Weekly D'var Torah

 Parshat Mishpatim
Thought, Speech and Action
Daniel R. Weiss
Middle School Judaic Studies Principal/K-8 Judaic Program Coordinator

dweiss@grossschechter.org

In last week’s Parsha, Yitro, we read that God gave the Ten Commandments to the Jewish people.  Much has been written about the Ten Commandments: their order, significance and how they were divided onto the two tablets.

Before we go any further, here’s the complete list of Ten Commandments.

1. Believe in God
2. Don’t pray to idols
3. Don’t use God’s name in vain
4. Observe Shabbat
5. Honor your parents
6. Don’t murder
7. Don’t commit adultery
8. Don’t steal
9. Don’t bear false witness
10. Don’t covet

According to Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch the first five commandments deal with the relationship between people and God (bein adam laMakom). The second five deal with commandments that are bein adam l’adam (person to person relationships).  This theory seems problematic since the fifth commandment (honoring your parents) appears to be a person-to-person issue.  If we consider, however, that our parents were God’s partners in our creation, we can better understand that God is part of the parental relationship.

Another theory regarding the division of the commandments is that one tablet had the first commandment and the second had the last nine. This would imply that if you do not believe in the first commandment, you don’t need to go any further.

Rabbi Hirsch suggests another interesting perspective.  He suggests that one must look at them side by side.  The following illustration will help.

We begin with thought: belief in God, not believing in idols.  We then move to speech: not using God’s name in vain.  Finally to action: keeping Shabbat, honoring our parents.  When it comes to our relationship with God, we move from “think” to “speech” to “act.” In other words, we think before we act.

When it comes to our relationship with people, we act (don’t murder, don’t commit adultery, don’t steal) before we speak (don’t bear false witness), and certainly before we think things entirely through (don’t covet).

In looking at this approach, we can see the interplay and cyclical nature of the commandments:  we internalize main ideas before we speak; we speak before we act; we return to our speech and finally internalize our speech and actions.

Here are ways this interplay works out:

• If we believe in God and trust that He will provide for us, we don’t need to covet what our neighbor has (one and ten).
• Slandering and misrepresenting our neighbor is similar to worshipping idols, in that we are misrepresenting our belief in man and God (two and nine).
• When we use God’s name in vain, we are stealing from the sanctity of His name (three and eight).
• If we do not realize that Shabbat is a symbol of our relationship with God and with creation, much like adultery, we are cheating on our partner (four and seven).
• Finally, the commandment of honoring our parents is given the reward (the only one of the ten with a reward) that our days will be lengthened.  Dishonoring them is in effect limiting our days, which could be tantamount to murder (five and six).

This interplay among the Commandments can apply to other laws in the Torah. In Mishpatim we are taught, “One who strikes his father or his mother shall surely be put to death.”  According to Rashi, the cause of this death would be strangulation – making our words unintelligible.  We carry a heavy mantle both in our speech and through our action.  We are the legacy of our parents.  By showing them dishonor we are destroying their legacy.

The mitzvah of shooing away the mother bird before one takes her eggs is also given the reward of the lengthening of days.  It seems odd that such an easy mitzvah of shooing away a bird and such a difficult mitzvah of honoring our parents would carry the same reward.  One answer to this dilemma is that it teaches us that each mitzvah is equally important, from the easiest to the hardest, whether we understand their meaning or not.

When looking at the various laws in the Torah some appear to make sense based on our reason, while others seem to be “beyond” reason. In reality, all of the mitzvot are important and linked.  As a complete system, they require us to weigh our thoughts, speech and actions, and they all assume a belief in God and the spark of the divine that exists in every human being.

Parshat Yitro
Ms. Holly Litwin
MS Tankah teacher
hlitwin@grossschechter.org

Parshat Yitro culminates in the greatest and most significant historical and religious event ever experienced by the Jewish people.  This is the gift of the Ten Commandments and the Torah at Mount Sinai.  The fact that this divine revelation plays out on a national scale and involves each and every Jew is an important facet of the notion that Torah is equally the inheritance of all of us.  Exodus Chapter 19 verse 2 describes in Hebrew using the plural verb, forms the following details about Bnei Yisrael’s arrival in the Sinai wilderness, “They journeyed from Rephidim and arrived at the wilderness of Sinai.”  Then this verse mysteriously switches to the Hebrew singular verb form to state, “Israel encamped there opposite the mountain.”  Rashi comments that it is odd how the verse switches from the plural of “Vayichanu” to the “Vayichan” when it describes how the children of Israel encamped across from Mount Sinai.  Normally based on grammatical correctness, we would expect it to say encamped in the plural Hebrew form, as it was the entire nation encamped at Mount Sinai.  Rashi beautifully shares the following commentary on why the Torah deviates into the singular verb conjugation here mid-verse.  Rashi explains that Israel encamped at Mount Sinai as one person with one heart unlike all the other desert encampments that involved complaints and arguments.  True inter-personal unity (achdut) and a sense of shared purpose with each other were at the forefront of our ability to ultimately unite with G-d and be worthy of the gift of the Torah.

