Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal – Parshat Trumah

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Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Parshat Trumah
Exodus 25:1 - 27:19; Haftara: I Kings 5:26 - 6:13

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

This week's Torah begins with a different sort of mitzvah, or commandment. In readings prior to and following Parshat Trumah, commandments are stated without an "opt in" or "opt out" clause; we are commanded by a long list of "thou shalt and thou shalt not" pronouncements, and there is no discussion. According to our tradition, these are the orders of God and they are to be obeyed. However, this week's sidra begins a little differently. It states:

 דַּבֵּר אֶל־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִקְחוּ־לִי תְּרוּמָה מֵאֵת כָּל־אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר יִדְּבֶנּוּ לִבּוֹ תִּקְחוּ אֶת־תְּרוּמָתִי:

Speak to the Children of Israel and take for Me gifts from any person whose heart is willing, take My (me?) gifts.

Our Torah portion shares the beginning of a capital campaign, inviting the recently freed Jews, wandering through the wilderness, to offer specific donations which will be used to erect the tabernacle and the tent of meeting which provide a place for God's presence to dwell amongst the people. Unlike other commandments, this one needed to be fulfilled willingly, with a gracious heart. Presumably, if one's heart wasn't willing, one wouldn't need to give. There doesn't appear to be a consequence for not giving. As a building project goes, this is a risky endeavor. What would have happened if enough wasn't collected? What if the people's hearts weren't so open and giving? After all, we have already heard the grumbling of the people on this expedition. Based on the complaining that the Israelites have voiced so far, I wouldn't have imagined that they would be so quick to pull out their checkbooks. However, in the end, we know that the people gave willingly and generously, even requiring Moses to put a halt to the collection due to excess. As a congregational Rabbi, I would love to experience that problem!

Apparently, the commandment to collect gifts for this project wasn't really about a capital or building campaign. In fact, to this point, we know very little about what was to be built. The people were simply told to give generously, according to their hearts' desire – and they did. Giving is a spiritual exercise that is for more than just helping others or creating good feeling. There is something important that happens to the person giving, which can't happen unless they give. The reasoning seems somewhat circular: we must give according to our giving nature, but that giving nature is created by the act of giving. Rabbi Nachman of Breslov gives an important insight into the purpose of this spiritual exercise.

ליקוטי מוהר"ן, תנינא ע״א:ז׳:א׳

וְנֹעַם הָעֶלְיוֹן שׁוֹפֵעַ תָּמִיד, אֲבָל צְרִיכִין כְּלִי לְקַבֵּל עַל־יָדוֹ שֶׁפַע נֹעַם הָעֶלְיוֹן. וְדַע, שֶׁעַל־יְדֵי צְדָקָה נַעֲשֶׂה הַכְּלִי לְקַבֵּל עַל־יָדָהּ מִנֹּעַם הָעֶלְיוֹן שַׁלְהוֹבִין דִּרְחִימוּתָא, כִּי צְדָקָה הִיא נְדִיבוּת לֵב, כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב (שמות כ״ה:ב׳): מֵאֵת כָּל אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר יִדְּבֶנוּ לִבּוֹ תִּקְחוּ אֶת תְּרוּמָתִי; וּנְדִיבוּת לֵב, הַיְנוּ שֶׁנִּפְתָּח וְנִתְנַדֵּב הַלֵּב, וְעַל־יְדֵי־זֶה נִפְתָּחִין שְׁבִילִין דְּלִבָּא, וְנַעֲשִׂין כְּלִי לְקַבֵּל שַׁלְהוֹבִין דִּרְחִימוּתָא, שֶׁנִּמְשָׁכִין מִנֹּעַם הָעֶלְיוֹן כַּנַּ"ל.

Likutei Moharan, Part II 71:7:1

Now, goodness from on high flows continuously. Nevertheless, one must have a vessel with which to receive the influx of this supernal goodness. And know! the vessel with which to receive flames of love from this heavenly goodness which flows into the world is forged through charity. For charity is the generosity of the heart, as it is written (Exodus 25:2), "from every person, as his heart urges him, you shall take My donation." Generosity is that the heart is open and benevolent. As a result, the pathways of the heart open and become a vessel for receiving the flames of love drawn from Supernal goodness, as mentioned above.

