis: The Beginning of Desire, where she writes that Jacob’s dreams hints at his own confusion over whether or not he will succeed in fulfilling God’s promise on this earth.  She writes:

“God appears to Jacob, as he experiences the full dream-terror, the oscillation of anger and guilt that the angels project.  And Jacob’s attention is turned, within the dream, on the power of his own sleeping body, attached to the earth.  All that a man may be is compacted within his trunk, his head, his limbs.  The whole land of Israel is his, if he can fill the proper shape of humanity, if he can body forth the image of God, on earth” (Aviva Zornberg, Genesis: The Beginning of Desire, 192).

According to Zornberg, we must see Jacob’s dream in the context of his childhood, and how one wonders what kind of person Jacob will become when this dream takes place, a question not lost upon our rabbinic commentators.

In his philosophical treatise, The Guide for the Perplexed, Rabbi Moses Maimonides writes that the ladder of Jacob’s dream symbolizes Jacob’s potential to rise or fall in his relationship and apprehension of God.  Maimonides writes the following:

"And, behold, the Lord stood erect on it," that is, was stably and constantly up on it--I mean upon the ladder, one end of which is in heaven, while the other end is upon the earth. Everyone who ascends does so climbing up this ladder, so that he necessarily apprehends Him who is upon it, as He is stably and permanently at the top of the ladder...For after the "ascent" and the attaining of certain rungs of the ladder that may be known comes the descent with whatever decree the prophet has been informed of--with a view to governing and teaching the people of the earth” (Guide for the Perplexed, Book 1, 15).

According to Maimonides, in seeing the ladder, Jacob is challenged to imagine what he might become, should he use the rest of his life as one in pursuit of divine perfection, a lifelong ascent towards God.    In contrast, if Jacob’s life is spent in trickery and deceit, alluded to in Jacob’s stealing of the birthright, Jacob will only descend on the ladder, moving further and further away from God.   

Transitioning from the philosophical to the spiritual, Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin’s Nefesh Ha-Hayyim argues that the ladder symbolizes Jacob’s spiritual potential, and his ability to ascend or descend based on his deeds from that point forward.   The text states:

“Regarding the vision of the ladder "set on the ground," ... note that it does not say "set in the ground (baaretz), but towards the ground (artzah), to signify that its principal anchoring is in the heavens above, and from there it devolves downward, until it reaches the earth. This signifies the Neshamah in man... From there it descends like a ladder and chain, joining with the spirit (Ruah), then with the soul (Nefesh), until it finally comes down to this world and into the body of man. Divine angels go up and down it, as we said above, along its length which is the living soul of the worlds, the forces and the angels of the upper spheres, whose entire ascent and descent, indeed all their actions at every moment, depend solely on the inclination of the deeds, speech, and thoughts that are in the body of man at every moment” (Nefesh Ha-Hayyim 1:19).

Using this approach, one can see the ladder teaching Jacob that his deeds, speech and thoughts will ultimately determine whether or not he fulfills God’s spiritual mission for the world.  While the Esau incident might cast doubt on whether or not Jacob is truly destined to live out God’s mission for the world, the ladder demands that Jacob recognize the choice of pursuing a pathway of righteousness now officially lies before him.

At every point of development, each of us must resist the temptation to consider ourselves a finished product, incapable of becoming more than we already are, while not absolving ourselves of the responsibility to pursue a path of righteousness, hence the image of Jacob’s ladder.  When we educate our children, we are tasked with helping them understand how life and learning are ladders up which each of them are capable of climbing, and, at any point in one’s life, there is the possibility of going one rung higher.   May each of us use this year as an opportunity to push ourselves, our children, and our students, up a ladder to great heights and great things.   

Shabbat Shalom!

• Translations of some of these texts were taken from Jacob Charlap, “Parshat Vayetze: The Meaning of Jacob’s Dream,” Bar Ilan University, <http://www.biu.ac.il/JH/Parasha/eng/vayetze/harlap.html>.

