Why don't people follow the Torah/Kashrut?

This week's parsha, Shmini (Vayikra 9:1-11:47), makes many daily activities pre-ordained down to the finest detail. One such activity is eating. The laws concerning food and its consumption take up much space in our Torah, with this parsha being the first time real rules for said consumption are handed down. We are commanded in which animals to eat and which to avoid, as they are abominations for us! Yet how did these seemingly arbitrary decisions regarding our stomach contents come about, and in the desert, no less? More importantly, if God wasn't human, how could God honestly make such important decisions about something we spend much of our lives doing, thinking about, or preparing?

First and for most, we must remember that these were ordinances handed down by God. For that very reason, we cannot just throw them out the window (one of my students asked today why people don't believe in Torah or Kashrut!). God's authority is too important, even to those who may not observe all of God's precepts, to simply ignore EVERYTHING. As food is one of those universally attended to things, its one of the aspects of the Torah that is considered even by people who don't consider the Torah to be the word of God and the law by which they must live their lives.

So what of these animals that we are allowed to eat, and which are forbidden? We can have animals with cloven hooves which chew their cud. We can have animals of the sea with fins and scales. We cannot have winged, swarming things that walk on fours. And the Torah specifics which birds we cannot have. Examples of each category are provided.

But wait, why? Why should you bother listening, reading, continuing to care about this? That was exactly what one of my kids asked, but in a slightly different way. We were explaining what Kashrut is (if you can figure out how to simply explain Kashrut without getting into too many details, you will gain my unyielding respect), and talking about the fact that some people keep Kashrut and some don't. Usually the ones that keep it wear a Kippah and are considered to be dati (religious). (Interesting that in Israel, if you're "religious" you keep Kosher. In America, most Jews I know, whether observant on a regular basis or not, keep some semblance of Kashrut.)

Anyway, one of our kids stops the teacher and asks: "But why do people not believe in Kashrut or the Torah?"

We all stopped and looked at him in shock. First of all, this is a difficult question to answer in any language. Second of all, the amount of insight it takes to ask a question like that is incredibly deep.

Both the teacher and I started to answer, but she quickly deferred to me. I began with one answer, saying that sometimes people don't believe that the Torah came directly from God, so they don't feel the need to follow that word to the letter. However, I wanted to do justice to different perspectives, and didn't know how to say it. Even though the teacher said I could say in English and she would explain, I didn't have the words in English either. One of the other aides suggested that a reason for not following Kashrut was that it is too hard. The number of restrictions it places on one's life, the way it describes exactly what one must do and how, feels overbearing and not at all like something that is easy to follow.

I'll admit that I personally have struggled with the idea of Kashrut. Growing up, we didn't have separate dishes and we ate mashed potatoes (with butter) with our steak. As I got older, I stopped eating red meat and now do not mix milk and meat. Now I only eat Kosher meat if I buy it. In my own home, I want two sets of dishes. For me, it is about those around me, my friends and family, feeling comfortable eating in my house. But I have to say my curiosity is peaked when I wonder what the actual restrictions are all about?

Are they because at the time the Torah was given to Moses, the unkosher animals were also the unhealthy or unclean ones? Was it another way to distinguish between the Jews and the non-Jews, making sure that Jews stayed in their own communities (it is easier to eat a certain way and ensure that it is maintained if everyone else around also does that). Is this another way for God to demonstrate God's dominion over God's people? Truthfully, I don't have an answer. I'm not sure that an answer must be reached. Although many people have difficulty accepting something without reason, maybe that is the whole point of Kashrut. Maybe it's another one of those things that we have to accept on faith. It may even be beneficial in the long run!

Therefore, in the coming week, consider how you eat. You don't need to start keeping strict biblical Kosher, but maybe be mindful of how you eat and what you are eating. Be thankful for it. take your time in processing it.

Shabbat Shalom!

Parshat Tzav and Purim

מי שניכנס אדר מרבין בשמחה

Whomever welcomes the month of Adar, increases in joy!