The tzedakah we give offers more than resources for others and a good feeling to ourselves. Cultivating and nurturing a giving heart transforms us into vessels that will enable the goodness of God to be contained therein, and travel through the world.

Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal – Parshat Yitro

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Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Parshat Yitro
Exodus 18:1 - 20:23; Haftara: Isaiah 6:1 - 7:6, 9:5 - 6

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

We are finally at the third pillar of our people's sacred journey (three: Creation, Redemption & Revelation). After being freed from Egyptian bondage, the people Israel arrive at the base of Mount Sinai, about to receive God's word and instruction, about to receive the Torah. Chapter 19 of Exodus states:

וַיִּסְעוּ מֵרְפִידִים וַיָּבֹאוּ מִדְבַּר סִינַי וַיַּחֲנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר וַיִּחַן־שָׁם יִשְׂרָאֵל נֶגֶד הָהָר:

"And they travelled from Rephidim, they entered the wilderness of Sinai and encamped in the wilderness. And Israel encamped opposite the mountain" (vs. 2).

This single line invites a lot of questions:

  • Since their stop at Rephidim was noted in Exodus 17:1, why state this locality again here. If we were only told that they 'entered the wilderness of Sinai', we would have assumed that they left Rephidim.
  • Why state that they entered the Wilderness of Sinai in verse two when we learned in the last verse (vs. 1) that the Children of Israel entered the Wilderness of Sinai?
  • Why state that they encamped in the wilderness and then state again that they encamped opposite the mountain?

Let us focus on this last questions. Rashi helps us understand why the text states that they encamped twice. He explains:

ויחן שם ישראל… כאיש אחד בלב אחד :רש"י.

"And Israel encamped (v'yakhen)… As one person with one heart" (Rashi).

For Rashi, the first mention of 'encampment' is to describe a physical positioning. Whereas the second "encampment" alludes to a spiritual posture. Rashi's sentiment is beautiful. Unity is a spiritual expression that we strive for. Unfortunately, Jewish unity is often found around existential threats and rarely finds expressions at the internal divisions that slowly break us apart. Jewish togetherness is an important part of Jewish practice. Dr. Steven Kepnes, in his book, The Future of Jewish Theology, writes, "… We will see that the central events in the history of Judaism, like revelation of the Torah and the Exodus from Egypt, occurred to Israel as a people and the end of Jewish history, redemption, is articulated as a collective salvation of the people and not just the individual" (pg. 45).

Dr. Kepnes' point helps to explain why so many of our prayers, especially on the High Holidays, are said in the collective. The Mahzor states that we have sinned, not I have sinned.

Unity, however, means belonging to a collective. Our identity, therefore, is dependent on something greater than ourselves, which moves at its own pace and is influenced by a myriad of forces. This dependence on the collective doesn't pair so well with the radical individualism that we experience in our modern life. If I am a sovereign self, marching to the beat of my own drum, the captain of my own destiny, where does the collective fit into my life's journey?

The importance of Jewish unity is given greater focus by a further commentary on our pasouk (verse of Torah) and Rashi's explanation.

ויחן שם ישראל… כאיש אחד בלב אחד רש"י: בשעה שישראל מאוחדים ומלוכדים "כאיש אחד בלב אחד" יכולים הם לעמוד נגד ההר", היצר הרע הדומה להר. (אור ישרים)

"And Israel encamped (v'yakhen)… As one person with one heart" (Rashi). In the moment that the people Israel are united and cohesive, "As one person with one heart" it is possible for them to stand opposite 'the mountain,' the evil inclination is similar to a mountain" (Ohr Yesharim).

The Ohr Yesharim, a compendium of commentaries on the great work, "Messilat Yesharim, digs deeper into Rashi's feel-good statement. Creating togetherness is imperative if we are to overcome the evil impulse that courses through us, enticing us away from a life lived, properly, with compassion, kindness, justice, and God.

So how do we unite? How do we find connection with other Jews? How do we live a life united with Jews, committed to a Jewish way of life? I'd start with a spiritual inventory. What do you do which is identifiably Jewish? What is your Jewish practice? Once you have your list, then ask yourself – How can I bring others into my practice and rhythms? Jewish unity doesn't just happen. It takes work. It takes understanding what makes your heart tick and listening to the heartbeat of others. Maybe then our hearts can beat as one.

Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal – Parshat Beshalakh

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Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Parshat Beshalakh
Exodus 13:17 - 17:16; Haftara: Jeremiah 4:4 - 5:31

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Our sidra this week begins at the breaking point. After ten horrific plagues of death and destruction brought upon Egypt as signs and wonders for the Jewish people, Pharaoh finally has enough and sends the people out. Our story begins here: 

 וַיְהִי בְּשַׁלַּח פַּרְעֹה אֶת־הָעָם

And it was when Pharoah sent out the people… 

After all that God brought on Egypt; after all of Moses's great displays of strength, courage, and leadership, after Pharoah and his people were brought to their knees, why does it say that Pharoah sent the people out? Why is the credit given to Pharoah? After all that the people witnessed, was it even a choice anymore? Rabbi Tzadok HaCohen Rabinowitz of Lublin (1823 – 1900) explains the credit due to Pharoah. He states: 

ויהי בשלח פרעה את העם… כל מקום שנאמר ויהי אינו אלא לשון צער (מגילה י). ומה הצער כאן בצאת בני ישראל ממצרים?אלא המכות שהביא הקב"ה על המצרים תכליתן היתה בעיקר לטעת אמונה בלבות בני ישראל ולפתח בקרבם בהדרגה תשוקה עזה לחופש ורצון חזק להשתחרר מכבלי מצרים וטומאתה. לבסוף, אחרי כל המכות, הניסיםם והנפלאות, מספרת לנו התורה: "בשלח פרעה את העם," לא יצאו ממצרים מרצונם, אלא פרעה שלח אותם, זו הצרה וזה הצער. (ר' צדוק הכהן) 

And it was when Pharoah sent out the people… Any place where [the phrase] "Vayahi (and it was)" is used, it is an expression of grief (Talmud Megillah 10b). But what could the grief here be in the sending Israel out of Egypt? The plagues that were brought by God upon Egypt, their essential purpose was to plant belief into the hearts of the Children of Israel and to develop before them a progressive building of strong passion for freedom and a strong desire to be released from the binds of Egypt and their impurity. In the end, however, after all the plagues, miracles and wonders, the Torah states for us, "Pharoah sent out the people", they didn't leave Egypt by their own desire. Rather Pharoah had to send them out. This is the reason for pain and grief (Rabbi Tzadok HaKohen).

Our parsha and R. Tzadok HaKohen are highlighting the importance of motivation and what moves us to make a change in our behavior, environment, and/or expectations. We often speak of motivation as an outside force that is pushing us along. However, motivation is something that comes from within. Motivation, or lack thereof, can be for the simplest issues like starting a home project or going through a pile of papers on our desk, to the most serious like dealing with abusive, destructive behavior or managing a health condition. Regardless of the issue, finding motivation to move forward, even when we know that staying where we are isn't a good option, is difficult to muster. Our sacred scriptures share this very real human condition in the opening words of this week's sidra. Motivation is crucial for a spiritual life. The popular belief is that spirituality is a passive experience, something that magically happens to a person. In truth, spirituality is a practice and living a Jewish life takes motivation. Keeping Kosher, celebrating holidays, lifelong learning, commitment to the betterment of the world and peace within our families and community all take work. Although we have much to celebrate with the release of the Jewish people from the bondage of slavery in Egypt, there is some sadness in this moment in the form of a lack of motivation which will end up plaguing the Jewish people throughout their journey in the wilderness.

If you are interested in exploring motivation and how to move out of the rut that we often find ourselves in, I recommend two podcasts. Both feature authors who have published written material on these important subjects. If you prefer reading about it, please refer to the book suggestions within the descriptions of the following podcasts:

The Ezra Klein Show – Interview with Annie Murphy Paul, author of The Extended Mind

You Know How to Live with Kate Hammer – Interview with Todd Henry, author of The Motivation Code

 

Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal – Parshat Bo

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Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Parshat Bo