Yet this significant national experience remains clouded in mystery and fear.  A careful reading of the parsha shows the trepidation felt by the Jews as they see the fire, smoke and lightning, feel the mountain quaking and trembling, hear the shofar blasts and voice of G-d and worry that this powerful experience is beyond what their bodies and souls can withstand.   The Jews beg Moshe to take over and speak for G-d to ensure that they survive their experience of Matan Torah.   At the beginning of this process, Bnei Yisrael are able to overcome their uncertainty and worries by an incredible leap of faith and a belief in the redemptive future experience that awaited them through their establishing a national covenant with G-d.  As they prepare to receive the Torah at Mount Sinai verse 8 in chapter 19 of Exodus states, “And all the people answered together and said, every thing that the Lord has spoken we shall do!” Besides showing tremendous courage, this also reveals the strong sense of communal unity involved in each and every person answering together.

While those of us living today as Jews were born many years removed from Mount Sinai perceive that we are physically and chronologically distanced from the original reception of the Torah at Sinai we must understand that in a spiritual sense we are on equal footing to our ancestors.  Each and every Jew in all generations chooses whether to deepen and broaden their own personal covenant with G-d through the Torah’s ethical and ritual commandments and teachings.  When we engage in these mitzvot, we are establishing our own personal Mount Sinai experience and it is transformative on both a personal and a national scale.  The concept that, the souls of all future generations of Jews yet to be born (and converts to Judaism yet to be born) were spiritually at Sinai, gives us all a part of a very sacred and precious shared experience.  May we merit seeing both in ourselves and in others the incredible holiness and potential that G-d saw in us all at Sinai.

This week’s D’var Torah was written by Ms. Holly Litwin, MS Tanakh teacher.  She can be reached at hlitwin@grossschechter.org

 Parshat Beshalach – Who is like You God, doing wonders?
Daniel R. Weiss
Middle School Judaic Studies Principal/K-8 Judaic Program Coordinator
dweiss@grossschechter.org

Mi Chamocha BaElim Adonai?  Mi Chamocha N’edar BaKodesh, Nora Tehillot Oseh feleh?

Who is like You among the powerful, God?  Who is like You, mighty in holiness, awesome in splendor, doing wonders?

Miracles happen all around us.  The question is – Can we see them?

In our daily services, both in the morning and in the evening, we praise God with the words of the Mi Chamocha.  While many prayers are based on Jewish values found in the Torah, few actually contain direct quotes.   The most famous of these would be the Shema.

Before we recite the Shema in the morning service, we can find the words of Az Yashir, the Song of the Sea, sung by the Jewish people when they left Egypt for the wilderness and found in this week’s Parsha, Beshalach.  Embedded in Az Yashir, are the words of the Mi Chamocha (which are repeated in our prayers before the Amidah).

The crossing of the sea is one of the biggest miracles witnessed by the Jewish people.  Imagine the scene: As you are running from the fast advancing Egyptian army, you see in front of you, a sea.  You are trapped.  Your friends are complaining to Moshe that he brought you out of the land to die in the wilderness.  Suddenly a ring of fire surrounds the Egyptian army.  You see in the distance a man running into the water and then it happens – the sea splits and you can escape to safety.

It’s a pretty amazing story – a pretty miraculous event, experienced by an entire nation.

Makes you wonder – Where is our splitting sea?  Where is our ring of fire?

We proclaim God’s power, His ability to do wonders?  Where are our wonders?

Walking through halls of Schechter each morning, one can hear the sounds of children praying, singing the words of Mi Chamocha.  Over the past weeks, families have come to the school to join as a community in marking the beginning and conclusion of Shabbat, in events sponsored by our Parents Association.

Those are miracles.  The survival of our people, the ability that we have to come together as a community in song, prayer, and social events – that is truly miraculous.

When we stop to realize the little miracles and not wait for the big ones, we can see that they are all around us.

For those who study Kabbalah, finding small miracles is less difficult.  They are able to look for small idiosyncrasies (things that others might find as coincidence) and use them to strengthen their belief.

Rabbi Shlomo Alkabetz was such a Kabbalist.  Alkabetz felt that the best way to truly understand and experience God’s miracles was by living in the holy city of Tzfat.  It was while living in Tzfat that Alkabetz was able to see Shabbat as a miracle of God and incorporated that belief into the words of his greatest poem – Lecha Dodi.

Lecha Dodi is included as part of the Kabbalat Shabbat service and focuses on the power of God and the redemption He will bring.  Alkabetz incorporated his name (Shlomo) in Lecha Dodi, by beginning each verse with a letter of his name.

Kabbalists feel that there is a hidden world accessible through the four-letter name of God (Yud-Hey-Vav-Hey).  There is a deep connection between this name of God and our central prayer (Shema).  This connection can be found through the use of Gematria (numerology).  The following pictures will help illustrate:

The total of God’s name in Gematria is 26.

The first letter of the Hebrew alphabet is Alef, it’s numeric value is one (echad).  When we say Shema, we say that God is One.  If you take the letter Alef and break it into three parts, you can see two yuds and a vav.  Together the value is 26, thus making an Alef (1), equal to the four-letter, unpronounceable name of God (26).  To a Kabblalist, God truly is One.

