Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Shelakh Lekha: Emotions on the Fringes

Daniel Goleman writes in Emotional Intelligence that impulse control is one of the key skills in developing one's "Emotional Quotient" (EQ).   He writes:

"A key ability in impulse control is knowing the difference between feelings and actions, and learning to make better emotional decisions by first controlling the impulse to act, then identifying alternative actions and their consequences before acting.  Many competences are interpersonal: reading social and emotional cues, listening, being able to resist negative influences, taking others' perspectives, and understanding what behavior is acceptable to a situation" (Daniel Goleman, Emotional Intelligence, 259).  

According to Goleman, by learning to control impulses, a person develops the capacity to engage in higher-order relationships with other people, which thereby allows them to more successful navigate the personal and emotional challenges that so often keep people from actualizing their potential.  In Parshat Shelakh Lekha, we will see a similar emphasis places upon impulse control through the mitzvah of tzitzit, which our rabbis argue is a mitzvah designed to control our passions so that we might serve God.

In the passage from our parasha that outlines the mitzvah of tzitzit, our parasha contains a curious reference as to the connection between wearing these tzitzit and promoting right conduct by the Israelites:

"This shall be fringes for you, and when you see it, you will remember all the commandments of the Lord to perform them, and you shall not wander after your hearts and after your eyes after which you are going astray" (Bemidbar 15:39).

Our rabbis explored the question of the connection between the image of seeing the tzitzit and engaging in right-conduct and performing God's will.   In his scholarly commentary on the Book of Numbers, Jacob Milgrom writes the following:

"[Tzitzit] are mnemotechnical devices to remind Israel of God's commandments.   Indeed, the purpose of all ritual is, by means of sensual experience, to lead to conviction and finally to action.   The rabbis formulated it thus: "Sight leads to memory and memory to action"" (Jacob Milgrom, The JPS Torah Commentary: Numbers, 128).

Milgrom argues that the tzitzit are a catalyst to commitment a way for the Israelites to a view a physical reminder of their covenant with God, and then act upon their covenant by performing the mitzvot.   However,  in our traditional commentaries, our rabbis will offer a variety of explanations for how this transition from viewing to action takes place.

Rashi's commentary on this verse focuses on the composition of the tzitzit as the way in which a person's eyes will be affected by viewing the tzitzit.  Referencing a midrash from Bemidbar Rabbah, he writes we remember the mitzvot by how the tzitzit are tied:

"You will remember all the commandments of the Lord": because the numerical value of the word tzitzit is six hundred.  [Add to this 600] Eight threads and five knots, and we have six hundred and thirteen" (Rashi on Bemidbar 15:39).  

According to Rashi, because the word tzitzit and the knots and threads of the tzitzit add up to 613, the total number of mitzvot in the Torah, it follows that wearing the tzitzit affect our performance of the mitzvot by providing us a symbolic reminder of all the mitzvot.   Rashi continues by stating citing a different text from Midrash Tanhuma that this reminder will provide a mental check when we are tempted to go astray:

"And you shall not wander after your hearts": "Lo toturu," like "from scouting the Land" (13:5).   The heart and eyes are the spies for the body.  They are its agents for sinning: the eye sees, the heart coverts and the body commits the transgression" (Rashi Ibid.).   

Reading the verse contextually, Rashi asserts that just as the spies in our parasha were influenced to sin by means of what they saw, God commands the Israelites to wear tzitzit so that they might wear something that will influence them to do good, rather than evil.

In a later commentary, Ibn Ezra focuses on the practical tension of wearing the tzitzit in everyday life, and questions whether it is more important to wear tzitzit during tefillot or during the rest of the day.  He writes:

"Those who wear a prayer shawl while praying do so because they recite versus 37-41 as the third paragraph of the Shema.  However, in my opinion, it is more important to wear the fringes during the rest of the day than it is during prayer.   One must observe God's commandments all day, and during prayer is the least likely time for a transgression..."And eyes": The eyes see and the heart desires.   The fringes are both a sign and a symbol that one should not follow the promptings of his hear nor pursue everything his eyes seek" (Ibn Ezra on Bemidbar  15:38-39).

Ibn Ezra's commentary emphasizes that by wearing the tzitzit at all times, as opposed to only during the prayer, the tzitzit fulfill their intended purpose, which is to remind people of the mitzvot at all times.  Like Rashi, Ibn Ezra's commentary argues that the tzitzit are a means by which Israelites will learn to control their passions, and engage in self-control when tempted to diverge from God's will.  