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

The issue of freewill is on display in this sidra as the God of Israel and Pharoah battle it out for the Hebrews who were enslaved in Egypt. After seven devastating plagues described in last week's Torah portion and into this week's Parsha with the three final 'signs and wonders' brought upon Egypt for their crimes against humanity, Pharoah experiences a very human condition – hardening of one's heart. This week's Parsha starts with the cause of Pharoah's cardiac event:

בֹּא אֶל־פַּרְעֹה כִּי־אֲנִי הִכְבַּדְתִּי אֶת־לִבּוֹ וְאֶת־לֵב עֲבָדָיו לְמַעַן שִׁתִי אֹתֹתַי אֵלֶּה בְּקִרְבּוֹ:

"Come to Pharoah because I hardened his heart and the heart of his servants in order that I may display these, My signs among them" (Exodus 10:1).

God begins our reading this week by accepting blame for the hardening of Pharoah's heart. Pharoah's heart was in the hands of the divine and God will harden it to display His signs and wonders. According to this opening line, we can assume that Pharoah doesn't have a choice in the matter. His freewill has been taken away. This idea makes Pharoah into a puppet, a patsy who is being manipulated to allow for God's greater point, a display of power and wonder for the people Israel. This has disturbed Torah commentators for generations. What does it say about a loving and forgiving God if He is preventing people from repenting and changing their direction in life? But what about the end of last week's Parsha:

וַיַּרְא פַּרְעֹה כִּי־חָדַל הַמָּטָר וְהַבָּרָד וְהַקֹּלֹת וַיֹּסֶף לַחֲטֹא וַיַּכְבֵּד לִבּוֹ הוּא וַעֲבָדָיו: וַיֶּחֱזַק לֵב פַּרְעֹה וְלֹא שִׁלַּח אֶת־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל כַּאֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר יְהוָֹה בְּיַד־מֹשֶׁה:

"But when Pharaoh saw that the rain and the hail and the thunder had ceased, he hardened his heart and the hearts of his servants. And he added to his guilt, and he hardened his heart, his and his servants. So, Pharaoh's heart stiffened, and he would not let the Israelites go, just as the LORD had foretold through Moses" (Exodus 9:34 – 35).

Is the end of last week's sidra different than this week? In Parshat Bo, it seems like God is responsible for the hardening of Pharoah's heart. Whereas at the very end of last week's reading, Pharoah appears to be in control of his own heart. Remember, our Torah is one long continuous document. The breaks and divisions from week to week are a much later innovation. Therefore, these verses aren't separated by anything. What is our sacred scripture trying to inform us when there seem to be disparate verses one right after another? Which one is it? Did God harden Pharoah's heart or did Pharoah harden his own heart? The answer is a very spiritual one – Yes!

Life is filled with experiences. Some of those experiences are blessed and welcomed while others aren't. We can't choose the experiences we'll encounter, but we can choose our reaction to them. It's meaningful that the Torah shares Pharoah's role in hardening his own heart before the verse which assigns this responsibility to God. We are the first cause in our own experiences. Once we decide which heart to bring to an experience, God will approach in kind, affirming our choice. When he decided to harden his heart in response to God, Moses, and the plight of the Hebrew and Egyptian people, Pharoah chose the characteristic of God he was going to experience. The same is true about any of our spiritual postures. If we bring an open mind, we will be approached with openness and opportunity. If we bring a giving hand, we will be met with generosity. We cannot choose our lot in life, but we can decide how we plan to approach it.

Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal – Parshat Va'era

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Torah Commentary with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Parshat Va'era - What's in a Name?!

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

What should we do if we catch God in a lie? Maybe that's a bit harsh. I'll rephrase. What if we catch God sharing a mistruth? An inaccuracy? An incorrect retelling of events? We know that God carefully weighs the cost-benefit analysis of sharing the whole truth regarding the impending doom of the city of Sodom and Gomorrah with Abraham (see Genesis 18:17). Now, that is not lying, it's just withholding the truth. But what about the opening lines of this week's sidra (scriptural reading):

אֲנִי יְהוָֹה: וָאֵרָא אֶל־אַבְרָהָם אֶל־יִצְחָק וְאֶל־יַעֲקֹב בְּאֵל שַׁדָּי וּשְׁמִי יְהֹוָה לֹא נוֹדַעְתִּי לָהֶם:

I am "Yud-Hey-Vav-Hey" (the tetragrammaton), I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob by means of El Shaddai but my name "Yud-Hey-Vav-Hey" I did not make known to them. (Exodus 6:3)

Is that true? As my teacher, Dr. Richard Elliot Friedman, points out, God made known his name, "Yud-Hey-Vav-Hay," many times! (Gen 13:4; 15:2; 22:14,16; 26:22,25; 28:3). What is God trying to share by saying, "I didn't make known my name" when our patriarchs and matriarchs of Genesis seem to know it?

