God's presence: Miketz

 As I read this week’s parsha, Parshat Miketz, the songs from the musical, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, flash through my mind. Constant reminders of song and dance numbers dance across an imagined stage and I cannot take the parsha seriously. Rather, I recognize that I am reading a segment of a longer saga, set in the time of Egypt, but with serious ramifications when considered in today’s language and backdrop.

Miketz begins with Pharoh in a dream, unsure of the meaning (regardless of the two years passage between this and the last parsha). Pharoh dreams in multiples of seven, first seven big and hearty things, followed close behind by seven slim and poor crops. The seven less fortunate consume the seven better endowed. The only reason Joseph is brought upon the stage is because the chief cupbearer (translation unclear) finally remembers Joseph and his dream interpretation in the prison. Therefore, once mentioned, Joseph is quickly released from his prison cell and brought before Pharoh. Instead of immediately interpreting the dream and knowing the meaning (as Pharoh implies will be Joseph’s good fortune), Joseph reminds Pharoh of God’s presence, saying in Genesis 41:16 biladai, eloheim ya’aneh et shalom paroh, not I! God will answer (see to) Pharoh’s welfare.

We are quickly reminded that God does not stray far from Joseph’s side, despite Joseph’s stint of imprisonment. Considering this, I am reminded of the many times throughout my life I have doubted God’s presence. Constantly questioning and unsure that I am lifted up by a supportive being, I walk along dispirited and alone. Yet, time and time again, something occurs to remind me of God’s presence. However here, Joseph does not even mention God in relation to himself. Rather, he reminds Pharoh that God will make God’s presence known in how God assists this high-ranking man.

After the presence of God comes up time and again in the previous installment of this story, it isn’t surprising that God comes up rather quickly into the parsha. What does strike as interesting is the lack of continuity between the characters. The cup bearer forgets to mention Joseph when re-installed in his former post and Joseph remains lonely in jail. Yet, the moment dreams are mentioned, when his memory is jogged (despite his forgetfulness right after being released), the cupbearer remembers Joseph. Here, Joseph begins his second upward climb (the first being in Potiphar’s house).

God’s presence is always an interesting topic to broach. Who believes in God and what form does that belief take? How many of us truly can say that God has an impact in our lives or that we walk with God? Who really believes enough to put their trust in God, and does that trust remove the necessity for personal onus?

These questions are ones that will plague us our whole lives, if we are human and desire to continue encountering God. Unfortunately, there may never be concrete answers or direction. But that is the beauty of Judaism. Each person is entitled and able to have his or her own unique relationship with God. The personal relationship helps shape the person’s connection to Judaism and often impacts how they interact with it.

However, we cannot turn our back’s on God or Judaism when the going gets tough or God seems conspicuously absent. Rather, we must remember that God remains there, although unseen and silent. God is still present. We may not know when God will show God’s presence or even the significance the lack of God may have. Maybe we need to make some necessary changes in our behavior before God demonstrates God’s hand again. Maybe we have hit a place where a friend or family member is sick and our belief has been stumped by sickness and loss. Maybe we simply have traveled down a road that leads us in a wrong direction and we must rely on our own self-awareness to traverse the path back to a more positive way.

Regardless of the reason God is not present or just not visible, God is still present. We need simply to remind ourselves, as Joseph reminds Pharoh, that God is still with us, that God will look after us. Whatever way we personally envisage God and God’s impact and connection in our lives, God is still present and we must remain open to accepting whichever way God does eventually appear.

The question becomes, so what? If a person doesn’t believe in God and all of a sudden God comes into the conversation, that person becomes oddly silent. There is an impassable chasm which has opened up and that person is stuck on the other side. That is the person for whom Joseph makes his presence felt. Joseph is our reminder that even for people who may not believe or understand God, God is still there. We must simply be the conduit through which God speaks and assists.

Brotherly...love

Full disclosure, it is just about an hour before Shabbat is to begin and I'm not sure I have quite enough time to get all my thoughts down in the best sequential order. As a road map (somewhere along the line I learned what it was a good idea to lead the reader and inform them of what will be discussed in a piece of writing). Therefore, dear reader, know that I plan to discuss the so called coat of many colors (כתונת הפסים) as well as genesis 37:29-30, right after Joseph is sold to Midianites passing into Egypt, where Reuven's actions are suspect with regard to the preceding few verses. Oh yeah, and the entire chapter that's dedicated to Judah and his unfortunate fornication with random women (multiple women even!).