Divrei Rav Josh: Parshat Toledot- Managing Our Emotions

For as long as I can remember, I always felt sympathetic for Esau when I read Parshat Toledot.  While our Jewish tradition goes out of the way to make Esau the archetypal rabbinic villian, accused of everything including murder, rape, and idolatry, a close reading of Esau’s childhood will reveal that he is a fairly typical teenager, one who enjoys spending time outside, eager to please his father, and more than a little bit impulsive.   The nineteenth century American preacher Henry Ward Beecher wrote the following about Esau’s character:

“I cannot help, and you cannot help feeling a great deal more sympathy with Esau than with Jacob…[but] Esau was a man not of forethought, adapting means to end, holding to them, and overruling his feelings by his judgment: he was a man of impulse; and his primary impulses were generally strong. When he was mad; he was very mad; when he was gay, he was very gay. He was subject to circumstances, and according to his impulses he was blown hither and  thither….Yet, for dramatic effect, Esau was the finer fellow. He was bold, dashing, and in some respects admirable” (Henry Ward Beecher, Bible Studies: Readings in the Early Books of the Old Testament, With Familiar Comment, Given 1878-1879, 127).

Beecher’s interpretation of Esau’s life reminds us that we can attribute Esau’s struggles with her family and his birthright less to any religious deficiency, and more to Esau’s inability to control his emotions.   

When we read the famous incident in Parshat Toledot of Esau selling Jacob the birthright for a bowl of soup, we see the truth behind the above interpretation.   The parasha states the following:

“Once when Jacob was cooking some stew, Esau came in from the open country, famished.  He said to Jacob, “Quick, let me have some of that red stew! I’m famished!” (That is why he was also called Edom).  Jacob replied, “First sell me your birthright.”  “Look, I am about to die,” Esau said. “What good is the birthright to me?”  But Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore an oath to him, selling his birthright to Jacob.  Then Jacob gave Esau some bread and some lentil stew. He ate and drank, and then got up and left.  So Esau despised his birthright” (Bereishit 25:29-34).

One cannot read this story and not be amused at the sheer absurdity of Esau selling his birthright, a lifelong possession that a guarantees a more favorable inheritance, for a single bowl of soup, a momentary satiation of his hunger that will not help Esau at all down the road.   As such, a first reading of this passage views Esau as someone less concerned with defying God’s wishes and someone who simply does not think before making a decision of great consequence.

However, our rabbinic commentators expand upon the original account of this story, and see Esau’s impulsiveness as indicative of something deeper, of a tendency within Esau to jump to harsh conclusions and rash decisions.  A famous midrash records that the day that Jacob made this offer was the same day in which Abraham passed away, and the exchange between Jacob and Esau revealed Esau’s initial reaction to the death.   The midrash states the following:

“Esau asked Jacob, “What is the stew for?” Jacob answered, “That old man [Abraham] has died.” Esau said: “That old man has been struck down by fate!?” He answered: “Yes.” Esau then said, “If so, there is no reward, and no resurrection for the dead.”  The Holy Spirit cried out, “’Do not cry for the dead and do not lament for them’—this refers to Abraham; ‘Weep rather than for him who is going down’ (Jeremiah 22:10)—this refers to Esau” (Midrash Bereishit Rabbah 63:16).

The midrash teaches us that hearing the news of Abraham’s death leads to Esau’s impulsive spiritual and practical reaction, leading Esau to both renounce his birthright and his belief in God’s mission for the world.   Thus, one wonders how this incident might have played out differently had Esau chosen to think before he acted.
In commenting upon the above midrash, and offering a psychological approach to what ails Esau as a boy, Aviva Zornberg writes that, according to the midrash,

“Abraham, who has died, is not pitiable...Esau, who is “going” toward death, whose mortality obsesses him, is the true object of compassion….In the narrative of the midrash, Esau seems to fall instant prey to existential ennui… (Aviva Zornberg, Genesis: The Beginning of Desire, Page 160)

According to Zornberg, upon hearing the news of Abraham’s death, Esau cannot control his emotions, and immediately concludes that life is meaningless.  In contrast, Jacob, who at this point in the narrative is not in possession of the birthright or the blessing, is not drawn into the same despair as Esau.   One can only imagine how Esau’s life would be different if he better managed his emotions, and chose to think about what it he did before he made a decision that would essentially haunt him for the rest of his life.