Saturday night (Sunday night in walled/fortified cities), begins the holiday of Purim. A holiday misconstrued as one for children and simply full of frilly or scary costumes. In actuality, Purim is a holiday meant for those of all ages. With the four Mitzvot attached to it, it ensures that there is something for every family member: seudah v'shtiya, kriat Megillah, mishloach manot and matanot l'evyonim (a festive meal, the reading of the Megillah, giving of gifts and giving to the poor. The meal should be relaxed and enjoyable enough, where you drink enough to not know the difference between the phrases 'cursed be Haman' and 'blessed be Mordechai'. The Megillah reading is a family affair, with the mitzvah requiring all to hear it (except for a certain small group of people). The gift giving is also something everyone can participate in, teaching the important lessons of giving to those in need and sharing what you have. All in all, a good holiday.

Yet here in Israel we have been celebrating Purim for the past month and a half, since Adar aleph came in. Meaning the catchy tunes are no longer amusing and the face point no longer appealing. Yet the hamentashin (oznei haman-Haman's ears here in Israel) are still incredibly tasty and the joy still contagious.

The question then becomes, why do we read such a seemingly dry parsha the week before such a happy and joyful holiday? Well, first reason is that the Torah was not designed to be read in conjunction with the holidays (we have special parshiot assigned to certain biblically ordained holidays), and so the reading continues along, week by week, a progression from the week before. 

So what's with this weeks parsha, Tzav, in vayikra 6:1-8:36? We get a continuation of the instructions for the myriad of offerings and are told what the priests can take from each offering. However, all of chapter 8 deals with the consecration of the Mishkan and it's attendants (the priests). We are told in detail how the high priest (Aaron) is to be dressed and the order in which he puts on each piece. As it is written in 8:7, וַיִּתֵּ֨ן

עָלָ֜יו אֶת־הַכֻּתֹּ֗נֶת וַיַּחְגֹּ֤ר אֹתוֹ֙ בָּֽאַבְנֵ֔ט וַיַּלְבֵּ֤שׁ אֹתוֹ֙ אֶֽת־הַמְּעִ֔יל וַיִּתֵּ֥ן עָלָ֖יו אֶת־הָאֵפֹ֑ד וַיַּחְגֹּ֣ר אֹת֗וֹ בְּחֵ֙שֶׁב֙ הָֽאֵפֹ֔דוַ יֶּאְפֹּ֥ד ל֖וֹ בּֽוֹ׃ 

And he put on him (Aaron) the tunic and tied the girdle and dressed him in the robe and gave him the ephod and tied him with the band of the ephod, with the ephod he girded him.

We're also instructed how that Aaron must be washed and at blood must be put on the tip of Aaron's right ear, on the thumb of his right ear, and on the big toe of his right foot (the rabbis likely had a field day with the particulars of that one!).

Here, I am not concerned with the rabbinic interpretation, but rather with the dressing up aspect, of changing into something else. At Purim time, we get to shed our everyday masks and become another being, acquire another identity. The priest in this week's parsha does a similar thing. He shed's his former clothing, the mask of Aaron the man and becomes Aaron the kohen, Aaron the high priest. This new identity sets him apart from all the other Hebrews. Unlike with Purim, where we can simply take off our costumes and re-don our former identity, Aaron has been formally given this position, unable to simply abdicate or say he doesn't feel like it one day.

Fortunately, we can abdicate many of the masks we consciously or unconsciously don. This Purim, I challenge you to look within and discover what masks you wear, what identities you portray. Decide what is appropriate and what you can choose to discard. Become a new person or re-discover the best you. Be like Aaron and wear your identity with pride, demonstrating the process and necessity that comes with some masks along with the excitement of newness and passion.

חג פורים שמח, ושבת שלום

Happy Purim and Shabbat shalom!

Vayikra: sins and offerings

If only we could get rid of our sins so easily. A simple sin offering and whatever you did is suddenly absolved. I personally admit that I have committed my fair share of sins and would find great relief in knowing that they are off my back and my board of good and bad actions was back to either only good or neutral. Especially when so much of what we say to others often comes without intention.

Yet, the Torah suggests that absolving sin is as simple as we would like. In parshat vayikra, 4:1, 13, 22, 27, we are given the guidelines of when to offer a sin offering. These include three things: the sin is committed unintentionally, it involves an action/act, and it must be breaking a mitzvah. For any bigger sin, where a person is aware of what they are doing, they must atone in much larger ways. Rashi clarifies our understanding of verse 4:2 by emphasizing that a sin offering is only necessary when the sin itself would require kerat (excision). This means that we only perform the sin offering if the gravest of sins are performed. For other sins, there are other ways of atoning, each one related to the kind of sin and how bad it is perceived to be.