The Joseph story is probably one of the most well known stories of my childhood. I knew of the deceit and despair, of Joseph's brothers throwing him in a pit and selling him into slavery. Joseph works for Potiphar, who's wife tries to trick Joseph into sleeping with here and gets him sent to jail for not doing so by framing him. And Joseph interprets two dreams while in prison (here is where this week's parsha concludes). Yet, we don't hear about Judah and Tamar, his daughter in law. Only when we are older. But even then, I learned about it for the first time in rabbinical school. The knowledge that there are side stories woven within the Joseph story was a strange awakening. It forced me to acknowledge that many of the stories I know from my youth were not told to me in completion. Rather. I must now retrace my steps and fill in those gaps as a wiser young adult!)

Translations differ, but most translations call Joseph's coat a coat of many colors or an ornamented garment (JPS). Yet, if one takes a close look at the Hebrew, it is actually a stripped tunic. The idea that the stripes are what bring the coat it's color is a reasonable one, but simply the fact that this garment is not very specifically described is interesting. Why were the brothers so extraordinarily jealous of this particular gift over any other? Or did the coat simply give them an excuse to cause mischief to brew in Joseph's life.

Reuben seems to be a pacifist, although he angers his father enough to have Israel give the birthright belonging to the first son to his next to last, to Joseph. This assumption comes from his decision to protect Joseph and not outright kill him. Rather, Reuben suggests at the brothers throw Joseph in a pit and leave him there to die. At this point. Reuben is oddly quiet and we do not hear from him again until Berashit 37:29, when Reuben appears to look into the pit and, finding his brother gone, rents his clothes. Although the other brothers know that they have sold their brother into slavery, they allow Reuben to think he is gone. As the compassionate one among the brothers, we learn that no matter what evil plan we may wish to concoct, our actions always have an impact on those around us. Therefore, we must consciously not bring evil into the world. Rather, we must think before we act and try to lessen the negative impact we can have.

Although not the most sequential, and certainly not enough material for a sermon (rather enough for three or four), these are just a few of my thoughts on this week's parsha. Shabbat shalom

The love of my life!

I spend my days with kids who have accidents although they are potty trained, who lash out in frustration because they can't express themselves and don't know how to demonstrate what is happening, who simply can't respond and sit there rocking back and forth. If I think about the daily struggle of my job, I would be constantly depressed and upset. I would wonder at the unfairness of this world and question the very existence of God: how could God do this to a parents, to a child? Yet, I look into the eyes of the kid who accidentally wet himself and see a spark so deep it lifts me from my very soul. He spits out laughter and words along with drool, excited to spend a few minutes alone with me. Yet a hearty laugh and a deep squeeze of my middle, accompanied by a wet kiss remind me that this kid does know how to express himself and that his love is so deep. Yet when I appear in her line of site, this seemingly blank girl turns on her smile and we share a private laugh.

The daily grind is replaced by love and caring, but intimacy and understanding. Everyday is a challenge and forces me to reconsider how exactly I look at the world. I constantly revisit my expectations for the students always exceed them. They don't want to let me down and I can't stand the thought of disappointing them. They are way too important. So I walk slowly beside the excruciatingly slow steps of a kid walking with assistance, but walking nonetheless. So I allow myself to be bruised and pinched because it does no good to be afraid. So I hold my head high and try to understand the convoluted babble emitting from their mouths.

I love. Plain and simple, I get more than I give at this wonderful job. I am overjoyed that I found Beit Issie Shapira and that I get to watch the growth that comes each day. My frustration is replaced by smiles and laughter as a simple request for a hug or high five or a jump, phone, or iPad emit from a child. No exaggeration, I love my job and everything it entails, even with the exhaustion and pain and frustration and loneliness. Because no matter what, I have one of the best jobs in the world: I get to watch a smile form from the inside out and sometimes even be the source of it. I get to witness love expressed and pain consoled. I get to learn and teach and grow on a daily basis. I am me, everyday!

