Bereshit 6:9-11:32
By Charles A. Kroloff, Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
This
is Noah's chronicle. Noah was a righteous man; in his generation, he
was above reproach: Noah walked with God. - Genesis 6:9
Do you believe in second chances? According to the Torah, God does.
After
the earth became corrupt and God determined "to wipe them (all flesh)
off the earth" (Genesis 6:13), God gave Noah a heads up and told him to
become maritime savvy and build an ark so that his family and the
animals could start over.
After the flood, God established a covenant with the earth and every living creature (9:13-17).
It
appeared, at least for the moment, the worst was over. The Torah lists
the progeny of Noah who constitute a genealogical listing of the nations
that were known to the Israelites at that time. Our parashah emphasizes
that the nations were unified with one language.
But then things
started to fall apart. The settlers of Shinar, an area of Babylonia
that is northern Iraq today, undertook a building project.
They
declared "Come, let us build a city with a tower that reaches the sky
(v'rosho vashamayim)" (11:4). The tower may have resembled the ziggurats
the Mesopotamians erected in their flood plains, towers that mimicked
natural mountains.
Towers, in and of themselves, are not
necessarily bad. But these were not simply towers built for some
utilitarian or aesthetic purpose. These towers were motivated by an
overweening, giant-size ambition. Their goal, declared the builders, was
to "make a name for ourselves and not be scattered over all the earth!"
(11:4). The midrash suggests that the builders intended nothing less
than to ascend to heaven, set up idols as high as they could reach, and
wage war with God.
They engaged in labor practices that would
make Idi Amin squirm. And how did they treat the workers who built the
tower? The midrash suggests that if a brick fell the builders were
distraught. But if a human being fell, they hardly noticed. They were so
focused on building that they would not allow a pregnant woman who was
making bricks to stop in order to give birth. When the newborn arrived,
they would place the baby in a sheet and tie it around her body while
she continued to labor at her task (Louis Ginzburg, The Legends of the
Jews, Louis Ginzburg, [Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of
America, 1954, Vol. 1, p. 179).
Continue reading.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
Bereishit
Genesis 1:1-6:8
What’s So Special about Being Human?
BY: CHARLES A. KROLOFF, Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
Have you ever asked your rabbi a question about the Bible? There are four or five questions that I am asked over and over again. One of the most frequently asked is about this week's parashah, B'reishit, the first portion of the first Book of Torah: "Why should we pay any attention to the biblical story of Creation? After all, isn't it full of unscientific, antiquated myths that we have outgrown?"
It's a fair question. After all, if you embrace the concept of evolution, you can hardly justify creation in seven days. Now there are some people who attempt to "fit" the biblical narrative into a scientific model by suggesting that "one day" corresponds to millennia and that each day more or less mirrors evolution. Good try, but that explanation ultimately falls short, leaving the Creation story to resemble third-rate science fiction.
Of course, you could go literal, reading Genesis as a "creationist" would, relegating evolution to one of many competing theories. For most of us, this is not a very satisfying way to go.
So we need to shift direction and think in different terms. I'm convinced that there are profound truths embedded in the story, but they are spiritual truths, not scientific ones. They address the deepest questions that a human being can ask, questions that flow not from the microscope, but from the spirit, questions that respond not to scientific measurement, but to the soul that searches.
Let's begin with one of those questions: What's so special about being human?
According to the Creation story, God created us b'tzelem Elohim, "in [the divine] image." (Genesis 1:27). The singer of Psalms probably had this in mind when he or she wrote that God made us "a little less than divine" (Psalms 8.6). It is a blasphemous thing to act like we are God. But it is an awesome thing to believe that we can fulfill ideals that we associate with God: to do justly, love mercy, lift up the fallen, and heal the sick. It's like saying that we detect within ourselves some of the holiness that we associate with God.
Continue reading.
What’s So Special about Being Human?