Whether we are teaching our students about how to pursue a life of mitzvot, or helping them deal with difficult people in group projects or the workplace, teaching how to control one's destructive emotions is an essential task of Jewish education.   Like the tzitzit, the more we create habit loops by which we remember how to fight certain impulse, the better we are able to form meaningful relationships with one another in our everyday life, and the better are able to cultivate a life of mitzvot in our spiritual lives.   May we challenge ourselves, our children, and our community, to use the mitzvah of tzitzit to promote the healthy, balance emotions that form the heart of a emotionally intelligent Jewish life.

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Be'ha'alotkha: Watching and Protecting

One of the books I consider most important to my work with Jewish teenagers is Group Work With Adolescents, a social work textbook written by Andrew Malekoff, who works on the North Shore of Long Island.  In this book, Malekoff states that adolescents need the following to become healthy, productive adults:

"For adolescents to become healthy and constructive adults, they must find ways to reach the following goals: find a valued place in a constructive group; learn how to form close, durable human relationships; feel a sense of  worth as a person; achieve a reliable basis for making informed choices; know how to use support systems available to them; express constructive curiosity and exploratory behavior; find ways of being useful to others; and believe in a promising future with real opportunities" (Andrew Malekoff, Group Work With Adolescents).

A close reading of this passage a reveals a tension with which educators must grapple when working with teenagers.  On the one hand, teenagers need to know that supportive adults are available for them when they feel they cannot address a problem alone.  On the other hand, teenagers also need to be given the independence for adult mentors to be their 'guide on the side,' a constant presence that can be called upon when needed, but not someone who never gives that teenager even an inch of independence.   By extension, a successful educative relationship between adults and a teenagers requires a balance between support and independence, between remaining close and letting go.

A similar tension is found in how rabbis imagine the journey of the Israelites to Canaan in Parshat Be'ha'lotkha.   This parasha describes the words that Moses would recite as the Israelites marched with the ark in the wilderness, and one of these verses is recited each time we remove a Sefer Torah from the Aron Ha-Kodesh:

"And it came to pass, when the Ark set forward, that Moses said, 'Rise up, Lord, and let Your enemies be scattered; and let them that hate You flee before You.'  And when it rested, he said, 'Return, O Lord, unto the many thousands of Israel'" (Bemidbar 10:35-36).  

Examining these verses, Robert Alter argues that we should play close attention to the Torah's visual imagery:

""Rise," as several commentators have noted, also has a military sense of "attack," but the visual image of elevation is important- God, imagined as enthroned on the cherubim carved over the Ark, surges up like a warrior-king as the Ark is lifted to be carried forward" (Robert Alter, Numbers 10:35-36, The Five Books of Moses: A Translation With Commentary, 733).

The Torah wants us to see God in a dominant position when these words are invoked.  However, for our rabbinic commentators, the fact that the Moses needed to recite specific words each time the ark moved in the wilderness seems curious.  After all, if God previously told the Israelites that he would protect them, why does Moses need to ask for God's protection at all, much less every time the Israelites and the ark moved forward?

Our midrashim disagree as to how we should interpret the verses from Bemidbar, and whether or not Moses' statements show a complete trust in God, or remind God not to forget the Israelites as they marched through the desert.  Midrash Tanhuma takes the latter position, and argues that Moses' statement was a reminder to God to offer protection:

"Since the Ark used to go three days ahead to find them a resting place day and night – as it says:  "The Ark of the Covenant of the Lord traveled in front of them on that three days' journey to seek out a resting place for them" (Num. 10:33) – at such time Moses would say, "Rise, O Lord, etc.," i.e., stand still and wait for us and do not leave us behind, for it says:  "When the Ark was to set out, Moses would say: Advance, O Lord!  May Your enemies be scattered, etc."" (Midrash Tanhuma, Parshat Vayakhel paragraph 7).

In this midrash, when Moses recites the words from our parasha, he reminds God not to forget the Israelites as they march through the dangerous wilderness.   Contextually, one sees the appeal in this commentary, as the Israelites encountered many enemies throughout the wilderness, and each time Moses relied upon God's protection to help the Israelites emerge victorious in battle.  

In contrast, a midrash from the Sifrei asserts that the liturgy recited upon marching with the ark demonstrated the incredible trust between Moses and God, as opposed to reflecting Moses' need to remind God not to forget them:

"And Moses said, 'Rise up, Lord," and another verse says, "At the commandment of the Lord they rested and at the commandment of the Lord they journeyed."  How can these two verses be reconciled?  To what may this be compared?  To a king who was going on a journey accompanied by his bosom friend.  When he resumes his journey he says: "I shall not go forward until my friend gives the order, and when he halts he says: "I shall not stop until my friend comes along."   This reconciles the verse "And Moses said, 'Rise up, Lord,'" and, "At the commandment of the Lord they journeyed..." (Sifrei on Bemidbar 10:35).