Similarly, when we Parshat Toledot to our students, we are responsible for teaching about the emotional and social skills we ought not learn from our ancestors just as much as the skills we should learn from them.   Daniel Goleman writes in Emotional Intelligence that,

“Handling feelings so they are appropriate is an ability that builds on self-awareness...People who are poor in this ability are constantly battling feelings of distress, while those who excel in it can bounce back far more quickly from life’s setbacks and upsets” (Daniel Goleman, Emotional Intelligence, 43).   

When read Goleman’s outline of the basic value and necessity of managing emotions, we see the key to unlocking Esau’s downfall, for Esau’s life, at any almost point, would be different, if he learned to take a pause, and think before he acted.   

At Schechter, beginning with our Open Circle Curriculum in the Lower School, and extending to our Peer Educators and Peer Connectors in our Upper School, one of our essential goals is to help our students learn how managing emotions is as much the key to academic and professional success as reading, writing, and arithmetic, a lesson that we also learn from this week’s parasha.  May we have the merit of recognizing how self-management skills can be learned in our most essential Jewish texts, and must form the backbone of our Jewish education at Schechter creates thoughtful, kind, and careful children.

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Hayyei Sarah: Seeds of Kindness

While many of us are still struggling in the recovery from Hurricane Sandy, everything from coping with a lack of gas or electricity to repairing or even rebuilding our homes, it becomes important for us to identify, as a community, those moments when someone shared an act of kindness with us.  Whether we relied upon a neighbor or friend for donated clothing, a working freezer, or a hot shower, all of us witnessed the kindness that one must give or receive during these crucial moments.  This principle is emphasized in Parshat Hayyei Sarah, where our commentators’ understanding of Rebecca as a character helps define how our Jewish tradition compels us to show kindness to one another.

The central event in the second half of Parshat Hayyei Sarah is the journey of Abraham’s servant Eliezer to find a wife for Isaac.   Since Eliezer is tasked with picking a woman that he never met to wed Isaac, Eliezer’s choice of Rebecca as a wife for Isaac is rooted not in physical appearance, although the Torah does remark that she is beautiful, but rather in Rebecca’s willingness to draw water for Eliezer’s camels multiple times.  The Torah states that Rebecca, “went down to the spring, filled her jar and came up again...So she quickly emptied her jar into the trough and ran again to the well to draw and drew...” (Bereishit 24:16, 20).  As a result, the Torah’s description of Rebecca focuses on a particular acts of generosity that, when observed by Eliezer, leads Rebecca to be identified as the ideal wife for Isaac.

Meir Shalev writes in his book Beginnings about how the first time certain emotions or actions appear in the Tanakh tells us a great about how the Tanakh understands the meaning and value of those actions.   Regarding Eliezer’s journey to find a spouse for Isaac, Shalev writes that Eliezer sought a sign that would indicate who ought to be Isaac’s partner, and thus Eliezer constructed his journey in a manner that would elicit helpful hints.   Shalev writes:

“The sign the servant thought up was not just any sign, but one that served both his immediate need and his greater goal.   A maiden who would say, “Drink, and I will also water your camels,” would make a good wife for Isaac--generous, resourceful, strong, kind, self-confident” (Meir Shalev, Beginnings, 15).

Shalev argues that Eliezer’s entire encounter was structured in a way that would lead him to the right spouse for Isaac, and it happens that Eliezer assumes that a person who demonstrates kindness and selfless service would be the right person to take with him, a fact that is echoed in our rabbinic commentaries.