BY: CHARLES A. KROLOFF, Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
Have you ever asked your rabbi a question about the Bible? There are four or five questions that I am asked over and over again. One of the most frequently asked is about this week's parashah, B'reishit, the first portion of the first Book of Torah: "Why should we pay any attention to the biblical story of Creation? After all, isn't it full of unscientific, antiquated myths that we have outgrown?"
It's a fair question. After all, if you embrace the concept of evolution, you can hardly justify creation in seven days. Now there are some people who attempt to "fit" the biblical narrative into a scientific model by suggesting that "one day" corresponds to millennia and that each day more or less mirrors evolution. Good try, but that explanation ultimately falls short, leaving the Creation story to resemble third-rate science fiction.
Of course, you could go literal, reading Genesis as a "creationist" would, relegating evolution to one of many competing theories. For most of us, this is not a very satisfying way to go.
So we need to shift direction and think in different terms. I'm convinced that there are profound truths embedded in the story, but they are spiritual truths, not scientific ones. They address the deepest questions that a human being can ask, questions that flow not from the microscope, but from the spirit, questions that respond not to scientific measurement, but to the soul that searches.
Let's begin with one of those questions: What's so special about being human?
According to the Creation story, God created us b'tzelem Elohim, "in [the divine] image." (Genesis 1:27). The singer of Psalms probably had this in mind when he or she wrote that God made us "a little less than divine" (Psalms 8.6). It is a blasphemous thing to act like we are God. But it is an awesome thing to believe that we can fulfill ideals that we associate with God: to do justly, love mercy, lift up the fallen, and heal the sick. It's like saying that we detect within ourselves some of the holiness that we associate with God.
Continue reading.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Chol HaMo-eid Sukkot Intermediate Days of Sukkot
Exodus 33:12–34:26
D'var Torah By: Roberta Louis Goodman, Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
Monday, September 9, 2013
Voices of Torah / Yom HaKippurim
Yom Kippur, Holidays Deuteronomy 29:9–14, 30:11–20 (Morning) and Leviticus 19:1-4, 9-18, 32-37 (Afternoon)
D'var Torah By: Lawrence Kushner, Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
Decades ago, Rabbi Jack Reimer explained Yom Kippur for me this way. It's not saying: I'm sorry I was bad and I won't do it again. That's only a Sunday school, superficial expression of something much deeper and spiritually far more important.
Look at it this way, he suggested: For twenty-four hours you wear white, you don't eat, you don't drink, you don't sleep (much), you don't have sex, and (less well-known) you don't perfume, anoint, or deodorize yourself either. Reimer says, just look around the room on Yom Kippur afternoon, say around four o'clock, at a bunch of Jews who have been observing the above laws and customs and you realize you're looking at a room full of people who are dressed up like their own corpses!
They're rehearsing their own deaths! Atonement, shmatonment! Yom Kippur is a day of death-the death of the old year, the death of the old sins, and the death of the old ego. But it is not morbid. Indeed, it is predicated on the hope (and a prayer) that a new year and, above all, a new ego will be born the exact moment that final t'kiah g'dolah shofar blast is sounded. It is a day of death- so that there can be new life. You want that a better and purified you should emerge from the encrusted shell that a year of sinful acting has made you ? There's only one way: The old you has to go! Your "something"must become "Nothing."
The Chasidic master Rabbi Yehiel Michal of Zlochov teaches the same lesson. He cites a sermon by his master, Rabbi Dov Baer of Mezhirech, first taught in 1777 (Yosher Divrei Emet , Meshullam Feibush of Zabrazh [Jerusalem, 1974], p. 14); a translation of the complete text appears in my The Way into Jewish Mystical Tradition [Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights Publishing, 2000], pp. 18-20).
In order to appreciate the nuance and the tongue-in-cheek humor of this homily, we must revisit and redefine two very common Hebrew words. The first word, yesh, means "somethingness" or simply "isness," but according to the kabbalists, it refers to virtually all reality. Yesh is anything (not just material) that has a beginning, an end, a location, a border, geographic coordinates, a definition. It is every thing (and every non-thing) in the world. Yesh is not bad. Indeed, it's only problematic if you think that's all there is. That brings us to the second word, ayin.
