Sweet as honey: the blessings of the Torah

I participated in both Torah study and Saturday morning T'fillot this week, as is usually my custom. During each activity, I came across a different aspect of the text that spoke to me. Although not initially intended to read like a D'var Torah, that is what I ended up coming out with. These are not polished thoughts, but rather ideas I wanted to place in cyberspace in order to gain insight from my family or friends. Please let me know what you think!


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Last week’s Parsha, Ekev, was jam packed full of verses that make up important aspects of our liturgy. Two verses in particular stuck out to me. The first one comes from Deuteronomy 8:10, reading: “when you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the Eternal your God for the god land given to you” (translation from Plaut Torah commentary). This parek (verse) is used as the proof text for the blessing of food after eating. Moses, speaking about God’s command, has just told the Israelites what they will find in the land flowing with milk and honey. He is espousing the glories of the land and telling the people just what wonders they will find. However, he ends his comments with a warning: be mindful that what you have came from the hand of God and therefore וברכת(you shall bless) to God for it. The Hebrew translation is literally to bless, but the English translation often is to give thanks. The first question that occurs is whether blessing and thanking are the same thing? Can they occur simultaneously or is there a way to do one without the other. A blessing is often related to thanking in some way, but thanks are not always connected to blessing.

The land flowing with milk and honey (at least from Tel Gezer)

            Relating this prayer to the prayer traditionally said after the meal, Birkat HaMazon , we see that a rather long prayer was created to thank/bless God for the food we have been given. Yet all that was asked in this parek was to bless or thank God once one has eaten his or her fill. Why is such a lengthy prayer required to do so? Would not a simple, “Thanks, God” do perfectly satisfactorily? Or, as Jews, do we need a longer prayer to be aware of what we are saying and therefore fully present in our process of acknowledging all that God has given us?

            Honestly, I don’t have an answer. I know what the rabbi’s said, that any meal containing bread necessitates the full birkat hamazon and any eating activities containing more than a measure of an olive must commence with a shortened prayer over the food. However, the question still stands: what is the actual meaning as intentioned by the verse and how can we as Jews, and more globally as people, fulfill that request.

            Another verse that struck me is related very closely to the V’ahavtah (Deut 6:8), Deuteronomy 6:18. God tells the Israelites to …impress these My words upon your very heart: bind them as a sign on your hand and let them serve as a symbol on your forehead.” This is a claim I understand, but have a hard time with. These words are what we, as Jews, put in our Mezuzot, in our T’fillin that we lay on our forehead and hand during prayer. Instead of placing the “what” of Judaism, what we are praising and remembering at all times, we are constantly acknowledging the how. We are remembering how to do God’s commandments and HOW to live our lives.

            Wrestling with this idea, I posed it to a close friend. Instead of agreeing with me, he posited a different interpretation. Rather than the commandment calling to question all that he does, he saw it as a way to remind us to find what it is in Judaism that is important to remember. Instead of placing the Holiness code or the 10 commandments on a scroll, in a box on our foreheads and arms, we place the description of how to do these things. We are constantly reminded not of what we do, but that we need to do it, and in this multitude of ways. The “what” is for us to discover. As so much of Judaism is about asking questions, this too garners more questions than answers. The verse pushes us to constantly think about what Judaism means to us, about how we choose to live our lives and therefore what we want to represent. Being human, we are fallible and necessitate the constant reminder. We meditate upon the how, in order to discover the why behind our daily actions and beliefs.

            Prayer and Torah often leave me wanting more, frustrated yet at peace with my experience. Judaism is a little like that as well. Just when you think you have something figured out and are ready to fully commit to it, something comes up that stops you in your tracks. However, Judaism doesn’t leave you alone in figuring out the solution. As Pirke Avot I.6.II wisely points out: “set up a master for yourself. And get yourself a fellow disciple. And give everybody the benefit of the doubt.” Judaism wants you to put these tools in place so you can be successful and mind that meaning in life. The purpose is to learn and grow, never to fail. Therefore, I will take this as a lesson to seek out both teachers and fellow learners and continue to learn and grow, to question, ponder, and look with wonder upon this world!

The cycle of our days

Sunset from Kibbutz Gezer

ופרוס עלינו סכת שלומך

The Hebrew prayer Hashkiveinu, asks God to protect us throughout the night, that we may rise the next morning to life renewed, safe and full. The request, and the simple idea of asking God for something that isn’t even tangible, the guardianship of our soul, is an incredible one. We ask daily that good guard us, and in the morning pray again, thanking God for returning our soul to us, for allowing us to continue God’s work.

            The miracle of the morning is indeed incredible. Awesome, some might say. To me it surly is. Life is about each day, about the adventures we take and the people we will find. Who are we to take advantage of the time we have here on earth, to mess with the amazingness that is each one of us. Our unique qualities, combined with those around us, create daily blessings, ones we simply have to look for in order to appreciate.

            However, with each life, as with every thing in its time, the final moments arrive. Still, as Jews, we say Hashkiveinu in the evening and Modah Ani in the morning. Whatever opportunity is the last to be given us, we have thanked God for our souls, either for protecting them in advance or for restoring them to us. And in the end, there is thanks. Maybe not in that specific moment, but in some moment. We all matter. We all have souls, Nishamot, worth saving and protecting. We all need to remember to shelter ourselves, to protect ourselves, to nurture ourselves.

            Judaism teaches that if you save a man, it is as if you have saved an entire world. In this case, if you save yourself, you will save whatever might be coming next. Consider it. You too are important. You too are worth saving. Maybe prayer is not the way you need to do it. Maybe words and God are not your modus operendi. But whatever your way of connecting with the world, recognize, even for a moment, the power of you.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?” –Marianne Williamson

Life, Love and In between!

"That's not a good way to die - before you've told the end of your story."

From the Mount of Olives

             Everyone has a story to tell, a unique tale that weaves the intimate details of their lives into a single narrative, capturing who they are, from where they come and to where they will go. Each time we sit down to write such a narrative, it seems overwhelming, a task too daunting to allow completion. However, if we consider life as a series of vignettes, the story all of a sudden takes on a less terrifying component. Instead, it becomes a story, easy enough to write in the span of an afternoon.

If we are not careful, if for some reason we choose not to continue documenting our time and efforts, that story can be lost, or at least not transmitted by our pen. Instead it may become part of proto history, spread by someone else's voice instead of our own.

Always consider what you want your story to be. Never forget that your story will end. Live a life filled with love, compassion, choice, freedom, light. Find what makes you glow.

Yesterday I participated in the Jerusalem Pride Parade. I wasn't sure I wanted to at first, seeing that I was tired from our biblical history tiyul. However, I decided that going to the parade was way more important than my participation in a wine festival. (Both events were on Tu B'Av, the Jewish Day of Love). The experience of seeing so many people out, happy, and able to express themselves was utterly fantastic. These displays of affection were beautiful, acceptable, even wanted, and demonstrated how important it is for communities to be open, accepting and equal to all members. Although I did not buy a flag, I willingly waved one throughout the parade and am proud to have stood with so many people. Just as the religious of Jerusalem have a right to their voice and their space, so too does every other person deserve their voice to be not only heard, but actually listened to. Yesterday, I learned the importance of both a single voice and a crowd. Next year, in Jerusalem, may there be equality. This year, in Jerusalem, may there be equality and may everyone be heard.

Let everyone write their life story as truthfully as possible. How will you write yours? What will your story demonstrate?