I believe it's not the name per se, rather it's the characteristic that was emblematic of the name. We expect different character traits or behavior from someone we might call doctor or officer versus those we call mom or daughter. It's not just the title but it's the behavior, presence and relationship that follows which really solidifies the title. Our matriarchs and patriarchs might have known the name "Yud-Hey-Vav-Hay," but their relationship with God was characteristic of the name El Shaddai.

So, what is the difference between the names?

El Shaddai:

Our Talmud offers a creative understanding of the name El Shaddai. Resh Laqish said: "What is it that is written: 'I am El Shaddai?' (Genesis 35:11) I am he who said to the world, 'Enough!'" (Tractate Hagigah 12a)

This is a play on words. "El," being one of the many names of God. "Sha," a prefix meaning "that." And finally, the word "Dai," made famous from the Passover song, Dayenu, meaning "enough." According to Resh Laqish, God is the One who saw the world coming into being and gave it its limits. Connected with this sugia (thematic chapter of Talmud) is an interesting analogy: the universe, unraveling like a ball of yarn rolling away from the center with no end to its roll, until God said, "Die!" This is the God known to our family in the book of Genesis. The creation story has its limits. God limits how much our matriarchs and patriarchs know about the Divine. God is cautious about sharing with Abraham the plan for Sodom and Gomorrah. God's presence comes and goes. Although God is the protagonist of the Book of Genesis, God's presence is limited. El Shaddai is the name of a limited, withheld deity.

Yud-Hey-Vav-Hay (the tetragrammaton):

The Book of Exodus reveals a different characteristic of God. One of awesome power and might, one of deep and limitless concern and love for God's people. A God who sees no limit in how to bring justice to the oppressed and downtrodden. The God of Exodus knows no bounds. Maybe this is the reason for the name shift. "Yud-Hey-Vav-Hey," might not be new in name but this is a new experience of God. Our tradition goes even further with this name of God, teaching us that the name itself is unpronounceable, unknown to our ears and lips. Its sound is truly limitless.

Might this be the aspect of God we are invited to see in this new book of the revelation, in the book of Exodus. A God without limits. A God whose compassion and love for us knows no bounds. A God that sees in us potential, brilliance and hope even when we fall into despair. Is it any wonder that we invoke "Yud-Hey-Vav-Hay" in every blessing we say throughout our day? Might this be a reminder that we must encounter each moment without limits, without restraint, with endless possibilities and unbound love and compassion.

Shabbat Shalom.

Talmudic Reflections with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal – Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Ta'anit 21b

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Talmudic Reflections with Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Ta'anit 21b

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

The Text:

Three people hear a heavenly voice, the Bat Kol – the small, still voice of God. According to our sages, the Bat Kol is the voice with which God speaks to us after the end of the prophetic era. In this sugia (thematic chapter), the Bat Kol doesn't seem to provide wisdom or insight, but simply a greeting – Shalom Aleichem – peace be upon you. These three people are Abba the Bloodletter, Abaye, and Rava. Abaye and Rava are well known in the Talmud, both 4th generation Amorim (contributors to the Gemara). Abaye rose to be the head of the Babylonian yeshiva, Pumbadita, while Rava continued to be his greatest sparring partner, challenging and learning with him in the study halls. Rava also has the distinction of being the most referenced Rabbi in the Talmud. Abba the Bloodletter is a strange companion to these distinguished scholars. Whereas Abaye and Rava are all over the pages of the Talmud, this sugia is where we learn the most about Abba and his profession of bloodletting. Whereas the Bat Kol only speaks to Abaye and Rava on a weekly and yearly basis, respectively, Abba the Bloodletter receives a heavenly greeting each day. The question arises: Why the disparity? And what does Abba the Bloodletter do that affords him such a spiritual connection?