When we say the words of Mi Chamocha, in essence we are proclaiming the Oneness of God.

This can be further illustrated when we look at the chorus to Lecha Dodi – which contains 26 letters.

To bring it all together -
Shabbat is my splitting of the sea.  It is my opportunity to reconnect with the miracles that are around me, with the power of God.

Next Shabbat, our Third through Fifth graders and their families will come together to bring in Shabbat.  We will sing the words of L’Cha Dodi, Shema and Mi Chamocha, and together we will be an example of the miracles of God.

This week’s D’var Torah was written by, Daniel R. Weiss.  He can be reached at dweiss@grossschechter.org

Parashat Bo
Rabbi Jim Rogozen
Headmaster
rogozen@grossschechter.org

Every year, as we read Parashat Bo, Jewish educators are reminded of the story of the little boy who comes home from Hebrew school and tells his parents how Moses took the Jewish People out of Egypt.

“Mom, Dad, it was awesome! Moshe and just a few Israelites fought against millions of Egyptians and they destroyed all of them! There were tanks and bombs and F-15 fighter jets. And then the stealth bombers came in and blew up Pharoah’s palace…it was sooo cool!”

The father asked, “Did they teach you that in Hebrew School?”

“No,” said the son. “But if I told you what really happened, you wouldn’t have believed me!”

Children are often the source of profound insights when it comes to theology. Or as Professor Ronald Heifetz of Harvard (a Schechter Boston parent) once wrote:  “…buried inside a poorly packaged interjection may lie an important intuition.”

The child’s concern that his parents wouldn’t believe the story of Yetziat Miztrayim, the Exodus from Egypt, suggests that as we grow up something happens to us. We become prone to losing our sense of awe and wonder. We tend to become cynical about the Bible, and religion in general.

Rabbi Louis Jacobs wrote that those who actually lived through the momentous events described in the Bible believed that God actually did those things – because they were there, they saw it all. Centuries later, he said, we are left with an overall belief in the idea of God, and the stories in the Bible. Our belief is not experiential, but intellectual.

There’s even a midrash that says the greatest of all philosophers cannot come close to the wonder experienced by the lowliest of handmaidens standing by as God split the Sea of Reeds.

Professor Abraham Joshua Heschel, a theologian at the Jewish Theological Seminary whose passion for God inspired generations of Jews and non-Jews, taught that “wonder rather than doubt is the root of all knowledge.”

He also warned us that “when faith is completely replaced by creed, worship by discipline, love by habit … when faith becomes heirloom rather than a living fountain … its message becomes meaningless.”

We should remember, therefore, that the mission of Jewish Education is to instill in our students that sense of wonder and awe and radical amazement that our ancestors experienced.

If we teach the Exodus story and only focus on the details of the story, we miss the big picture: God chose us, He rescued us, He brought us to Mt. Sinai and He gave us the Torah. Every Friday night, if we pay attention to the words, we can rediscover this relationship as we recite the Kiddush: “zecher l’yetziat mitzrayim, kee vanu vacharta v’otanu kidashta” (this is a remembrance of the Exodus and how You chose us and made us a holy people.”).

We don’t need miracles or tanks or fighter jets to sense God’s presence.  Heschel reminds us: “Just to be is a blessing. Just to live is holy.”

It is in the ongoing, moment-by-moment meeting with God where humility, gratitude, a love for others, and a passion to improve the world are born.

May we all continue to educate and inspire; as educators and parents, we hold the future in our hands.

This week’s D’var Torah was written by Rabbi Jim Rogozen, Headmaster.  He can be reached at rogozen@grossschechter.org

Parshat VaEra: The Shabbat Queen
Daniel R. Weiss
Middle School Judaic Studies Principal/K-8 Judaic Program Coordinator
dweiss@grossschechter.org

In last week’s D’var Torah, Ms. Amy Pincus focused on the “Five Righteous Women” found in Parashat Shemot.  In this week’s parsha, VaEra, we are introduced to two more women, whose roles in the parsha are much smaller, but who are significant in the history of the Jewish people.

The first is Elisheva.  Elisheva comes from the tribe of Judah; she is the brother of Nachshon ben Aminadav (the first person who stepped into the sea, causing it to split) and the wife of Aaron, Moses’ brother, the first High Priest.  Elisheva is significant in our history, as she was the mother of the priestly class.

The second woman in this week’s parsha is the wife of Aaron’s son, Eleazar, the daughter of Petuel.  Though she is not named, she is the mother or Pinchas, a high priest after Aaron’s death, who helped to keep the growing Jewish nation spiritually on the right track.

The Kohanim helped build our community.  They helped to bring the Jewish people closer to God.

Common wisdom suggests that behind every great man is a great woman.  A particular quote from the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, embellishes on this point – “The man is the head, but the woman is the neck. And she can turn the head any way she wants.”