Continue reading.
D'var Torah By: Lawrence Kushner, Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
Decades ago, Rabbi Jack Reimer explained Yom Kippur for me this way. It's not saying: I'm sorry I was bad and I won't do it again. That's only a Sunday school, superficial expression of something much deeper and spiritually far more important.
Look at it this way, he suggested: For twenty-four hours you wear white, you don't eat, you don't drink, you don't sleep (much), you don't have sex, and (less well-known) you don't perfume, anoint, or deodorize yourself either. Reimer says, just look around the room on Yom Kippur afternoon, say around four o'clock, at a bunch of Jews who have been observing the above laws and customs and you realize you're looking at a room full of people who are dressed up like their own corpses!
They're rehearsing their own deaths! Atonement, shmatonment! Yom Kippur is a day of death-the death of the old year, the death of the old sins, and the death of the old ego. But it is not morbid. Indeed, it is predicated on the hope (and a prayer) that a new year and, above all, a new ego will be born the exact moment that final t'kiah g'dolah shofar blast is sounded. It is a day of death- so that there can be new life. You want that a better and purified you should emerge from the encrusted shell that a year of sinful acting has made you ? There's only one way: The old you has to go! Your "something"must become "Nothing."
The Chasidic master Rabbi Yehiel Michal of Zlochov teaches the same lesson. He cites a sermon by his master, Rabbi Dov Baer of Mezhirech, first taught in 1777 (Yosher Divrei Emet , Meshullam Feibush of Zabrazh [Jerusalem, 1974], p. 14); a translation of the complete text appears in my The Way into Jewish Mystical Tradition [Woodstock, VT: Jewish Lights Publishing, 2000], pp. 18-20).
In order to appreciate the nuance and the tongue-in-cheek humor of this homily, we must revisit and redefine two very common Hebrew words. The first word, yesh, means "somethingness" or simply "isness," but according to the kabbalists, it refers to virtually all reality. Yesh is anything (not just material) that has a beginning, an end, a location, a border, geographic coordinates, a definition. It is every thing (and every non-thing) in the world. Yesh is not bad. Indeed, it's only problematic if you think that's all there is. That brings us to the second word, ayin.
Continue reading.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Ha'azinu
Deuteronomy 32:1-32:52
Well, Moses has come a long way since then! Some forty years later, Moses delivers the longest monologue in all of Jewish history-the Book of D'varim, the "Book of Words." He has certainly found his tongue, found his voice. The self-doubting man who once said, "I have never been a man of words," now launches the Book of D'varim, the Book of Words and it seems he can't stop talking. According to our Sages, the day Moses performs this prophetic poem of Haazinu is the day of his death (Targum Yonatan on Song of Songs 1:1; Tanchuma,B'shalach 12). It is his last attempt to move them with words, to shape them into the people they are becoming.
"Give ear, O heavens, let me speak;
Let the earth hear the words I utter!
May my discourse come down as the rain,
My speech distill as the dew,
Like showers on young growth,
Like droplets on the grass.
For the name of the Eternal I proclaim;
Give glory to our God!" (Deuteronomy 32:1-3)
Continue reading.
By Yael Splansky, Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
A World of Words
Back at the Burning Bush, God commands Moses to return to Egypt, to go before Pharaoh and deliver God's message: "Let us go...to sacrifice to the Eternal our God" (Exodus 3:18). Moses tries to dodge the command, saying: "Please, O my lord, I have never been a man of words (Lo ish d'varim anochi), either in times past or now that You have spoken to Your servant: I am slow of speech (k'vad peh), and slow of tongue (u'ch'vad lashon)" (Exodus 4:10).Well, Moses has come a long way since then! Some forty years later, Moses delivers the longest monologue in all of Jewish history-the Book of D'varim, the "Book of Words." He has certainly found his tongue, found his voice. The self-doubting man who once said, "I have never been a man of words," now launches the Book of D'varim, the Book of Words and it seems he can't stop talking. According to our Sages, the day Moses performs this prophetic poem of Haazinu is the day of his death (Targum Yonatan on Song of Songs 1:1; Tanchuma,B'shalach 12). It is his last attempt to move them with words, to shape them into the people they are becoming.