Considering this idea in the present day realm, we are faced with a few questions. How can we be expected to atone when we don't have a temple in which to do so? What is the parallel method of making atonement if we cannot do a sin offering or any other kind of offering? What purpose does the offering serve in the first place, and why can I not just write it off?

Starting with the last question, we must always make amends. The wrongs we do to others are never simply reversible without action taken on our part. Active participation in life, and therefore in righting wrongs, is necessary to live the life of a good and honest person. But why the sin offering. Scholars at Yeshivat Har Etzion consider that the purpose of the sin offering is to make amends between a person and God, as the transgression that has been committed is harsh enough to cause a rift in that relationship. The sin offering is a physical act that a person can do to acknowledge the need to purify him or her self, and therefore reconnect to the holiness inside. Therefore, we must counter our negative sin action with a positive action.

Next we are faced with a more difficult question: how can we be expected to make a sin offering when there is no temple in which to make it? Many Jews do believe that there will soon be a third temple (in my lifetime!), eliminating the necessity of this question. However, as of this writing, the third temple has not been erected and we have not reinstated sacrifice (the question of what to do with prayer and t'fillot as a whole is a subject for many more conversations to come). Without a temple, we cannot ignore the necessity to atone, but must rather discover other ways of doing so. Although Yom Kippur is one option, it comes but once a year and does not allow for the regular self absolution that sin-offerings are meant to provide. Therefore, we must actively seek out alternative actions that negate our sin.

What are these parallel actions that allow us to make atonement. The hardest question to ask one's self, when we personally are the ones committing the negative actions. What is something that forces us to remove ourself from a situation and actively change our ways. The sin offering is completely outside of one's self and therefore forces a different perspective on the entire situation. Here too, we must discover an alternative method of sin offering. Therefore, maybe preparing some sort of food sacrifice. Or, were people to raise issue with an actual offering of any sort, an extra prayer or two. But truthfully, the sin offerings of today must come from within, as a personal delivery to God. As with most things these day, including the millennial generation, things must be individualized. Each person must have his or her own sin offering. We must each discover what allows us to repent for what we have done.

What, therefore, is your sin offering today? How do you make it and what does it mean to you?

Shabbat Shalom!

Pikudei: repetition or reification

Tv host: "Welcome back to wandering the desert. And building a tabernacle in which to worship God!"

Audience member: "What, I can't hear you!!"

Tv host: raises voice "I said, WELCOME BACK TO..."

Sometimes we repeat ourselves. In fact, this happens often that we are asked to repeat an argument or a statement because someone else didn't hear or understand. This second time we speak more clearly, try to reiterate the point within a better framework. Whatever the reason, we speak twice.

However, the Torah rarely demonstrates redundancy. Words are chosen carefully and not wasted. Each word, each letter even, has a purpose and any additional letters would be excessive. Our Mitzvot are present in the Torah, irregardless of how fleeting their mention might be. That indeed is the purpose of the Mishna and Gemara; to explain and expand.

What then, do we make of repetition? Parshat pikudei, the last parsha in the book Shemot, is a reiteration of the past few parshiot, in particular Trumah and tetzvah. We are faced with a present tense retelling of story of building the Mishkan. The description is again detailed and the various jewels and colors necessary for the construction are specific to the end.

Noticing this redundancy in passing, I mentioned it at my weekly Torah study. As it turns out, Chabad rabbis also had a question about this. Their explanation centers around  Moses's commune with God. Rabbi schneerson argues that Moses's soul is already elevated to another level, the level of the heavens, so he can commune with God. Yet the people are not, so they must receive the instructions again, this time from Moses.

When I consider this issue, I see the idea in a slightly different light. First, it is possible that this is a demonstration of multiple authorship. The redundancy in Torah, with slight differences often regales the reader with the form knowledge that a descrepency between sources may have occurred.

Another explanation centers around God. God is this central character in the Torah and we do not take lightly the words which God utters. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that we reveer the actions God intends us to take. Following that line of logic, a repetition of the instructions of building the Mishkan is reasonable, even logical. How can we possibly imagine constructing the resting place of the holy God in any manner less than perfect?

Third and last, the whole book of Shemot, exodus, tells the story of the exodus from Egypt. The sensibility of ending this chapter of the saga with a description of how the Hebrews built the tabernacle is not only reasonable, but marvelous. Only a short time before, they were slaves in Egypt and now they are building a tabernacle of precious jewels and metals. This is definitely a demonstration of God's power and ability.