Each week when families sit together to have their Shabbat dinner, there is a custom for the husband to sing the words of Eishet Chayil to his wife.  Eishet Chayil, A Woman of Valor, comes from chapter 31 of Mishlei, the Book of Proverbs.  According to Rabbi Elliott Dorff it is a poem ahead of its time.  In it we praise women for not only taking care of household duties, but at the same time engaging in business.  It paints a portrait of a “supermom” who not only raises a family but establishes a career.  Ellen Frankel, CEO and editor in chief of the Jewish Publication Society suggests that the song, written as an acrostic, following the Alef-Bet, is formulaic, summing up a woman’s virtues from “A to Z”.

Though the opening words are “A woman of valor who can find,” I am always moved by my uncle’s re-working of the words to “A woman of valor I have found.”  If we look at those around us, each of us has found “her”.

In a D’var Torah earlier this year, I cited the Kabbalistic interpretation of the Havdalah service.  Eishet Chayil can also be seen through using Kabbalistic ideas.  The woman of valor, according to Kabbalah, is the Shabbat queen (about whom we sing about in L’cha Dodi and Shalom Aleichem).  The Shabbat queen is therefore the spiritual soul mate of the Jewish people.  To take this a step further – no relationship is complete without God.  This can be illustrated by the following image.

In each human, there is a holy spark (fire).  When a man and woman come together, they create a union with God.  The same is true on Shabbat.  By sanctifying the Shabbat, by bringing each day of the week together, we create a union with God.  This too can be shown in an image that I shared earlier this year.

This week, as our Kindergarten through second grade families join together to welcome Shabbat, when we sing together the words of Eishet Chayil, we should think of the dedicated mothers and wives who have worked so hard on behalf of our SPA (Schechter Parent Association) to create another opportunity for us to strengthen our bonds and help us create a stronger union – with each other and with God.

This week’s D’var Torah was written by Daniel R. Weiss.  He can be reached at dweiss@grossschechter.org

 Five Righteous Women
Amy Pincus
Torah and Tefillah Specialist
apincus@grossschechter.org

“As a reward for the righteous women of that generation, the Israelites were redeemed from Egypt.”
- Babylonian Talmud 11b

In her book, Standing Again at Sinai, Judith Plaskow writes, “Traditional apologetic accounts of the role of women in Judaism often begin with Miriam, Deborah, or Huldah as luminous examples of Jewish womanhood proving the dignity and equality of Jewish women throughout the ages. The existence of female judges and prophets indicates the accessibility to women of charismatic leadership roles. Women may have been barred from established, inherited religious office, but when, in the biblical period, ‘the mantle of the Lord’ fell upon a particular woman, she could judge or prophecy with authority, and was accorded communal recognition and respect.”

However, as important as references to exceptional women are in allowing us to reconfigure the scope of women’s roles, they are also a reminder of the silences within our sources. Stories of powerful biblical women demonstrate the important roles that women played in biblical society, and it is our responsibility in modernity, to learn from what our ancient sources teach us and to glean from midrashim, in order to attach meaning to much of the silence of our traditional sources.  In this way, we can appreciate the importance of reclaiming women’s history and understand that this process is integrally connected to rebuilding Jewish life today.

As we remember the story of the Exodus, beginning in this week’s parasha, Shemot, let our memory include these significant women, whose righteous acts determined our history.  At first glance, the obvious hero in the story of the Exodus is Moshe. If it takes a village to raise a child, however, who were the key people who created the “village” in which Moshe was born and nurtured, that enabled him to reach this exceptional status? In the beginning of this parasha, we are introduced to five righteous women whose actions ultimately played a decisive role in the life of Moshe and in the Exodus. These women include Miriam, Moshe’s sister; Yocheved, Moshe’s mother; Shifra and Puah, the Hebrew midwives; and Batya, Pharoah’s daughter. All of these women defied Pharaoh and his decree.

Let’s begin with Miriam.  According to the Midrash, after Pharaoh decreed that all male Israelite children were to be killed, all of the Israelite men, led by Amram, (father of Aaron, Miriam and soon Moshe) got up and divorced their wives, rather than give birth to sons. Miriam, while still a young girl, explained to her father that while Pharaoh had decreed to kill the baby boys, the Israelite men were denying both boys and girls their existence in the world. Miriam convinced her father that God would not abandon the Israelite nation, and so Amram remarried Yocheved, and the rest of the Israelites followed. Miriam ensured that new lives would be conceived, including Moshe.

Yocheved hid her baby Moshe for three months, until it was no longer safe.  She put him in a basket and placed it in the reeds by the bank of the Nile. (Exodus 2:2-4).  Through Yocheved, a nation of priests was born. And Miriam had the blessing of being the mother of the Royal dynasty, the “House of David.”

In Shifra and Puah, we see examples of two extremely faithful and righteous women who practiced midwifery during a time where the very existence of the Jewish people was in serious jeopardy.  In Pharaoh’s attempt to stop the Jewish People from proliferating, he commanded Shifra and Puah to kill all newborn Jewish babies. In Exodus 1:17, Pharaoh asked the midwives,

“Why have you done this thing, that you have enabled the boys to live?” They responded, “Because the Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women, for they are vigorous; when the midwife has not yet come to them, they have given birth.”