Comparing the verse cited above with another verse in Sefer Bemidar, the Sifrei asserts that Moses did not beseech God because he was worried that God would not protect the Israelites, but rather because Moses trusted God so implicitly that he wanted to ensure that God would remain with them on each stage of the journey.  Nehama Leibowitz argues that this midrash "graphically illustrates the highest degree of communion and closeness between man and his Maker, and the complete identity of aim" (Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Bamidbar, 90).

The above midrashim highlight an essential theological tension.  Our rabbis asked how Moses would ensure that the Israelites could march through the desert unafraid, and should the Israelites invoke God's protection only when they felt alone and powerless, or should they invoke God's name because they felt extremely confident at all times?  In Midrash Tanhuma, Moses implores God not to leave the Israelites behind, implying that Moses entertained the possibility that God might not remain with them for duration of their journey.   In the Sifrei, Moses' calls to God indicate a supreme trust between humanity and God, for Moses cannot imagining taking any step their journey without God, and thus God's presence should be invoked at all times.     However, it is most likely that the journey of the Israelites reflected aspects of each midrash, where sometimes the Israelites felt alone and called upon to provide immediate support, and other times the Israelites were content for God to be the 'guide on the side,' not always stepping in to fight their battles, but being a constant presence of support.

At Schechter, our students rely upon our educators and community members to play a similar in shaping their lives an emerging Jewish adults.   Students of all ages, and especially teenagers, want to feel that they can work out problems for themselves, yet they also value the assurance of knowing that they will not be alone on an island, unable to find help when they face struggles they cannot fight alone.   May each of us embrace the tension of guiding our children in lives as emerging adults and as Jews, knowing when to step up, step back, or simply watch, for each action is essential to building a community of passionate, healthy, confident, and resilience young men and women.

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Naso: Qualities that Shine

This year, I had the pleasure of teaching a course in the high school entitled "Facing History," a national curriculum on Holocaust Education that teaches students how we can use learning as a means to increase justice in the world. I opened our class with a reading by Haim Ginott, a gifted psychologist who was once a prisoner in a concentration camp. He writes:

Dear Teacher, 

I am a survivor of a concentration camp.  My eyes saw what no man should witness: Gas chambers built by learned engineers.  Children poisoned by educated physicians.  Infants killed by trained nurses.  Women and babies shot and burned by high school and college graduates.   So I am suspicious of education.  My request is: Help your students become human.  Your efforts must never produce learned monsters, skilled psychopaths, educated Eichmanns.   Reading, writing, and arithmetic are important only if they serve to make our children more human. 

(Haim Ginott, Teacher and Child). 

In this passage, Ginott raises the distributing truth that while we assume that education is a value of paramount importance, we know of too many examples where education also enables people to commit horrific acts of violence. As a result, Ginott challenges each teacher to see learning as a process of increasing good in the world, so that we might engage each child in a unique way, while also maximizing the potential for good that can come when a person acquires knowledge, a vision that is echoed in this week's parasha.

Parshat Naso contains one of the most famous liturgical passages in the Torah, the priestly blessing, which we now recite either in synagogue as a part of Birkat Kohanim, or on Friday evenings when we bless our children. The passage from the Torah states:

"And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, "Speak unto Aaron and unto his sons, saying, 'You shall bless the children of Israel, saying to them: 'May the Lord bless you, and keep you; May the Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious unto You; May the Lord life up His countenance upon You, and give You peace...'" (Bemidbar 6:22-27).   

The blessing is beautiful, yet vague, and we turn to our rabbinic commentators to understand how each line of the blessing achieves a specific divine objective. For this week's Dvar Torah, I thought I wanted one commentary on the first line of this blessing, and how it relates to Ginott's message.

To examine the first line of the blessing, which asks that God bless and keep the people Israel, we return to the commentary of Rabbi Naftali Tzi Yehuda Berlin, otherwise known as the Netziv, in his Torah commentary, Ha-Emek Davar. This commentary notes that the first line of the blessing is connected to God's desire to wish a unique kind of success for each member of the Israelite nation:

"May the Lord bless you"- "This implies the blessing appropriate to each person; to the student of Torah success in his studies; the businessman- in his business, etc." (Ha-Emek Davar on Bemidbar 6:23).

The Netziv is forced to explain why how "May the Lord bless you" might apply to each individual Israelite, since God commands the priests to bless everyone in the preceding verse. In response, this commentary notes that the priestly blessing should begin by blessing each person in a manner unique to their needs. The commentary then goes on to explain the meaning of the second half of the verse:

"And keep you"- "A blessing requires guardianship so that it should not, God forbid, be turned to a wrong purpose.  The Torah scholar requires guardianship to save him from pride and bringing the name of the Lord into disrepute, and the like.   The businessman requires guardianship against his wealth becoming a stumbling block to him as in the case of Korah and Naboth, and in its literal sense, against theft and loss" (Ha-Emek Davar on Bemidbar 6:23). 