Whatever the reasons are for repetition in the Torah and in particular in this parsha, we may never know. In fact, we may not need no know. What we can know is that there is  God and God's dwelling place, which we do respect.

Also, we have officially finished the book of Shemot, which means next week we move onto a whole different method of communication and passing on knowledge: vayikra, Leviticus (the laws!!!)

Shabbat shalom!'

Sanctifying our vessels

We've spent the past few weeks worth of Torah portions learning about the Mishkan (the sacred sanctuary in the desert): how to build it, with what materials, the particular colors and specifications, and who should be responsible for the actual building. The detail with which God describes this beauty is minute and may even seem trivial. Yet, with the surrounding narrative telling the story of the Hebrews receiving the Ten Commandments and the ordeal with the Golden Calf, the reader must recognize the significance of these details. There must be something profound in the detailed directions painstakingly described for us over and over.

Of course there is. We pray to God, we sanctify God and we are reminded more than once in the Torah that we shall have no other Gods (I.e. don't pray to idols and whole variety of other things). God is this powerful entity to whom we give our thanks and receive atonement, so the necessity of remembering how sacred God is shouldn't be surprising. Even more specific, the vessel through which we approach God must also be constructed with the utmost care and particularity. Hence, the multifaceted instructions.

If we consider that another vessel through which we approach God is through our bodies, we must also remember to protect and guard our bodies, maintaining their purity so we can commune with God when the time comes. In the 21st century, for most reform Jews, that the time is Shabbat. Therefore, we see that Shabbat can be our modern day Mishkan, making the mention of Shabbat in this weeks Torah portion very reasonable.

In this week's torah portion, vayekehal, in Shemot 35:2 we read ששת ימים תעשה מלאכה וביום השביעי יהיה להם קדש שבת שבתון, for six days you will do work and on the seventh day you will have for yourselves a holy day, a Shabbat of solemn rest. Shabbat is our chance to remind ourselves of our own holiness and experience the shabbaton, the cessation of work and constant movement. We must demonstrate the respect we have for our bodies. Not only that, but before we are able to pray using the Mishkan, we must sanctify ourselves and ensure our own purity. Therefore, the Torah first mentions Shabbat and then mentions the construction of the Mishkan.

May we take this Shabbat to sanctify our own vessels, ourselves, and truly feel ready and able to continue with the week to come

Ki Tisa: repentance to humanity

The psychological deprivation is astounding. Although the metal sheeting that serves as a roof is patterned red and white, there seems to be a distinct lack of color. No where is this more apparent than in the contrast between the muted tones of the metal walkway and the brightly colored jumpsuits of the boys walking through. Wrinkled men and women, intermingled with the vibrant life of youth, wait patiently for their number to be belted out by the garbled loudspeaker.

This site, the Qaladiya checkpoint, resonates with denigration and active dismissal of humanity. Instead of focusing on the necessity of treating every human as created בצלם אלו-הים, betezelm elohim, in the image of God, this check point focuses on demoralization and how to demonstrate Israeli superiority. As people who only recently experienced being hoarded into cattle cars, how is it that we can imagine a torture chamber of a fenced walkway, roughly the width and height of a human body? Only once a trigger is released does the mechanical turnstile progress to let in the next victims to search and questioning.

When human beings are placed in unfamiliar situations, they look for solutions to bring peace to the tumult this circumstances naturally brings forth. In pars hat Ki Tisa, the Israelites tell Aaron: עשה לנו אלוהים אשר ילכו לפנינו כי-זה משה האיש אשר העלנו מארץ מצרים לא ידענו מה-היה לו, Make for us a God who/that will go before us because this Moses who brought us out of Egypt, we do not know him (Shemot 32:1). This translates into the golden calf, for which Aaron takes all of the gold and jewelry and makes the calf. Instead of destroying the Israelites and just making Moses and his offspring a great nation, God listens to Moses's pleas for salvation on behalf of the Israelites and repents. As it is written in Shemot 32:15 וינחם ה' על הרעה אשר דבר לעשות לעמו, and God repented for the evil which he spoke of doing/wished to do onto his people.