Our discussion in class took many turns. Initially, we understood that being a medical professional is a higher and more holy occupation than the academic positions held by Abaye and Rava. However, this might be a modern value, superimposing our own twentieth century hierarchy. I'm not sure we could say that medicine and health care were held in such high esteem in the third and fourth centuries as it is today. Remember, it wasn't long ago in our own country that health care and medicine were seen through a skeptic's lens, sometimes considered to be witchcraft. Additionally, the Talmud, and generations of rabbis and sages to follow, are very clear about the place of scholarship and learning in the hierarchy of professions – it's on top! So, our sugia presents something out of the ordinary: two well learned sages are greeted by God less often than a bloodletter.

Within our sugia, the questions about the disparity are noticed by the characters themselves. Halsha Datay, his mind was disturbed concerning Abba the bloodletter, our text reports of Abaye. The Gemara speaks directly to Abaye answering his concern, "You can't do what he does." Wow – what a burn! That's got to hurt. The Gemara delves deeper – what does Abba the Bloodletter do? It's at this point we would expect to learn about the intricacies of relieving swelling, evacuating cysts and other sorts of medical procedures. However, we don't learn about the medical side. It's his bedside manner that is elevated. He respects people's modesty and upholds their dignity. His billing practices are equitable and seek to not embarrass people who have less. He also sees people holistically, not just offering his specialty but ensuring that other factors like nutrition, rest, and peace of mind are achievable. According to the Talmud this is the reason for God's attention and affection. Therefore, he hears the greeting each day of Shalom Aleichem, spoken by the Bat Kol.

Practical Spirituality:

In this section we seek to offer insight and guidance into our spiritual life based on the Talmud learning in this column.

Our Kabbalat Shabbat service usually begins with the prayer Shalom Aleichem. If not said during prayer services, it is recited at our Shabbat dinner table as a preface to the blessings over wine and challah. The more conventional understanding of this song is about welcoming the Shabbat Angels (Malachai HaSharet; lit: Ministering Angels) that our Midrashic tradition says accompany us throughout our Shabbat experience. What if our Friday night prayers weren't about welcoming Angels or any other sort of mystical divine entities? Could it be that the small, still voice of God is welcoming us into our synagogues or around the Shabbat table? Does it offer us an opportunity to reflect on our week gone by, asking how we conducted our business this past week? Did we offer kindness, respect, dignity, equity, and peace to those with whom we interacted? Did we seek to go above and beyond for the people in our midst? Did we conduct ourselves in a way that would invite the Bat Kol to greet us?

May our learning be found in our hands and not just on our lips.

Peace be unto you!

—

This new column will share insights from our weekly Talmud class with Rabbi Rosenthal (Wednesdays at 5pm). Talmud classes seeks to unpack the many layers of rabbinic wisdom found in many streams of consciousness that pour into our sacred text of the Talmud. This course returns each week to a specific tractate (book) of Talmud, wading through the arguments, giving each participant a wider view of Talmudic learning. We do not just jump to the "greatest hits" but, instead, approach each sugia (thematic chapter) as imbued with wisdom and knowledge inviting us to darshan (expound upon). Join us any week and add your voice to our 2000-year conversation.

Va'era 5782 – The Burden of Kotzer Ruach

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MaNishma with Rabbi Arnold Goodman

Va'era 5782 - The Burden of Kotzer Ruach

By Rabbi Arnold M. Goodman

Therefore, say to the Children of Israel: I am Ado-nai I will bring you out from the burdens of Egypt; I will rescue you from servitude to them… I will take you for me as a people… and you shall know that I am your God who brings you… to the land over which I lifted my hand in an oath to give to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob… Moses spoke thus to the Children of Israel but they did not hearken to Moses out of kotzer ru'ach (shortness of breath, impatience or dispiritedness) and out of hard servitude (Exodus 6: 6-9).

The pshat or simple meaning is that kotzer ru'ach prevented the enslaved Israelites from "hearing" Moses' message of impending liberation. Moses' original appearance before Pharaoh was followed by a royal edict that the quota of bricks would remain the same, but the people had to gather all the raw material on their own. The community's elders then castigated and rejected Moses for providing Pharaoh with an excuse to make their lives even more bitter. The Israelites could not focus on the Divine message conveyed by Moses. Kotzer ru'ach and the abandonment of hope go hand in hand.