According to the Netziv, while the first half of this line establishes that God's grace will be uniquely reflected in each person, the second half of the verse promises that God will help a person use their best qualities only to increase good in the world, and not to allow that those qualities to stain that's person's name. For example, while God would want someone blessed with high intelligence to maximize their intellectual potential, God would not want that person's intelligence to be a source of arrogance for that person, for when a person's intelligence becomes a source of arrogance, intelligence itself becomes de-valued, since people associate the value with the worst qualities of humanity.  As a result, when our parasha states, "May the Lord bless you and keep you," our commentators see this blessing as a dual-promise. First, God will help each of shine in a way that is unique to us. Second, God will help us use our qualities in the right way, maximizing the good inherent in each of best qualities so that we might make a positive impact the world.

In Rabbi Solomon Bruer's Hokhmo U'Mussar, he writes that every quality, no matter how seemingly positive, has the potential for good and bad:

“Generally, one divides between good and bad inclinations, good and bad qualities. Actually, such a division does not exist. We have often had the occasion to point out that there is not a single human inclination which is bad and therefore objectionable in itself, as little as there is a single inclination which is good and therefore wholesome in itself. It all depends on the proper usage of these inclinations” (Rabbi Solomon Bruer, Hokhmo U'Mussar, Parshat Toledot).

In this commentary, we see the echoes of Ginott's reading and the commentary of the Netziv on Parshat Naso. Any quality can become a person's greatest asset, or greatest liability, depending on how that quality is used in our everyday engagement with the world. However, in Parshat Naso, God promises to the play the role of educator, helping each Israelite cultivate their unique strengths in a way that brings blessing into the world, a challenge that we all face with our children, and in our community. May we cause our children's best qualities to shine through, letting them be a source of blessing to themselves and one another.

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Bemidbar: Our Great Beit Midrash

One of the most famous quotes from former Chancellor Gerson Cohen z''ll of the Jewish Theological Seminary was that, "No Jewish community has ever thrived without a great Beit Midrash at its center."   Every time I hear this quote, I remind myself than when Cohen uses the term "Beit Midrash," he is not referring to a physical space where one can study, but rather that a place exists where the community can engage in deep, meaningful Jewish Torah for the purpose of allowing their community to thrive.    While it is possible for an individual Jew to engage in valuable Torah on their own, ultimately the creation of a critical mass that learns Torah is greater than what any individual can accomplish alone, a lesson that our rabbinic commentators teach us when we examine Parshat Bemidbar.

Our parasha opens with God commanding Moses to take a census of the Israelite nation prior to the nation marching together from the wilderness of Sinai to the land of Canaan.  The parasha states:

"The Lord spoke to Moses in the Sinai Desert, in the Tent of Meeting on the first day of the second month, in the second year after the Exodus from Egypt, saying: "Take a census of the entire congregation of Israel, by families following their fathers' houses; a head count of every male according to the number of their names"" (Bemidbar 1:1-2).   

While most biblical scholars view the census in Parshat Bemidbar as a head-count of those will be able to serve in the Israelite army, a strand of rabbinic commentaries assert that this census is taken because of the relationship between God and the Israelites.   Although his commentary looks at our parasha contextually, Rashi points out that the taking the census might have ulterior divine movies.   He writes:

"The Lord spoke... in the Sinai Desert... on the first of the month": Because they were dear to Him, He counted them often. When they left Egypt, He counted them (Exod. 12:37); when [many] fell because [of the sin] of the golden calf, He counted them to know the number of the survivors (Exod. 32:28); when He came to cause His Divine Presence to rest among them, He counted them. On the first of Nissan, the Mishkan was erected, and on the first of Iyar, He counted them (Rashi on Bemidbar 1:1).

While Rashi points out that God counted the Israelites at several different points in the Torah, making the census in Parshat Bemidbar only one several throughout the Israelites' journey, Rashi's opening that God counted the Israelites frequently because "they were dear to Him" raises the possibility that God commanded this census for a deeper purpose than mere military conscription.   

In a modern commentary, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch argues that the census in Parshat Bemidbar attempts to elevate the entire congregation of Israel by means of counting each of them, for counting each person ensures that every person knows that they count.   He writes:

"When instructing Moses our Teacher to count the children of Israel, the Divine words were carefully chosen to avoid misinterpretation of the symbolism of the desert.   "Elevate the heads of the entire congregation of Israel."   Every individual should be aware that he is capable of being elevated and can reach the greatest heights.    In the last Parasha of Vayikra, we learn of the mitzvah of taking off every tenth cattle and designating it as holy.  However, when it comes to counting the children of Israel, we must know that every individual is sacred" (Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, Torah Gems: Bamidbar, page 7).   