Repentance is the key difference between these two stories. In each, we get a group of people or entity acting as the persecutors, and the victims of the persecution. In both cases, the victims have done something wrong (although arguably not at all on the level of the punishment which they are being served): the Palestinians have raised a number of terrorists and attacks did rock Israel for a number of years while the Israelites created a golden calf after being specifically given the Ten Commandants, which include a prohibition against idol worship. However, the Palestinians are not bad people as a whole, nor do they deserve to be treated as if each individual person is likely going to explode the next Israeli they see. Their address should not be a limiting factor, but it serves to strangle their life capabilities. The Israelites were untrusting of a man who brought them out of Egypt to then leave them standing in the desert as he ascended a giant mountain shrouded in mystery. Who wouldn't be in search of a physical reminder of what meaning their lives hold and which God brought them out of slavery.

The constant struggle between finding the proper balance of truth is tiring. Sometimes humans seek the easy route to simply move on with life. Yet in doing so, the minutia of meaning that exists between the words said and the actions taken are lost and evaporate from accessibility. With the situation of God and Moses, the repentance that God offers of his harsh words, we see that there is a possibility to not lose the beautiful and therefore maintain blessing and truth to life. Unfortunately, the situation and circumstances between the West Bank and the rest of Israel is not one entity against a nation, but rather two nations in direct competition with another. The checkpoints and barriers separating people and worlds, or simply families, are not going to end anytime soon. This week's Torah portion urges compassion and repentance, appreciation for the other in an unthinkable situation. Might we be able to appreciate the other, our brothers and sisters, and see them as human beings deserving of righteousness? Or is that too much to ask of a people who pride themselves on have the third best military capability in the world? Maybe, one day, there will be open borders and interactions between people. But today, God has redeemed the people, and God's self, while the Israeli military still condemns herself to violating human rights and denigrating other lives.

May this Shabbat be one where we explore the meaning of inclusion and understanding, and we recognize our fellow human being as just that, human. May it be God's will.

Tetzvah: purity and perfection

This week, in parshat tetzvah, we read about the priests and the very specific clothing and accoutrements which they are intended to have. Not only that, but we are informed as to how to make appropriate sacrifices and with what kind of animals. The specifications are exact and demand attention to detail.

Aaron's clothing;  a breastplate, an ephod, tunic, mitre and girdle. All this for the priest, where he must stay seven days in the holy chamber, and must only enter when he himself is pure. Each aspect of his outfit must be made delicately and specifically. More importantly, the elements brought for sacrifice must also be pure, without blemish. Everything entering the ארון הקודש, the holy ark, must be pure, including the animals of sacrifice. Shemot 29:1 reminds us to bring ואלים שנים תמימים, two rams without blemish and Shemot 30:9 informs לא-תעלו עליו קטרת זר, don't bring to the alter strange incense. Basically, anything that is not perfect cannot enter or be used in the holy ark.

Yet what about sons of Aaron who were not so perfect, who were born with blemishes, with speech impediments, with special needs? Were they to absolve their duties and simply live, be banished from what seems to have been their birthright?

On a daily basis, I see children full of love and joy, bursting with small tidbits to share, made mute by a disorder or birth defect; from any number of things. These children constantly warm my heart, showing me that it is possible to connect no matter how 'not there' a person may be. These hearts, they are the most pure, the most perfect. My kids only know how to love with a full heart. However, they are often unaware of their surrounding, of what impedes their daily activities. Whether or not they can articulate it, they seem to know they are different. They drool, put their hands in their mouths, are incontinent. Simply put, they can seem unfortunate.

So how do we corroborate the two images; the need for perfection on one hand and the God-given perfection I see on a daily basis? One perfect necessitates an image which society as a whole attempts to raise on a pedestal, the other being oftentimes denigrated to the fringes of society. The Torah, however, is specific: nothing or no one with blemishes. In order to commune with Elohim, we must be in an elevated state, one of physical perfection. Therefore, my children, my students, will never qualify.

Fortunately for the world, we don't do sacrifice anymore, meaning this descrepency no longer has such a strong pull on one's conscience. Instead, we must actively see how society as a whole treats individuals who are different. We must not send our sin offerings and impure people outside of the camp, as sometimes the purity being sought does not exist. Rather, we must welcome these sinners and impurities into our community and demonstrate to them that they too have a place, that they too are part of the greater whole. That is the beauty of this weeks parsha. We are able to recognize the demand for perfection and purity, but look past it towards acceptance and an understanding that purity comes in many forms, sometimes we just may not see it on a shallow, external level.