Pharoah, however, didn’t consider the midwives’ defiance or their faith in God. With strong faith in God, they acted in opposition to their political surroundings, fully knowing that disobeying Pharaoh meant death for them. But their fear of God exceeded their fear of the human king.  Pharaoh seemed to accept this explanation of the midwives and God rewarded them. In Exodus 1:20-21, we read,

“God bestowed goodness upon the midwives, and the people multiplied and became very strong. It was because the midwives feared God, that He made houses for them.”

Rashi explains that these “houses” refers to the families of the Kohanim, Leviim, and the family from which David descended.”

Rashi further explains that the midwives, Shifra and Puah, who had the moral courage to stand up to Pharaoh, were really Yocheved and Miriam.  All of these women played critical roles in saving Moshe’s life and thereby ensuring the continuation of Israel. The Talmud teaches that when Yocheved became pregnant with Moshe, Miriam prophesied that her mother would give birth to a son who would redeem Israel.  This is why Miriam “watched from a distance” to keep her eye on her baby brother as he lay in his basket by the banks of the Nile.  She did everything possible to ensure that her prophecy would come true.

Finally, there is Pharaoh’s daughter, Batya, smart and open-minded, who couldn’t accept her father’s decrees.  She was overcome with compassion when she saw Moshe in the basket, and knowing his fate, saved him. Pharaoh didn’t want to oppose his own daughter and so allowed her to raise Moshe as a part of his household.

If it weren’t for the righteous acts of these women, there would have been no Moshe to confront Pharaoh, and the nation of Israel would have died out in Egypt. The initiative and resourcefulness shown by these women with saving life is consistent with the larger picture of the role of women throughout the Bible. Throughout the Bible, women use their wit, charm and trickery for the ultimate purpose of Jewish survival. As we continue to uncover the stories of Jewish women throughout our history, we expand our Torah learning and allow today’s Jewish community to be a community of both women and men. God, the Redeemer of Israel, is the ultimate Hero in the story of the Exodus. God, however, acts only after human beings have acted decisively to change their world for the better. May these extraordinary models of leadership found in this week’s parasha, inspire each of us to find our own unique way to make a difference in this world.

This week’s D’var Torah was written by Ms. Amy Pincus.  She can be reached at apincus@grossschechter.org

Shabbat – Taking a Breath
Daniel R. Weiss
Middle School Judaic Studies Principal/K-8 Judaic Program Coordinator
dweiss@grossschechter.org

I don’t proclaim to be a Kabbalist.  Traditionally speaking, I’m not old enough (and certainly not wise enough) to be studying the hidden intricacies of Jewish mysticism.  That being said, I quite enjoy the spiritual side of Judaism.  I can look at the trees and find their beauty and importance in our world.  I can appreciate hidden meanings found through gematria (a system in which letters have numerical values; for instance, the letter Aleph = 1).

The major textual source in Kabbalah is the Zohar (which literally means, light or splendor).  The root can be equated to the words, Torah, Or, Moreh and Horim (Law, Light, Teacher and Parents).  While the Zohar is ascribed to first century Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, it was actually written in the Middle Ages.  Bar Yochai’s name is associated with the Zohar, however, because it was well know that he hid from Roman persecution in cave, along with his son.  It is believed that during this time Bar Yochai was able to delve deeply into the hidden secrets of the Torah. In so doing, he was able to develop his soul.

Shabbat is an opportunity for each of us to develop our souls.  In the words of Abraham Joshua Heschel in his book, The Sabbath:

Six days a week we wrestle with the world, wringing profit from the earth; on the Sabbath we especially care for the seed of eternity planted in the soul. The world has our hands, but our soul belongs to Someone Else. Six days a week we seek to dominate the world, on the seventh day we try to dominate the self.

Each day of the week connects to another day.  When each of the days is brought together, with equal importance and equal emphasis, we can truly appreciate Shabbat. (The following picture helps to explain.)

Our Shabbat observance begins with the Kabbalistic service, known as Kabbalat Shabbat.  The service begins with six Psalms, before L’Cha Dodi and one Psalm after.  Each Psalm represents a day of the week.  As we include each into our T’fillah it is appropriate to reflect on the day of the week to which it corresponds.  By the time we reach the seventh Psalm, we are ready to breathe in Shabbat. We enter into Shabbat with our souls uplifted.

Prior to reciting Kabbalat Shabbat, we begin Shabbat by lighting candles.  A candle has three parts, Ner, Ptilah, Shemen (flame, wick, oil).  Taking the first letter of each, we get the word Nefesh (soul).

Many people have a custom to light one candle for each soul in their family, for example a family with three children would light 5 candles (a similar explanation is given for why we light yarzheit candles when someone passes away).  At the conclusion of Kabbalat Shabbat (and the Maariv service) we recite the Kiddush, the blessing over wine (this ritual is done to sanctify holy days).

We end Shabbat in a similar fashion, with the Havdalah service.  During Havdalah, we light a candle (a braided candle is often used).  This candle must have more than one wick, as our blessing refers to “lights in the plural form.  The lighting of this candle is the first form of creating (an action that is forbidden during Shabbat).  The fire symbolizes the light of creation and the light of knowledge.