HIrsch's commentary emphasizes the communal aspect of the census, for making note of how many people are in the community is a subtle reminder to the community of each's person value.    While previous and future censuses might be limited to specific groups within the Israelite nation, this all-encompassing census provides an opportunity to draw attention to the sum of all the nation's parts.   

However, in taking a spiritual and even mystical approach, the Sefat Emet argues that the taking of the census is not for the purpose of counting individual people, but for recognizing the whole of the Israelite nation is infinitely greater than the sum of its parts, and this infinite whole should draw us to the study of Torah.    He writes:

"The Torah that lies before us is the garb of Torah.  It is by means of study that we arouse the force that lies within it.  That is the real power of Israel: to awaken the root of Torah...the Midrash refers to this counting of the children as being "like the scribe's count."  Just as the Torah has words and letters that are subject to counting but its root is high above, beyond all count, so, too, are the souls of Israel countable in this world, while in their root they are beyond all number.   Thus the holy books say that the 600,000 Jews [who came out of Egypt] are parallel to the 600,000 letters in the Torah" (Sefat Emet Bemidbar 4:6).

In other words, the Sefat Emet argues that lest we think that census someone implies that each Israelite is a mere number to be included in an inexorable list of names, one must recognize that each member of the Israelites is endowed with the ultimate sanctity given to the Jewish people.    Furthermore, because the Torah is a book consisting of words and  letters whose ultimate whole is greater than the sum of its parts, one must emphasize the way in which Torah study makes the Jewish people as individuals feel a part of something greater.

Next week, our Upper School be preparing for the holiday of Shavuot with two special events.   First, students in our tenth and eleventh grade bible classes, under the direction of Mrs. Becky Friedman and Ms. Esther DuBow, will be teaching students from grades six through nine about Jewish texts regarding Torah study, Torah values, and Shavuot.  Second, after all the students study together, we will come together to welcome a new Sefer Torah into our community, dedicated by the Zarabi Family.   In each case, our Torah study and Torah education provide powerful educational moments if and only if the individuals in our community come together and engage in the communal celebration and learning that makes our community greater than any individual.   May each of us always feel counted in our learning at Schechter, our community's great Beit Midrash, drawing together one another so that we might make Torah a part of each of us.

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Behar-Behukotai: For Our Own Good

Martin Seligman and Christopher Peterson write in Character Strengths and Virtues: A Handbook and Classification about the value of positive and negative feedback and developing humility in one's sense of self, and the capacity to grow and change.  They write:

"Secure attachment provides a sense of security that can serve as a buffer against the effects of negative feedback. A sense of security by itself should be insufficient to foster humility, however, because a highly secure person might become arrogant if not given realistic feedback. In order to become humble, it seems crucial that a child learn that both positive feedback and negative feedback are worth considering. Such lessons could come from parental modeling of humility, or they might come from humbling feedback. Reality-based feedback from a parent or teacher about one’s strengths and weaknesses would probably be especially useful, particularly if conveyed in an atmosphere of caring and respect" (Martin Seligman and Christopher Petersen, Character Strengths and Virtues: A Handbook and Classification, Kindle Edition).   

Seligman and Peterson's emphasis on the value of learning how to receive positive and negative feedback reminds us that, when worded properly, nothing is more valuable to a person's development than a well-delivered piece of rebuke.   However, the challenge for the giver of rebuke is to understand how to critique an individual aspect of a person's behavior, while also reaffirming the importance of the relationship itself, a model we see in this week's parasha of Behar-Behukotai. 
 
In our parasha, while God makes clear that ignoring the mitzvot will result in harsh punishments, God also makes clear that punishment for ignoring the commandments does not change God's feelings towards the Israelites.  The parasha states:

"And yet for all that, when they are in the land of their enemies, I will not despise them, nor will I abhor them, to destroy them utterly, and to break My covenant with them, for I am the Lord their God" (Vayikra 26:44).

While one may be comforted to read that God will not abandon the Israelites when they sin, our rabbinic commentators ask the question as to why God would simultaneously promise punishment and reassure loyalty, and what we can learn from God's decision.

In general, our rabbinic commentators argue that although God may find it necessary to punish the Israelites, punishment for individual or collective failures does not abrogate the covenant between God and the Jewish people.   Rashi writes in his commentary that the above verse provides God's reassurance that even if punishment is warranted, punishment does not requiring a severance of the entire relationship:

"And yet for all that- but even though I shall execute on them this punishment which I have mentioned, when they shall be in the land of their enemies, I will not reject them to make an end of them and to make void.  My covenant which has been with them" (Rashi on Vayikra 26:44). 