Pharaoh's harsh response also caused Moses to lose hope. Hence his protest to God that coming before Pharaoh worsened the people's plight. When God assured him that He will bring Pharaoh to his knees, Moses demurred, "If the Israelites will not hear me, how can You expect Pharaoh to be responsive?" Both Moses and the people were afflicted with kotzer ru'ach; neither could focus on the possibility of a soon-to-be better tomorrow.

It is now close to two years that we have been living with the burden of COVID-19 and its variants. The high hopes that the vaccine would soon bring an end to the scourge that has affected personal health, economic stability and normal and easy socialization. Zoom and other technological advances have provided but a measure of compensation for the physical separation that has prevented loved ones being at the bedside of ill family members and physically sharing occasions of both joy and grief. Our sense of impotence in dealing with the reality of the plague is heightened by the bitter rupture in our society as a vocal minority continues to resist vaccines and masks.

The sad reality is that the glimmer of light offered by medical and scientific advances is not an assurance that we will soon see the return to life as it was before COVID-19. The challenge before us in 2022 is to resist the kotzer ruach and continue to take all recommended and logical precautions. We dare not lose hope that the coming year may ultimately be a happy one.

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From the holy city of Jerusalem, my best wishes a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach, a Shabbat of peace and blessing and a wonderful and redemptive 2022.

A Moment of Torah with Rabbi Neil Sandler – Parshat Va'era

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Moment of Torah with Rabbi Neil Sandler

Parshat Va'era - Expressing Appreciation… to the Ones We May Not Consider

By Rabbi Neil Sandler

A strange thing occurs early in this week's Torah Portion, Va'era. As the narrative of our people's travails continues, God reveals God's self to Moses differently from the divine revelations to earlier Patriarchs and Matriarchs. The Holy One has heard the moaning of the Israelites and calls upon Moses and Aaron to act by delivering God's powerful words we will eventually read, "Let My People Go!"

And then the narrative stops. It will soon return to the story of Moses, Aaron, the Israelites, and Pharaoh. But, first, the Torah has something to say about the children of the Israelites' tribal leaders.

Lots of familiar words and actions amidst the Israelites' deplorable conditions in Egypt… and then a list of names, many of whom we will never see again in the Torah. Why does the Torah pick this moment to share these names? I don't know. But it occurs to me that in this moment the "Children of Israel" become something more than an anonymous group of people. Each one of these individuals has a name. Each one moans under his own burden and, paradoxically, brings benefit to Egypt through his labor. Together, these largely nameless "Children of Israel" constituted a community. And each one of them had a name, largely unknown to us or forgotten.

I encourage you to read this brief, but beautiful, column that Rabbi David Wolpe wrote about other people who, to us, may be nameless or forgotten. Together, they represent the firm structure that allows any organization, congregations included, to exist and thrive.

COVID-19 has had a significant impact on how our congregation functions, but much remains the same. Each day, a mail carrier delivers our mail. Repair people come to the synagogue to fix whatever is not working properly. Delivery people bring supplies. These people have names, but we don't know them. While each one is carrying out a job for which s/he is paid, do we ever think about the contribution that person makes to the functioning of our congregation? Numerous congregants quietly volunteer their time to make the synagogue "work" and thrive. We might recognize their names if they appeared on a list, but who are these people? Do we offer them our thanks? Some of us know the names of the members of our congregation's facility staff. They devotedly assure the well – being of our beautiful synagogue building. How often do we express our appreciation to them for their dedicated efforts?

We will never know the names of all those people who contribute to the well-being of our congregation. But the Torah's interruption of the Israelites' narrative in Egypt mentions names of people, many of whom are otherwise unknown to us among those who together comprise the "Children of Israel." Let us take a cue to remember and thank those people of our larger synagogue community, the ones whose names we know and the ones we do not know, who contribute in ways we may seldom consider.

Thank you for the part, both big and small, you play in the life of our congregation. Without you, we would not be the same. May you continue to help us thrive. Susan joins me in wishing you and your loved one's good health and well-being throughout 2022. Shabbat Shalom.