Rabbi Meir Leibush ben Yechiel Michel, otherwise known as the Malbim, writes that Eliezer intentionally sought a woman whose kindness would be demonstrated by her actions.   The Malbim states:

“After selecting the most outwardly attractive of the damsels he required to find out more about her inner qualities and this he did by the “drink and I shall water your camels too” formula.   This would indicate that she was a hospitable, considerate and unassuming person...” (Malbim on Bereishit 24).  

According to the Malbim, the prospect of a caravan of thirsty travelers and livestock was the perfect setup to see whether or not an individual would look out for another’s interest, rather than their own.   As such, by Rebecca initiating her act of kindness, she reveals herself to be the kind of person worthy of forming a marital partnership.

Expanding on this idea, Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim ben Aaron Luntschitz, known as the Keli Yakar, writes that we learn an essential lesson by virtue of the fact that Eliezer felt that kindness was the sole means by which he should evaluate Rebecca.  The Keli Yakar states:

“Eliezer tested Rebecca’s quality of generosity and kindness only....what they obviously meant was that one should look for good deeds to test if she had a “beautiful eye,” i.e. a generous and kindly disposition and kind heart.   For if she looked at people with a kindly and unjaundiced eye then she was undoubtedly endowed with all the other sterling moral qualities” (Keli Yakar on Bereishit 24).

The Keli Yakar wants us to understand kindness as the means by which all other good qualities flourish, and if Eliezer wants to find a single means by which to evaluate a potential spouse for Isaac, then deeming Rebecca to be a kind and considerate person meant that it was likely that she possessed many other holy qualities, as well.

As all of continue to rebuild following Hurricane Sandy, please take a moment to think about how you and your family understand what it means to show kindness to one another.   What were moments when you showed kindness to someone else, or when someone showed kindness to you?   What were moments when you needed an act of kindness, but none came?    How will you use this horrific event to shape the way you perform acts of kindness in future?   In each case, when we think about what it means to educate a child at Schechter, or what it means to be a member of the Schechter community, we are obligated to learn from Rebecca’s email, and see how Eliezer’s journey to find Rebecca can teach us that basic kindness is a seed by which most other important qualities come to blossom.  When succeed in sharing and showing kindness, we create an environment where other feel supported and seen, and ready to shine.   May we continue on that pathway.  

Shabbat Shalom!

A Kavannah After Hurricane Sandy

Hi Everyone

Below is a short prayer, or kavannah, that was written for our community to recite in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.  Please share with whomever you'd like.

Hazak V'Amatz,
Josh

A Kavannah for Our Shabbat Tables Following Hurricane Sandy

By Rabbi Joshua Rabin, Rabbi in Residence

"But as for me, distressed and in pain--may your salvation, God, protect me."

-Tehillim/Psalms 69:29

Our God and God of Our Ancestors,

So often when we gaze into the heavens, we are reminded of the awesome power of the world in which we inhabit. Yet just as that world brings beauty and grandeur, our world can also be a place of destruction.

This past week, we've seen destruction in our planet, our communities, our streets, and even our own homes, and been forced to ask ourselves how to repair what has been broken, and how to rebuild that which has been torn down. And as we see our own brokenness, we see that brokenness shared with others.

As we begin the slow road to recovery, may we take this opportunity to use this disaster to recognize the blessings in our own lives, and what it means to share blessings, shelter, and support with others. May we share our water, our homes, our heat, and our compassion with one another, and ensure that those who need us do not feel alone. The blood to be donated, the clothing to be provided, the structures to be rebuilt, all of these things remind us that our most basic needs are shared, yet too easily taken for granted. In our time of need, our obligation is to care for our loved ones, while not forgetting our wide circle of obligation.

If we might find good in this tragedy, may we find it through the bonding and bridging that takes place when a community looks out for one another, and comes together to bring healing. As we are taught,

"Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow; but woe to him that is alone when he falls, for he has not another to help him up."

-Kohelet/Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

As we enter Shabbat, may this disaster compel us to come closer together, to serve one another, and to strengthen the kehillah kedoshah (holy community) that finds hope amidst despair.

May it happen soon, and speedily, in our days.

Amen.