During Havdalah we also have a cup of wine (or grape juice), in order to sanctify the completion of Shabbat.

Unlike the start of Shabbat, we include in Havdalah the besamim (spices).  According to tradition, as Shabbat ends, our souls become saddened.  The smelling of the fragrant spices comforts our souls.  Kabbalists believe that only the sense of smell is attached to the soul.

Shabbat is our opportunity to refresh our souls.  As this Shabbat approaches, I hope that each of us can learn from the week that has passed, can be inspired by the other souls around us and can breathe new life into the coming week.

I look forward to experiencing a moving Havdalah service with our Pre-School families this week for Schechter Shabbat.

This week’s D’var Torah was written by Daniel R. Weiss.  He can be reached at dweiss@grossschechter.org.

Parshat Vayeshev: Individualized Love
Daniel R. Weiss
Middle School Judaic Studies Principal/K-8 Judaic Program coordinator
dweiss@grossschechter.org

On November 17th my grandfather, Marvin Snyder, passed away. This coming Shabbat marks the end of the shloshim period for him. I was blessed with the opportunity to spend his final hours by his bedside, along with my mother, aunts, uncles and grandmother. In looking at these past few weeks’ parshiyot, I have found a number of connections to the life of my grandfather, his qualities as the patriarch of our family, and how those qualities parallel the lives of the Avot (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob) and Joseph. Each patriarch was a dedicated parent and grandparent. Each had distinct relationships with each member of their family. So too did my grandfather.

The night before he passed away, I had the opportunity to give a D’var Torah at our monthly Poker and Parsha game. That week’s parsha was Chaye Sarah and opened with the death of Sarah and Abraham’s eulogy of her. I spoke that evening of the merits of my grandmother and the strength that she continues to show through her stoicism and devotion to my grandfather and our entire family. I spoke about the power of life and impact that one person could have on another. While I did not know that evening that my grandfather would pass less than 24 hours later, I had already begun to reflect on the impact he had on so many, starting with my grandmother.

I was blessed for 35 years to be able to spend time, learn and be inspired by him and I am struck by a number of interesting connections that can be found in this week’s parsha.

Parshat Vayeshev begins to tell the story of Joseph. The portion opens with the words, “These are the chronicles of Jacob: Joseph…” Why open this way? It does not make much sense. If the Torah intends to give the generation of Jacob, it should list his descendants starting with the oldest, Reuven. Why mention Joseph?

In the Midrash to the Book of Breisheet (Parsha פד), a number of similarities between Joseph and his father, Jacob are listed:
• Both are born to barren mothers, who each had two sons after difficult pregnancies (Rachel dies giving birth)
• Both were hated by their brother(s) who wanted to kill them • Both were shepherds
• Both were blessed by wealth (in Lavan’s house/in Egypt)
• Both lived outside of the promised land
• Both married women from outside of the promised land and raised their children outside of the promised land
• Both had dreams foretelling greatness (ladder and angel wrestling, Joseph’s dreams and dream interpretation)
• Both went to Egypt and both ended famines in Egypt
• Both died in Egypt, both were embalmed, both had their bones taken out of Egypt to be buried in the promised land

During Rabbi Joshua Caruso’s eulogy for my grandfather, he spoke of the relationship Jacob and Esau had with their father Isaac, focusing on his individualized love for each of them (though he seemingly had more in common with Esau).

My grandfather was blessed with a sixty-four year marriage that yielded four daughters, one son, three grandsons, six granddaughters, five great-grandsons and two great-granddaughters. Each shared qualities with him, similar to Jacob and Joseph. Each was blessed with individualized attention and love from my grandfather. Each thought that they had the most in common with him and were his favorite; each was right.

In the previous weeks’ parshiyot, we read of the birth of Jacob’s sons (and daughter) and his interactions with each. Each one of us has a different relationship with our parent than that of our siblings.

In Parshat Vayeshev, we read of Jacob’s love for Joseph, the firstborn son from his beloved Rachel. Jacob’s love of Joseph made the other brothers jealous. Each wanted to be the favorite. The Torah only mentions Jacob’s love for Joseph, but it does not say that he did not love his other children.

It wasn’t until these last few years that my grandfather freely expressed his feelings. I don’t remember many times growing up when my grandfather would tell me that he loved me (though he always showed his love). I will, however, remember the power in my grandfather’s voice, the strength that he mustered to tell his siblings on the telephone that he loved them and the way that he reacted listening to the voices of each of his grandchildren and several of his great-grandchildren in those final hours.

Two-and-a-half years ago, when my youngest son was born, my wife and I decided that he would be given the name Dotan Gal, named for my grandfather’s mother’s name, Batya (the name of Pharoah’s daughter) and my wife’s grandfather Moshe. When Batya pulled Moshe from the water, she caused a ripple, a wave (gal). We honored my grandfather with the opportunity to be the sandek at Dotan’s brit milah; the first time in his life that he had such an opportunity. The look of love in his eyes, the satisfaction he felt by holding his great grandson will forever live with me. To further connect to this week’s parsha and the end of Shloshim, it was in the city of Dotan that Joseph was told where to find his brothers who ultimately sold him to Egypt.