A Final Farewell

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Final Farewell

By Margo Gold

This past Sunday morning, Larry and I joined others in the main sanctuary for a last minyan there before construction begins. It is a majestic space that evokes many memories for me. I became a member of AA almost nineteen years ago when Larry and I were married. Larry was president-elect of the congregation then and I moved from the shul where I had been a president and took up residence in the pews smiling at Larry on the bimah. Little did I imagine I would one day sit there too as president. As I wrote at the time, facing west from my bimah seat while all were facing east was an incredible privilege, witnessing everyone interact within that sacred space. But this week, I was remembering the Shabbat in 2005 when I became an adult bat mitzvah. I grew up in a Conservative synagogue in Detroit much like Ahavath Achim. I participated in USY and all the youth programs, attended 12 years of religious school, and went to Jewish summer camps. But I had never experienced a Conservative congregation with an egalitarian service where women were called to the Torah and counted toward a minyan. I was thrilled when AA announced an adult bat mitzvah class and I joined three other women for a year's preparation. We learned trope, studied our shared parsha, and each prepared a D'var Torah. While in Israel that year, Larry and I purchased what I described as a 'girl tallit' (one of a size that wouldn't overwhelm me). On that special Shabbat at AA, for the first ever I put on a tallit. My son, David, and daughter, Carolyn, jointly chanted the aliyah as I (nervously) read from the Torah. Family and friends sat in the congregation beaming at me. Larry, now the AA President, presented the congregation's bat mitzvah gift. And in a moment, I'll never forget, Rabbi Sandler bestowed the priestly blessing on each of us individually, in the center of the bimah, with a personal message. Though I had watched this hundreds of times, I never knew how powerful an experience it was until I was the one receiving the blessing. Sitting there last Sunday, I relived that seminal passage in my life as a Jewish woman.

Sunday morning concluded with a processional of the Torah scrolls from the sanctuary ark to the chapel, accompanied by the children of our Kesher religious school. It aptly conveyed the life of our congregation marching on. I'm excited by the renovation of our sanctuary, the opportunity to reimagine that meaningful space in a way that will bring us together spiritually, with greater intimacy, inclusiveness, and best of all, face to face.

A Moment of Torah with Rabbi Neil Sandler – Parshat Miketz

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Moment of Torah with Rabbi Neil Sandler

Shabbat Chanukah and Rosh Chodesh – Parshat Miketz

By Rabbi Neil Sandler

More than two weeks ago, Rabbi Rosenthal called me out from the bimah. As he began to reflect on the upcoming major renovation of our sanctuary and the fate of some of our pews, he asked, "Rabbi Sandler, in how many baseball stadiums have they pulled out chairs during their renovations/demolition and sold them?" Rabbi Rosenthal apparently thinks I know such things about baseball. Maybe he also should turn to me for thoughts on old pop song lyrics… say, like "Praise You" by Fatboy Slim, a name, I'm sure that rolls off your tongue…

Here are the opening lyrics to his song, Praise You

We've come a long long way together,
Through the hard times and the good,
I have to celebrate you baby,
I have to praise you like I should

These words oddly came to mind as I thought about Joseph this week. Here was a spoiled child who earlier had lorded his future perceived power over his entire family. But amidst the threat he faces when his brothers sell him and then he spends time, Joseph goes through a metamorphosis. He is no longer entirely self – centered and reliant solely on his abilities to discern the meaning of dreams. The story of Pharoah's dreams and Joseph's interpretation of them are recounted in Chapter 41 of Parshat Miketz. Verse 25 is key to understanding the change in Joseph: "Joseph said to Pharoah, 'Pharoah's dreams are one and the same. God has told Pharoah what the Holy One is about to do." Joseph is still the interpreter of the dreams, but he now recognizes God as the source of the interpretation and their eventual fulfillment. To be sure, Joseph will eventually gain even greater power in Egypt because of his talent, but he now recognizes the undeniable origin of his dream – interpreting talent, the source that enables all of abilities, the Holy One.

Yes, Joseph has come a long way since his youth… and we must praise him as we should.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Urim Same'ach… May the remainder of our celebration of Chanukah fill our darkened times with greater light and well-being.