Reconciliation

This past Sunday, the entire school went to see a musical called פרח נתתי לנורית (I gave a flower to Nurit). Although based on a children's book of the same title, the musical takes a dozen or so children's songs and compiles them into a story of what it means to be strong and believe in yourself. Truthfully, I was so excited to be back in a theater that anything would have been enjoyable to me, although this show touched my very heart. Many of the offhand comments the actors made to their fellow players were exactly the kinds of things we explicitly tell our students not to do. Yet, although I cringed inwardly, I watched to see how they would rectify the wrongs played out on the stage. And fix them they did. The last song of the play, entitled מתפייסה,  means something along the linesמתפייסה of to make right or to make nice/good. That as well as the word בורגוס were unfamiliar to me. Regardless, I understood immediately that the point of. Song is that we must make right the wrongs we do in order to demonstrate how we want others to treat us. As I've been told over and over, if something is worth doing, it's worth doing right. The main character Danny spends the play learning to believe in himself and in the end even shows how magnanimous he is by inviting all three other kids to play with him (even after they made fun of and harassed him for so long).

Oddly enough, this relates directly to the relationship between Jacob and Esau. A few weeks ago we read about the birthright which Jacob was promised by  Esau when Esau simply desired a bowl of soup.  Now, many years later, Jacob wants to make right with his brother. After sending the message that he wants to meet, Esau returns saying he is coming with 400 men (interesting-either his family is rather large, or he believes in strength in numbers). Jacob splits his family into two camps on either side of the river Jabbuk, (a tributary of the mighty Jordan) and prepared the gifts he would present to his brother.

If you will permit me, a small detour into the parsha offers an interesting glimpse into the dexterity with which these stories are crafted. Genesis 32:25 has Jacob wrestling with a creature. As the day is breaking, the creature realizes he is being bested so touches and strains Jacob's thigh (which is why we don't eat thigh meat now). The creature then requests release, but Jacob does not relent. Instead, he demands a blessing in exchange. The name Israel is bestowed upon Jacob, meaning he who will struggle with God (the verb in Biblical Hebrew, ש.ר.ה. only appears twice in the whole bible, but definitely seems to have an association with struggle and perseverance. An interesting thing to look into further). The future connotation of the word suggests that Jacob and then the people who share his name will be blessed/plagued with struggles with God, but will persevere. Because not only is the word about struggle, but about perseverance. Which is very apt to the initial play, as the whole play is about Danny struggling with himself, with his self-esteem and courage. Three tasks are placed before him Dan three times he succeeds. Each task provides an opportunity to learn, and each one Danny finds a want to excel.

Now, as we turn back to the reunion of the estranged brothers, we see the direct correlation to התפייסות, which, As it turns out, when input into a translation machine, means reconciliation. How fitting. Esau runs to meet Jacob and falls on his throat (another example of possible mistranslation due to convoluted pronoun use) and kisses him. The reunion is complete and the brothers are connected.

Regardless, the brothers do have their reconciliation, their התפייסות. Although obviously difficult for each party, they find the inner strength to appear before the other and beg forgiveness. This lesson of putting aside one's pride and simply apologizing, or extending the hand of welcome is imperative for us to teach our children. For, if our children learn this lesson, plain and simple, they will be able to carry it into their lives and therefore be able to bring greater humanity to all those they encounter. 

Parshat v'etzei

Here are a few of my musings from this past week's Torah portion. It is abbreviated simply for lack of ample time attached to a typing device. More this week!

28:10 says that Jacob went out from beer sheva to heron. Yet, we know that if he went to heron he left Beersheva. So why is this important? Rashi posits that this is because he was a righteous man and the fact that he was leaving would make an impact on the place. What's also interesting is that Abraham's leaving of Beersheva is not mentioned with any fanfare, demonstrating that something was special with Jacob. Or, simply that the conditions for Abraham's departure were less noteworthy. Another thought is that when Abraham left Beersheva, he was not yet known as a righteous man, but when Jacob left, he had acquired a reputation.

28:13 God comes to Jacob in his dream and tells him אני ה׳ אלוהי אברהם אביך ואלוהי יצחק... I am God, the God of Abraham your father and Isaac. Yet, Isaac is Jacob's father, not Abraham. Why then are we told that Abraham is Jacob's father?

28:16 even the songs with which I am familiar from camp are part of this parsha. אכן יש ה׳ במקום הזה ואנוכי לא ידעתי. Surely God was in this place and I didn't know it. Yet, don't we talk about God being all around? So what is so strange about Heron that Jacob thinks God isn't even present there? Even stranger, he becomes afraid with this realization (28:17. Why fear, especially in a place where one has felt God (maybe the fear is precisely because Jacob felt the presence of God.

