Friday, September 26, 2014

Ha'azinu: Who Shall Listen?

This week’s parsha, parshat Ha’azinu, falls on Shabbat T’shuvah, the Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Reading the parsha earlier in the week, I was so excited to think that I had finished the Torah, that everything had happened and I had completed a year of reading each parsha, and writing a drash on it. However, when I went to look at the Torah to look something up for Torah study, I was surprised! There is a whole extra parsha after this one. Needless to say, I was slightly disappointed. But alas, in all the shuffle of the High Holidays, something had to get confused and forgotten. This is a small thing and I’ll take it.

In thinking that this is the last parsha of the Torah, I was intrigued to find that it ends with Moses going up on the mountain and dying. God tells him to do like Aaron, go up the mountain and be gathered to his kin. Moses knows, and is reminded, that Moses broke faith with God and is therefore able to see the land from a distance, but not from up close. In my world, that was how the Torah ended. A rather apex-like ending, but an incomplete one (stay tuned for next week, where the parsha is actually the last parsha in the Torah and I get to experience my excitement all over again!).

Instead, we have the continuation of an epic story. God told us last week to write down God’s words in a poem, as a reminder to the people. The words should serve as a witness to what will happen to the people if they go astray. In that song, we get four parts. The first past is God establishing God’s loving relationship with the people. The second sees the people rejecting God in favor of other deities, with other peoples. Next, God decides to decimate the people. Lastly, God relents, recognizing that if God did destroy the people Israel, other people’s might feel they were the cause of that destruction. God is humanized. In this poem, meant to guide us away from joining to the deities of other people, God in fact becomes more benevolent. Yes, God’s anger is apparent and fear is instilled in one’s heart from reading this epic poem. But God is showed as being caring, as considerate, as aware of the place of the people in the greater scheme of things. In short, God still cares about us, about the Jewish people.

As we find ourselves in the Days of Awe, the 10 days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we are made aware of our place in history. We are made aware that God can choose to not care, to destroy us anyway (if God destroyed us, we wouldn’t be around to worry about who destroyed us!). We know that God’s hand is powerful and that God is our rock. Yet we see that God, like a benevolent parent, sees that we will slip up, that we will go astray, that we will miss the mark, whether in large or small ways. But God will not leave us completely. God will not abandon us to walk on our own, nor will God completely forget about us as God’s people.

A midrash on the parsha reflects God’s attitude.

The Holy Blessed One at times appears, and at times does not appear;
at times hears, and at times does not want to hear;
at times responds, and at times does not respond;
at times may be addressed, and at times may not be addressed;
at times may be found, and at times may not be found;
at times is near, and at times is not near.(Midrash Tanhuma, Ha’azinu 4)

I would like to argue that God is, at this time, at God’s most apparent, most able to listen and respond, most patient and ready to be addressed, most present and most near. At this time, may we discover a way to demonstrate to God that we appreciate God’s presence in our lives, and find ways to come closer to God, to not warrant the harsh punishment or decree that God does discuss in this parsha. “God avenges the blood of God’s servants,” our Torah writes in Deuteronomy 32:43. Let us warrant that God avenge us, let us warrant that God listens to us.

Shabbat shalom!

Friday, September 19, 2014

Generations with God

אתם נצבים היום כלכם לפני ה׳ אלוהיכם, “You stand here today, all of you, before God, your God.” So starts this week’s double portion, Nitzavim-Va’yeilech. God gathers all the people, in order to tell them that they will be entered into the covenant with God. This is yet another reminded that all of them, as the people Israel, even those with the littlest of tasks of abilities, have come before God to receive the covenantal agreement for the future generations. However, the rabbis ask why we have both the words אתם, plural, you all, and כלכם, all of you, in the same sentence. It seems redundant. Rashi posits that the redundancy is actually a very important aspect of this parsha. There are both the future generations and the past generations, converging in this one spot, hearing the covenant spoken one last time before Moses’ death and the people’s entrance to the land of Israel.