"Give ear, O heavens, let me speak;
Let the earth hear the words I utter!
May my discourse come down as the rain,
My speech distill as the dew,
Like showers on young growth,
Like droplets on the grass.
For the name of the Eternal I proclaim;
Give glory to our God!" (Deuteronomy 32:1-3)
Continue reading.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Selichot; Nitzavim-VaYelech
Deuteronomy 29:9–31:30
This week brings a preview of another sort as well. Our scheduled Torah portion, Parashat Nitzavim/Vayeilech, offers a bit of textual foreshadowing: its words contain the Torah reading we will hear in our synagogues on Yom Kippur morning. The words of the portion are already familiar to many of us:
"You stand this day, all of you, before the Eternal your God-you tribal heads, you elders, and you officials, all the men of Israel, you children, you women, even the stranger within your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer-to enter into the covenant of the Eternal your God, which the Eternal your God is concluding with you this day . . . not with you alone, but both with those who are standing here with us this day before the Eternal our God and with those who are not with us here this day." (Deuteronomy 29:9-14)
When we read these words, we draw comfort from their inclusiveness and from the charitable impulse of the biblical text. God's covenant belongs not merely to the wise or the influential, Deuteronomy asserts, but to every member of our community regardless of age, gender, or social station; its expansiveness extends even to include the countless generations yet to come. This instinct toward outreach is a tonic for Jews who have felt excluded or overlooked by their religious community. The Torah portion reminds all of us: the covenant includes you, too. What we frequently overlook, however, is that our willingness to extend the boundaries of covenant for the sake of inclusion and universalism necessarily entails demands as well as social rewards.
Continue reading.
Standing Together, Standing Apart
D'VAR TORAH BY: OREN J. HAYON, Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
The Hebrew month of Elul invites us into a period of preparatory self-reflection and contemplation, calling us to center our thoughts on our own t'shuvah. Elul culminates in the observance of S'lichot, a time of penitential prayer and meditation when we ready ourselves for the spiritual labor of the Days of Awe. This observance (which will occur on this Shabbat) guides us toward an examination of our inner selves and, in turn, provides a foretaste of the High Holy Days themselves.This week brings a preview of another sort as well. Our scheduled Torah portion, Parashat Nitzavim/Vayeilech, offers a bit of textual foreshadowing: its words contain the Torah reading we will hear in our synagogues on Yom Kippur morning. The words of the portion are already familiar to many of us:
"You stand this day, all of you, before the Eternal your God-you tribal heads, you elders, and you officials, all the men of Israel, you children, you women, even the stranger within your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer-to enter into the covenant of the Eternal your God, which the Eternal your God is concluding with you this day . . . not with you alone, but both with those who are standing here with us this day before the Eternal our God and with those who are not with us here this day." (Deuteronomy 29:9-14)
When we read these words, we draw comfort from their inclusiveness and from the charitable impulse of the biblical text. God's covenant belongs not merely to the wise or the influential, Deuteronomy asserts, but to every member of our community regardless of age, gender, or social station; its expansiveness extends even to include the countless generations yet to come. This instinct toward outreach is a tonic for Jews who have felt excluded or overlooked by their religious community. The Torah portion reminds all of us: the covenant includes you, too. What we frequently overlook, however, is that our willingness to extend the boundaries of covenant for the sake of inclusion and universalism necessarily entails demands as well as social rewards.
Continue reading.