According to Rashi, if God did not provide the reassurance in verse 44, one might think that any punishment brought by God would also result in God's abandonment of the covenant.   However, Rashi argues that the Torah includes this verse so that one will know that covenant remains even if punishment is required.

Taking a different interpretive approach, Abraham Ibn Ezra argues that verse 44 not only reassures the Israelites that the covenant will not be broken, but also provides an explanation as to how God's punishment is actually a fulfillment of the covenant itself.   Ibn Ezra states:

"I will not reject them or spurn them so as to destroy them"- I intend only to discipline them until their heart humbles itself..."Annulling My covenant with them"- For I swore to keep My covenant with them.  Even if they have broken, I will not do so, "for I the Lord am their God" (Ibn Ezra on Vayikra 26:44).

According to Ibn Ezra, God's covenant does not exist solely for the purpose of obedience to God's will, as that would assume that God wants us to follow the mitzvot only for the sake of following them.  Instead, the covenant exists so that God might form a relationship with the Israelites that results in their improvement as human beings.   As such, when God brings punishment upon the Israelites, the punishment is for brought to improve the behavior and moral compass of the Israelites, so that the Israelites might be become better partners in the covenant.  Therefore, Ibn Ezra's commentary takes the position that God reassures the Israelites in verse 44 because God wants the Israelites to know that the punishment is brought to strengthen the covenant, rather than weaken it.   

Finally, Rabbi Hayyim ibn Attar, the "Or Ha-Hayyim," argues that verse 44 provides God's opportunity to remind the Israelites the he is loyal to them because of the covenant, and punishment for individual acts will not result in God's abandonment of the Israelites, or flirtation with other nations.   The Or Ha-Hayyim states:

"In the covenant God promised the children of Israel who were going out to Egypt that He would not change them for another nation.  This promise is repeated here- "For I am the Lord your God"- and not of another nation.   This was stated also at Mount Sinai- "You shall be My own treasure from among all peoples"" (Or Ha-Hayyim on Vayikra 26:44).   

The Or Ha-Hayyim's commentary emphasizes that God's promises to the Israelites are eternal, for the covenant at Mount Sinai marked the beginning of a lifelong relationship, rather than a temporal one.  If and when the Israelites are punished, God wants them to understand that their relationship will remain for the long-haul, and that they have nothing to fear.

When I read this week's parasha, I am reminded of God's unique ability in the Torah to simultaneously affirm the need to rebuke the Israelites, yet all reassure them that the covenant remains for eternity.    In this sense, we can learn a great deal about education in our parasha, because a forming a lifelong educational relationship requires that teachers and learners have the comfort with one another to offer criticism while still understanding that the relationship will endure.   May we challenge ourselves to use our parasha a paradigm of offering feedback and remaining loyal to one another, for it is these two values that ultimately strengthen learning communities in every generation.   

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Emor: God's Harvest

On April 22nd, communities around the world celebrated Earth Day, a holiday created to remind us of our obligation to be mindful stewards of our planet. In an article entitled "Tending to Our Cosmic Oasis," former Chancellor of JTS Ismar Schorsch writes that Judaism obligates us to reject the notion that all our material possessions are permanent, but rather that anything we own or posses is ultimately due to God's grace. Schorsch writes:

"...Judaism pulsates with reverence for God’s handiwork. Man may embody the highest form of consciousness in the universe, but hardly merits the limitless power of an absolute monarch. His unique ability to unravel the secrets of nature does not make him the equal of its creator...Judaism is a religious tapestry designed to sharpen our eye for the divine, in nature as well as in history, and thus is laced with universal motifs relevant to our contemporary crisis" (Ismar Schorsch, "Tending to Our Cosmic Oasis," The Melton Journal: Issues and Themes in Jewish Education, Vol. 24 (Spring 1991), 3).

Chancellor Schorsch cautions anyone from assuming that our ability to have possessions means that we are permanent owners of anything, for all things in this world are subject to God's will, and anyone blessed with plenty must use their good fortune to bring divine sanctity into this world, an idea expressed in Parshat Emor's depiction of the mitzvah of the omer.

Parshat Emor describes God's command to the Israelites that, prior to eating any food that is produced in the harvest season, the Israelites should bring an omer of their harvest to the Kohanim for a sacrifice. The parasha states:

"And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, "Speak to the children of Israel and say to them: When you come to the Land which I am giving you, and you reap its harvest, you shall bring it to the kohen an omer of the beginning of your harvest. And he shall wave the omer before the Lord so that it will be acceptable for you; the kohen shall unblemished lamb in its first year as a burnt offering to the Lord..." (Vayikra 23:9-12).