While Joseph’s relationship with his brothers was often contentious, it was their mutual love of their father that brought them close together. I had the opportunity to see the closeness of my mother and her siblings during those final days and hours. I was able to see the power of a patriarch (a word often used to describe my grandfather). I was able to see the power of individual relationships.

My children are lucky – each of them had an opportunity to form a special bond with their GGpa. And I was lucky to see the joy on my grandfather’s face and the love in his eyes during each interaction with them.

 Parashat Vayishlach
Amy Pincus
Torah and Tefillah Specialist, 6^th Grade Judaic Studies Teacher
apincus@grossschechter.org

 Parashat Vayishlach opens with Ya’akov preparing to face his brother Esav at Seir.  In an attempt to soften the upcoming confrontation, Ya’akov sends servants in advance, who return with the report that Esav is on his way to meet him with 400 men. With this news, Ya’akov decides to split his camp in two, so that if one group is attacked, the other will survive. Ya’akov then prays to God for safety and sends flocks of animals from his herd, to his brother as a gift, to appease him. Then he spends the night by himself by the River Yabbok. It is during this night, that Ya’akov wrestles with a mysterious “man” and his life is forever changed.

I have always been fascinated by this mysterious story of Ya’akov wrestling with the angel. Although this incident is part of his “history,” it is so significant that it has a life of its own.  When read as its own entity, we can briefly separate the two characters, Ya’akov and the angel, from their original historical context. In this way, we can allow ourselves, as Torah learners, to understand this distinct interaction as a timeless experience of human growth and learning that can be a source of inspiration and encouragement as we travel through life’s journey. We will first look contextually at this story and then move beyond.

The episode of Ya’akov’s wrestling is the climactic incident in his life. Ya’akov’s wandering comes to an end and this event begins to move him back toward his actual home, from where he had left many years before, and toward a new dimension of self-awareness.  Until this event, Ya’akov’s interactions are either clouded by arrogance or deceitfulness and are certainly far from the realm of honest and direct.  There is the first incident when Ya’akov appears to be innocently “inviting” his brother Esav to eat his stew, when in actuality, it is a manipulative attempt to steal his brother’s birthright. Then, there is the episode in which Ya’akov, with the aid of his mother, Rebecca, deceives his father, Isaac, in order to receive the blessing reserved for the firstborn child. At the conclusion of that story, Ya’akov, rather than confronting his brother directly about this event, runs away! Then later in the parasha, when Ya’akov is away from home, the face of his bride is hidden and as a result, he ends up marrying Leah, rather than his beloved Rachel.  In this last case, his Uncle Lavan has turned the tables, as it were, and plays a trick on Ya’akov himself, so that now Ya’akov is the target of deceit.

The encounter with the angel is pivotal for Ya’akov because it is when his history of indirection and deceit changes to that of honesty and directness. For the first time in his life, Ya’akov is confronted with a mysterious being who does not want Ya’akov to escape, while Ya’akov simultaneously refuses to disengage.  When the angel realizes that he is unable to defeat Ya’akov, he injures his thigh. (It is because of this injury, that Jews, to this day, do not eat the gid hanasheh, the sinew that travels down the thigh of an animal). Despite his injury, Ya’akov continues to fight and refuses to let the angel go, until he blesses him. It is through Ya’akov’s perseverance, at this very moment, that his true transformation takes place. Ya’akov is blessed with his name being changed from Ya’akov, “heel” or “deceiver” to Yisrael, understood to mean, “one who wrestles with God.”

We learn from the text that Ya’akov left his encounter with the angel, with a limp. Rather than viewing this limp as a result of defeat, however, it can be understood as a positive scar that enabled him to struggle and move beyond the place of deceit and arrogance, to a more mature place of introspection, remorse, and commitment to confront his own failings, in order to make himself a better, more understanding individual.

At this moment, Ya’akov is not only assured that he will become the Patriach of the Nation named Israel, but once the wrestling episode is over, Ya’akov/Israel is prepared to “face” his brother and end the years of contention.  Rabbinic insight teaches that this mysterious angelic character was perhaps a representative of Esav, as the angel is commonly referred to as “Esav’s (Guardian) Angel,” and that Ya’akov needed to confront the guilt he experienced throughout his life, in order to move forward. Only after Ya’akov’s introspection, his new self-awareness and commitment to move beyond his character flaws, is he able to recognize and appreciate the worthiness of his brother, Esav. Ya’akov, now Israel, is ultimately able to return to his brother to apologize and make amends.  When Ya’akov unites with Esav, he tells him that seeing his face is like seeing the face of God. (For additional information, see endnote[i]).