Interesting that this should come up right before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Rosh Hashanah, sometimes called Yom HaZikaron, the Day of Remembrance. On this, the week before Rosh Hashanah (almost), we are made aware of the strength of the covenant. We remember those who came before us and consider those who are our future; our children or those still yet to come. We are conscious more than ever of what it means to be a part of a living people, with generational ties backwards and forwards. We again stand before Moses right before his death, while simultaneously standing at Sinai, receiving the Ten Commandments and standing firmly rooted in 5774.

We are that future people, the people who also stood and heard the words uttered by Moses to the people. We take heed of the call to remember God’s commandments and do good, to move forward with the intention to walk in the ways of the covenant, so that blessing may come upon us. We take heed of the fear of retribution, should we not recall God’s commands, knowing the harsh judgment and punishment that will come our way in its steed. We are aware of our place in history.

The timing is fitting it seems, to be reminded one last time of who we are and where we stand with God. In less than a week, we will come before God, ready to atone for the sins we have done against God, having already (hopefully) rectified the ills we have with those around us. Humbled before God, we pray for forgiveness and a clean slate, the opportunity to start the year anew. The Israelites also seemed to have that desire. They were fearful entering the land, wanting God to walk with them, holding their hand and guiding them on their journey. May we therefore be like the Israelites, learning to trust in God. Yet may we also maintain our partnership with God, creating healthy pathways to be the future while recalling the past.

Shabbat Shalom.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Blessings and Bounty

Last weekend, I participated at a spiritual retreat at Camp Alonim in the Simi Valley, about an hour from my apartment. Due to the fact that I was participating and therefore not on my laptop, I did not write a d'var Torah. Everything in its time. However, here are my thoughts on this week's parsa!

This past week marked another new occasion. I began teaching religious school. As I waited for my students to arrive at Congregation Or Ami, I looked around the bare walls of the classroom and tried to imagine what this room would look like by the end of the year. What projects would be up on the walls? Who would be that creative kid who writes an awesome poem about God, or who would describe a connection to God in such a profound way that it had to be displayed? (To explain, I am teaching an entire curriculum on God to 4th graders - a challenging, sometimes daunting task with any age, but especially with 4th graders. But hey, I always like a good challenge).

At the end of my first two classes (both Monday and Wednesday providea different group of kids), my madricha (high school age teaching aide) and I hung up 4 posters, two of each kind. On two of them it was written: What do you think of when you think of God? and on the other two was written the words Kehilah Kedosha, holy community. We discussed both concepts/themes and the kids wrote what they thought. They had so many incredible ideas for how to create that kehilah kedosha within our classroom and the greater Or Ami community that I was blown away. One boy wrote that the best way to create this community was by giving back and doing good things for others. I was floored! A 4th grader came up with that of his own accord! When I asked them about God, they surprised me again. Their images of God were the typical man with a beard in the cloud, but their ideas of what God does and God’s power were astounding. My students shared words like creator, imaginer, dreamer, clouds, judgment, prayer. It was incredible.

Consulting this week’s Torah portion, I wasn’t surprised that our conversation fit into the parsha. God, along with the priests, tells all the people, הסכת ושמע ישראל היום הזה נהיית לעם ה׳ אלוהיך, Keep quiet and listen, Israel; on this day you became a people before/to Adonai, your God (Deut. 27:9). This command, but also this blessing, is very much how I felt about my students this week. They heard the words of the Shema and latched onto them, wanting to learn more. They became a part of a people, our people, the Jewish people, but they also became a part of something else. Together, we became a part of a class, a group of people who will learn and grow together in the coming year, changing and exploring as we do so. I am grateful to be a part of that, to help support and create the community. And I cannot wait to see what will come of it.

Of course, the parsha continues to discuss blessings and curses; that if you follow God’s commandments you will be blessed and that if you don’t you will be cursed. Although unrelated to my classroom necessarily, I find that this parallels my life as a Rabbinical student. Do your reading, your assignments, and you will be blessed with bountiful learning and experiences. However, should you choose not to do as you’re told and read all the readings or do the assignments, your lot will not be as pleasant and you will not get as much out of it. Granted, this circumstance is not black and white, nor does it cast a horrible life outcome on those who choose it, but it is my own personal version of those blessings and curses for this week. My choice is the blessings, to the best of my ability. I only hope that my choices lead me well and help me find more meaning in the messiness of everyday life.

Shabbat Shalom.