29:11 "and Jacob kissed Rachel." The question is how innocent of a kiss is this? And why was he looking for Rachel to begin with? He didn't know her from Leah, unless there is a backstory that we aren't aware of.

29:15, 18. Laban asks Jacob how he wants to receive payment for his work, to which Jacob responds that he will work 7 years for Rachel (or at least the privilege to marry her)! Jacob is the one to suggest that he will work such a short time. But it's interesting that the suggestion of some form of augment comes from Laban, and he initially agrees to the terms Jacob sets down. Yet why does Jacob set down such a long time; to demonstrate his seriousness in wanting to marry her? Also, although not surprising,  Rachel has no voice in this...

Jerusalem: an inspiration

There is nothing like Jerusalem to stir up turmoil, excitement, frustration, and just engage the brain.

Thursday night, en route to the holy city, I never expected to find so much fulfillment in two days, but every fiber of me is feeling very much fulfilled and satisfied with all that has transpired.

Friday was the beginning, with an eye-opening trip with T'ruah. We visited Silwan, where Ahmed, a Palestinian facing a very real threat of eviction and house demolition, not to mention the permanent fixture of a bullet  embedded in his leg. Next, Yoni Mizrachi spoke to us about archaeological records and how the artifacts found at Ir David (which in itself possesses a controversial name) may not necessarily be from the time of the kingdom of David. Lastly and most impactful to me was the visit to Sheik-Jarra. Here, we spoke with a lovely Palestinian woman who told us of her experience with the Israeli government and Jews. This beautiful and proud woman demonstrated that she moved to her current house in 1956 and is currently under threat of eviction. Two doors down, we saw the evidence that these evictions were not fiction, but rather hard and true fact. This small neighborhood has slowly been turned into an orthodox enclave, complete with the supposed grave of Shimon haTzadik.

As we stood listening to this woman share her experience, we watched an orthodox woman walk down the street with her three young sons, covered head to toe in a black burka. Having never seen this outfit, I was taken aback and couldn't help but stare. It was explained that this was another way for woman to feel they were maintaining their modesty. To me, it felt like a step too far. We were shown houses taken over by Jews and the cameras surrounding them, in order to 'protect' the Jews. The same explanation was given about the guards provided by the housing ministry: they were simply there to protect. The fact that two people had died in the past few years could never be blamed on them (although it seemed sensible that it would be). All in all, this experience really nagged at me and made me question what I want to believe in in this country, with what I feel comfortable. Most importantly, I felt UNPREPARED TO WELCOME SHABBAT. How could I, when Jews were the persecutors and I felt partly to blamed. Even more, how could I even think of writing a d'var Torah for the week, when this dilemma was real and continued daily in these people's lives.

In looking at the parsha, I found an answer. Rivka is struggling with her pregnancy and asks God what is happening. God's explanation focuses on the two nations within, and what will become of each. God's answer, in Genesis 25:23, provides an example, but one that we shouldn't necessarily utilize: Two nations are in thy womb, And two peoples shall be separated from thy bowels; And the one people shall be stronger than the other people; And the elder shall serve the younger. This answer almost gave me chills, it was so easy to interpret in a way that was against the Palestinian population. Yet these two warring nations must live together, must be in the same place. And that is not the circumstances in this country of Israel. Rather, the Palestinians are continually forcibly evicted from their homes and told to go elsewhere, without compensation.

Nothing about this experience is fair or right, but recognizing the oddity that I was able to find at least something in the text, for this week, that relates to this tragedy was heartening (and scary). Because if I can find an explanation in support of the Palestinians, so can the orthodox find a parek against these people. That's the part I struggle with the most: knowing that there is always another verse, another explanation from the opposite direction. Fortunately, I at least know how I feel and that truth must be told. That is the purpose of this week's drash.

This evening, walking home from a viewing of the woman of the wall documentary with a rabbi whom I had just met a few hours previously, I was recounting my experience to her and she made a comment that really made me think. She assessed that not only is the struggle Rivka experiences in her womb representative of two sons and two nations, but the dilemma we each feel inside of us. We feel the push and pull of what is right and wrong, what we believe in and what we don't. So more importantly, we must remember the internal struggle and allow our hearts to remind us what is right, what wrong, and for what we simply need to ask for more information!