How can we, as individuals, learn from this beautiful example of Ya’akov/Israel in our own lives?  Can people really change or are we fundamentally who we are when we are born, incapable of moving beyond our seeming “limits?” Jewish tradition teaches that we are born with the capability to change and improve our character.  Through the study of Torah and through mitzvot, we strengthen our awareness of God and of ourselves and thereby are able to actively engage in this process of growth throughout our lives.  Every day we should challenge ourselves to look in the mirror and see ourselves for who we truly are, challenge ourselves to move beyond the status quo to grow and develop in order to reach our potential as individuals. Second, we should work to improve our relationships with others, and finally, we should strive to nurture our beliefs and ideals in order to positively affect the world in which we live. Just as Ya’akov was blessed with seeing the face of God when he reunited with Esav, may each of us appreciate the essence of what it means to be created in the image of God and be blessed with the ability to see the Godliness in others.

Parshat Veyetzei
Rabbi Hal Rudin-Luria
Rabbi of B’nai Jeshurun and parent of two Gross Schechter Day School students
rabbirudinluria@bnaijeshurun.org

The book of Genesis could well be subtitled “Journeys” for it contains a compilation of stories on the move, tales of displacement and new beginnings:  Adam and Eve’s exile from the Garden of Eden, Noah’s rudderless ride aboard the ark, Abraham’s Lekh Lekha journey from his homeland and Joseph’s demise to slave and prisoner followed by his rise to leader and his entire family moving to Egypt.  This week’s portion Vayetze presents Jacob’s journey as he flees his parents’ home escaping his brother’s vengeance for taking the first born blessing.  Jacob sets out from Be’er Sheva en route to his ancestral extended family in Haran.  After literally running for his life, Jacob falls asleep using a rock for a pillow in the vast desert.  He dreams of a “sulam” (a stairway or ladder) set in the ground with its top reaching to the sky, angels going up and down the ladder and God appears promising Jacob life-long protection and blessings.

“Jacob’s ladder” defines the beginning of a transformation of Jacob’s self.  He matures in an instant from the quiet, bookworm, homely boy named for holding onto his brother Esau’s heel at birth.  Jacob lived with his feet on the ground, following his mother’s advice until this moment.  The rabbis of the Midrash suggest that even when he fled, he grounded himself by stopping to study at the only yeshiva, Jewish study house and day school that existed in the world at the time.  Until this moment in our portion, Jacob only moved laterally or horizontally, side-stepping the problems in his life.  And then he saw the “sulam” and heard God’s promise.

The “sulam” (staircase or ladder) is a symbol of vertical movement, going up and down, contrary to the young Jacob who dug his heels firmly in the ground.   We might use a ladder for repairs, repainting, or to approach hard to reach places.  Stairs of course are used to ascend and descend, to reach new levels and heights.  The word “sulam” has the same Gematria (Hebrew letter value) as Mount “Sinai” where Moses would later climb to experience God’s revelation and receive the Ten Commandments.   For Jacob, this was a personal Mount Sinai moment.  He was in his darkest depths, lonely and scared.  The dream of the “sulam” assured him that he could ascend, lift off the ground, improve his life and receive God’s blessings.  It was this vision that began his growth to become the father of the twelve tribes of Israel.  What a lesson for us that with a strong foundation and grounding like our children receive at Gross Schechter and at home with our families, they are ready to climb the ladder of life (or at least ascend to the next grade).

The vision of angels going up and down the ladder have prompted many commentaries.  Shouldn’t they be coming down first from the Heavens and then going up?  Why is the order reversed?  A traditional reading is that we each have guardian angels that watch over us in a certain territory.  When we reach a geographic border (as Jacob was leaving Canaan/Israel approaching Haran) those angels must return to Heaven and the new regional angels come down to accompany us.   Rabbi Shmuel Bar Nachmani suggests that the angels going up and down the “sulam” represented a Jewish history lesson given to Jacob that different empires (Babylonian, Persian, Greek and Roman) would conquer the Jewish people, rise to greatness and then fall.  Each time, Jacob’s descendants (the Jewish people) would survive with God’s protection and blessing.   Jacob, who was terrified of an attack from his brother and traveling alone for the first time, was comforted and strengthened by the vision of protecting angels and God’s promise of protection.  His fears disappeared and he grew in that moment knowing that God’s blessings would be with him.  In the Adon Olam prayer which is recited every morning and at the end of Shabbat morning services, we end with the words “Adonai Lee v’lo Eera, God is with me and I shall not fear.”  Echoing the words of Jacob, our prayer reminds us of God’s promise at the “sulam.”

Life is filled with its ups and downs.   Parshat Vayetze reminds us to aim high and know that even though we may fall down a few rungs on the ladder of life, God and God’s angels (our friends and family perhaps) are there to catch us and give us a lift.  We too can have a Mount Sinai moment like Jacob at the “sulam.”  We should not simply climb the ladder to change a light bulb or clean the attic.  Jacob’s perseverance and growth into Israel, the father of the twelve tribes, inspires us to ascend the ladder of life, reach for all life’s opportunities and even push us to stretch to climb to new heights (and try new things) that seem unreachable.  And we should always remember the promise that God is with us every step of the way.

Shabbat Shalom

This week’s D’var Torah is written by, Rabbi Hal Rudin-Luria is Rabbi at B’nai Jeshurun in Pepper Pike, OH.  He is the father of two current Gross Schechter Day School students.  He can be reached at rabbirudinluria@bnaijeshurun.org