As is often the case in Sefer Vayikra, our rabbis were curious as to meaning behind the mitzvah of the omer, and how providing this portion of our harvest to God achieves certain larger aims in terms of the relationship between God and the Israelites. Beginning with our rabbinic midrashim, the bringing of an omer is considered intimately connected to something about the divine-human relationship. The midrash states:

"Do not take the precept of the omer lightly, for it was by merit of this commandment Abraham was privileged to inherit the Land of Canaan...as it is stated, "And I will give You, and to your seed after you, the Land..." (Genesis 17:8) on condition that you shall keep My covenant (17:9). What is meant by covenant? The precept of the omer" (Midrash Vayikra Rabbah 28:6).

The above midrash argues that something about the omer relates to the covenant between God and Abraham, as their covenant remains a paradigm through all of Jewish history. However, the midrash is opaque in terms of how exactly collecting the omer specifically reminds one of the covenental relationship.

Two later commentaries on the Torah offer a similar theme about the true meaning of the omer, and how bringing an omer to the kohanim makes a profound statement about the nature of our material possessions and our relationship with God. First, the Akedat Yitzhak, a super-commentary on Rashi by Rabbi Isaac ben Moses Arama, argues that collecting an omer of the first fruits acknowledges the covenant by forcing the individual to recognize that their harvest, no matter how bountiful, does not belong to them, but ultimately belongs to God:

“The declaration “When you come to the land which I give to you” collocates with the Divine promise, “For the Lord your God brings you into a good land...a land of wheat and barley...a land in which you shall eat bread without scarceness....when you have eaten are replete, then you shall bless the Lord your God...Beware that you forget not the Lord your God.”  The land was to be given to the people of Israel as a means to an end, as a necessary tool to achieve the ultimate goal and satisfaction (i.e. the appropriation of the Torah).  The omer of the first fruits reflects this idea.   Hence the prohibition to eat from the new produce before the offering up of the omer.   The priest is to wave it before the Lord in order that the offering of the people may be accepted and their awareness deepened that all this is at our disposal- not for its own sake, as fools are wont to think, but to enable us to serve God” (Akedat Yitzhak on Vayikra 23).   

According to the Akedat Yitzhak, lest one believe that a bountiful harvest is indicative of a person's own intrinsic worth, the mitzvah of the omer exists to remind each Israelite that any bounty from that harvest exists not for material wealth for its own sake, but to serve God. By extension, each time one sanctifies a piece of their harvest to God, they are not only acknowledging God's sanctity in the short-term, but making a statement about humanity's responsibility to obey God in the long-term.

Second, Rabbi Moses Alshikh, a sixteenth-century Torah commentator, writes that the omer not only reminds the Israelites that they are not responsible for indefinite material gains, but also that they are not responsible for their inheritance of the land of Israel. Alshikh states:

"Lest we succumb to pride, God has commanded us to offer up the earliest product of the Israelite harvest presenting the priest one omer as a token of our gratitude, of our acknowledgment that God is the Creator of the Land and all it produces...When you come to the Land implies no conquest but the acquisition of a legacy. This may foster the illusion that the Land belongs to Israel permanently and unconditionally, to be inherited by their children to be tilled and cultivated, and to reap the fruits of their sweat and toil" (Moses Alshikh on Vayikra 23:10).

According to Alshikh, we should not limit our understanding of the omer's significance to only the harvesting of the land, but of Israel's inheritance of the land itself. God will provide the Israelites a beautiful land with which to reap successful harvest, yet the harvests and the land itself are both depend on our willingness to accept God's Torah, and live our lives in intimate connection to the Divine.

Whether we are thinking about humanity's relationship to the environment, or how we teach our children to value people and community more than things, the above commentaries about the omer teach us what it means to maintain humility about who really "owns" our possessions, and take notice of the ways that we can allow God's presence to overcome the temptations of materialism. All of us, at any stage of life, can become convinced that we are the masters of our destiny and possessions, yet ultimately our parasha provides us a model by which we can take a step back, and give something ourselves as a means of acknowledging that God's role in providing us a bounty through which we can harvest all the goodness in our lives.

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Aharei Mot-Kedoshim: Marshmallows and Holiness

If I had to choose a single scientific experiment that significantly impacts my work as a Jewish educator, I would choose the famous Stanford Marshmallow Experiment . This experiment consisted of a group of young children who were left alone in a room with a piece of their favorite candy, and were told that they could either eat the single piece of candy now, or wait fifteen minutes and receive an entire bag of that type of candy. Ultimately, after observing the students for the next several decades, the researchers found that the students who were able to delay gratification for fifteen minutes demonstrated higher achievement in a number of areas than those who chose not to wait and ate the single piece of candy.  