Monday, August 19, 2013
KI TAVO
DEUTERONOMY 26:1–29:8
D'var Torah By: Nancy H. Wiener Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
This week's Torah portion presents a seemingly endless litany of blessings and curses. These blessings and curses seem to follow a simple equation: follow God's commands and you will receive blessing; ignore or transgress them and you will receive curses. However, a more nuanced message is also embedded in the words of the parashah. Curses arise "because you would not serve the Eternal your God in joy and gladness over the abundance of everything . . ." (Deuteronomy 28:47).
Everything is here not only in small quantities, but also in abundance. Do we see and appreciate the abundance? Does it evoke in us a sense of joy, a desire to do what we can to perpetuate it or, in the language of our forebears, to serve the Source of it? The biblical writers were clear that the world is a mixture of good and bad, blessing and curse. In fact, for most of us, consistent with the layout of this week's parashah, it seems curses, or potential curses, far outnumber blessings. Yet, the text challenges us to see the links between our attitudes and behaviors, and repercussions for ourselves and others.
As some of you know, the word for "blessing" (b'rachah) and the word for "knee" (berech) share the same Hebrew root ( bet-reish-chaf). When we are aware of the blessings of this world, we are humbled-metaphorically, brought to our knees. And in humility, we offer our thanks and praise.
A few summers ago, my partner and I sang our way through Glacier National Park in Montana. Surrounded by mountain peaks, a stream running alongside, wild flowers in bloom, birds winging overhead, animals large and small, we found that "Wow! Did you see that!" didn't suffice. At times, silence seemed insufficient as well. And so, overflowing with awe and gratitude, we sang. Not the songs we heard on the radio-no! We sang words from Kabbalat Shabbat that focus on the wonders of creation. They seemed to capture our overwhelming feelings: "How great are your works, God, how profound your design," Mah gadlu maasecha, Adonai, m'od amku machsh'votecha (Psalm 92:6). "Let us sing a song of Hallelujah, a song praising God," Hava nashirah shir hal'luyah (Kabbalat Shabbat).
Continue reading.
D'var Torah By: Nancy H. Wiener Reprinted from ReformJudaism.org
To Delight in Life
This week's Torah portion presents a seemingly endless litany of blessings and curses. These blessings and curses seem to follow a simple equation: follow God's commands and you will receive blessing; ignore or transgress them and you will receive curses. However, a more nuanced message is also embedded in the words of the parashah. Curses arise "because you would not serve the Eternal your God in joy and gladness over the abundance of everything . . ." (Deuteronomy 28:47).
Everything is here not only in small quantities, but also in abundance. Do we see and appreciate the abundance? Does it evoke in us a sense of joy, a desire to do what we can to perpetuate it or, in the language of our forebears, to serve the Source of it? The biblical writers were clear that the world is a mixture of good and bad, blessing and curse. In fact, for most of us, consistent with the layout of this week's parashah, it seems curses, or potential curses, far outnumber blessings. Yet, the text challenges us to see the links between our attitudes and behaviors, and repercussions for ourselves and others.
As some of you know, the word for "blessing" (b'rachah) and the word for "knee" (berech) share the same Hebrew root ( bet-reish-chaf). When we are aware of the blessings of this world, we are humbled-metaphorically, brought to our knees. And in humility, we offer our thanks and praise.
A few summers ago, my partner and I sang our way through Glacier National Park in Montana. Surrounded by mountain peaks, a stream running alongside, wild flowers in bloom, birds winging overhead, animals large and small, we found that "Wow! Did you see that!" didn't suffice. At times, silence seemed insufficient as well. And so, overflowing with awe and gratitude, we sang. Not the songs we heard on the radio-no! We sang words from Kabbalat Shabbat that focus on the wonders of creation. They seemed to capture our overwhelming feelings: "How great are your works, God, how profound your design," Mah gadlu maasecha, Adonai, m'od amku machsh'votecha (Psalm 92:6). "Let us sing a song of Hallelujah, a song praising God," Hava nashirah shir hal'luyah (Kabbalat Shabbat).
Continue reading.
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To Everything There Is a Season: Turn, Turn, Turn to Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) this Sukkot