As a Jewish educator, I look at this experiment and remember that we oftentimes fail to teach our children that delayed gratification is a Jewish value, and the basic practice of practicing restraint in certain areas of our lives benefits us spiritually, inter-personally, professionally, and even materially. Believe it or not, this idea can be found in Parshat Aharei Mot-Kedoshim when we closely examine how our rabbis interpret the famous verse where God says, "You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am Holy" (Vayikra 19:2).  

One of our earliest midrashim on this verse establishes the idea that holiness represents an ability to separate one's own behavior from the behavior of others. The Sifra states:

"You shall be holy"- you shall set yourselves apart. "For I, the Lord your God, am holy"- meaning that if you make yourselves holy, I shall credit you as if you had sanctified Me, but if you do not make yourselves holy, I shall view as if you have not sanctified me" (Sifra Kedoshim 1:1).  

This midrash argues that sanctifying oneself is inherently connected to sanctifying God, and our later commentators will be tasked with understanding what are the specific actions that define our capacity to attain that sanctity.

However, when our Medieval Commentators examine this verse, a famous debate takes place in the commentaries of Rashi and Ramban as to whether or not this verse should be read narrowly or broadly. Rashi writes:

"“You shall be holy”: abstain from forbidden relations and from sin.  The concept of holiness always accompanies the laws of sexual relations..." (Rashi on Vayikra 19:2).

Rashi's commentary asserts that the statement "You shall be holy" must be connected to the forthcoming prohibitions of illicit sexual relationships, since the broad principle would most likely apply to the specific prohibitions that the Torah ultimately lists. If we read the verse from our parasha narrowly, we can see the appeal in Rashi's interpretation, as it limits the principle of "You shall be holy" to that which immediately follows it.

However, when the Ramban examines the same verse, he argues that Rashi construes the verse too narrowly, and ignores the broadly principle that is explicated through this entire passage. The Ramban states the following:

"In my opinion, this "purity," is not, as Rashi holds, confined to the laws of sexual relations, but rather that associated throughout the Talmud with the pious, called Perushim (abstemious, saintly). This is so because the Torah forbids certain relations and foods, permits intercourse with one's wife and the consumption of meat and wine...Therefore, after outlining absolute prohibitions, we are given a general command of restraint from things that are permitted" (Ramban on Vayikra 19:2).

According to the Ramban, while Rashi is correct to relate the principle of "You shall be holy" to sexual relationships, Rashi ignores the fact that similar language in used in other places where holiness is connected to the importance of restraining one's behavior. Instead, the Ramban argues that we should see the principle of "You shall be holy" as introducing us to limitations placed upon for a specific act that, under other circumstances, we are permitted to perform. For example, while the Torah limits specific sexual relationships, the Torah also states that it is a mitzvah to procreate. Similarly, while the Torah describes examples when a person can or should limit or abstain from consuming alcohol, such as in the case of the nazir, the Torah does not completely prohibit alcohol consumption. In each case, the Ramban argues that the Torah is attempting to explain how placing limitations upon ourselves is an essential element towards pursuing a pathway of holiness.

In the modern commentary, Chancellor Ismar Schorsch argues that the statement "You shall be holy" expresses Judaism's promotion of self-denial as an act of spirituality. He writes:

“....holiness in Judaism begins with self-denial.  The basic thrust of the Torah is to limit our freedom of action.  In Jewish law the proverbial 613 commandments break down into 365 proscriptions and only 248 prescriptions.   The ideal is not to be governed by our impulse, nor to try out everything that we are capable of doing.   Dissipation is a danger to both health and truth.  Judaism is our Walden Pond where simplicity is the key to mastering life; less is more, and “a man is rich in proportion to the things he can afford to let alone” (Henry David Thoreau)” (Ismar Schorsch, “Aharei-Mot Kedoshim: What is Holiness?”, Canon Without Closure: Torah Commentaries, 420).

One cannot read Schorsch's commentary without seeing the echoes of Ramban's interpretation, for Chancellor Schorsch is notes that we choose not to do says a great deal about our capacity for divine connection. In each case, our rabbis articulate that the Torah aims to use prohibited acts as a means of attaining sanctity by emphasizing the value of teaching restraint, delayed gratification and impulse control.

At every stage of life, we are faced with opportunities to act impulsively, or to show restraint. Whether we are tempted to say something inappropriate to or about a friend or colleague, decide whether to have a salad or a slice of pizza for lunch, or spend our money or place it in the bank, all of us spend our lives living through moments when restraint is a value that pays short-term and long-term dividends. Fittingly, our rabbis understand the principle "You shall be holy" as imploring us to embrace restraint as a Jewish value, and may we teach that principle to children, students, and members of our community.

Shabbat Shalom!