TERUMAH 5777
THE LA LA LAND OF CHERUBIM
March 2, 2017
4 Adar 5777
The recent Academy Awards will be long remembered for the gaffe in which La La Land was first awarded the coveted Oscar, only to learn that the prize was going to Moonlight. While La La Land did not win the award, it is nonetheless a wonderful film that explores the love between Mia, an aspiring actress and Sebastian, a struggling jazz pianist.
The relationship between Mia and Sebastian reminded me of the cherubim that are introduced in this week's Torah portion. The Torah gives us no description of their likeness. Cherubim are simply referred to as figures placed upon the Holy Ark who were to be turned to one another. During the course of the centuries cherubim were depicted as either angelic figures or innocent children. Thus one definition of cherub is a child with a sweet, chubby and innocent face. Sforno, a Medieval Biblical commentator, portrays them as a male and female who longingly gaze at one another. Physically separated they sadly do not embrace, thereby symbolizing unfulfilled love. Their faces reveal their deep feelings for the other, but they somehow fail to connect and their love remains unrequited.
La La land explores this universal frustration. (Spoiler alert—if you have not yet seen La La Land and want to be surprised by it, stop reading now!) Mia and Sebastian love one another. Yet deep within each was the desire to excel in their chosen careers. Sebastian's break occurs when he agrees to join a jazz combo that takes him on the road for weeks at a time. Mia's opportunity occurs when she is offered the star role in a play to be performed in Paris. Their lives thus take them in separate directions thereby inevitably compromising their love.
The movie concludes with a scene in their lives five years later. Mia is now an established and famous actress married to David with whom she has a child. One evening Mia and her husband enter into a jazz bar owned by Sebastian. The former lovers wistfully look at one another as a dream scene unfolds in which they have built their lives with each other. The dream ends, and as Mia and David leave, she and Sebastian cast a final look at one another and once again go their separate ways.
La La land is far more than a successful musical. Unfulfilled love is a recurring reality in many lives. Both Mia and Sebastian make the decision to place their careers before their love. Perhaps they believed they could somehow hold on to both, but it was not to be. Love must be nurtured for it to truly blossom and nurture us. It must be given the highest priority. Love requires that we go one step further than the cherubim; our loving gaze must impel us to hold on to one another, to embrace each other and to remain physically connected.
All too often the drive for personal fulfillment; the possibility of great riches; the opportunity to acquire fame and recognition take priority over nurturing love. This distraction need not require living apart from one another; it can occur even when residing in the same house. The partner who becomes so involved in his job or profession that she places it before family and spouse, is there but not really there. The partner who becomes so involved in his/her own life and activities and becomes less and less attentive to dear ones is there but not really there. All too many loves atrophy because of deflected attentions and relentless competition for our time, our dedication, our love.
This phenomenon of frustrated love has its counterpart in our relationship with God. Over and again we have chanted the verse, "You shall love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, soul and might." Few of us deny a love for God, yet we permit other interests and desires to separate us from engaging in a fulfilling Divine-human embrace. We know that love of God demands not only prayer but also embracing a core of values based on the innate worth of every human being, yet we knowingly spurn those who turn to us in their moment of need. We turn our backs to strangers. We compromise our morality for immediate gain. Like Mia and Sebastian who willingly decided not to make of their love their first priority, we are willing all too often to follow a path of least resistance and compromise moral values that we happily embrace – but all too often only in words.
May we all find love in our lives and once attained, let us cherish this blessing as the treasure that it is. True love demands more than simply gazing at our loved one; it requires the physical contact that provides the underpinning of our emotional strength and psychic well-being. Unrequited love is in its own way living in a La La Land of our own making.
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From Jerusalem, my best wishes for a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach– a Shabbat of peace and of blessing.
Rabbi Arnold M. Goodman
MISHPATIM SHABBAT SHEKALIM 5777
EXCEEDING THE BOUNDS OF THE LAW
February 23, 2017
27 Shevat 5777
If the thief is found tunneling at night and he is beaten to death by the householder, there is no bloodguilt. If the sun has risen then there is bloodguilt [Exodus 23: 1,2].
In the first instance the Torah permits the householder to take what action he deems necessary to protect his family and himself from a night time intruder. A possible threat to one's safety legitimates the most extreme response.
This principle is also embodied in the Common Law: Despite the value placed on human life, we are permitted to take the life of one who we reasonably believe poses a real threat to our safety and our survival. How far can we take this principle from the Torah and Common Law? May we disregard the law when the threat is not to our life but to our convenience, our comfort, our well being, our health?
Consider the following scenario. Some years ago I was one of four Rabbis and one doctor (call him B) driving from Philadelphia to New York during a heavy snowfall, to connect with an El Al flight to Israel. Periodic calls to the airline confirmed that the flight would leave as planned so we started on our way. We finally reached New York and entered the Southbound Parkway toward JFK. By this time the snow and the wind had created blizzard conditions, and the radio soon informed us that the airport was closed and all air traffic was suspended.
On the highway we were soon mired in bumper to bumper traffic that was virtually standstill. Approaching an exit ramp we decided to leave the Parkway and find a motel for the night. Our car, however, was positioned in the far left lane and it was impossible to move to the right to access the exit ramp.
It was clear, that with traffic ground to a halt, and the car running out of fuel, the heater would stop working, and we would find ourselves in a stalled and very cold auto. Remaining for an extended time in a cold environment would be, at the least, terribly uncomfortable and at worst, could result in severe respiratory illness. Speaking as a doctor, B, insisted that remaining in the car posed a real health hazard.
Doctor B also noted that traffic was light on the highway in the adjacent Northbound lane, on the other side of the median, and by crossing over it we would be very close to an exit ramp. My colleagues and I insisted that crossing the median was clearly illegal. B, however, was not to be denied. His argument did make sense and while he remained at the wheel four Rabbis exerted great effort to push the car, partially buried in snow, over the median into incoming traffic.
Regrettably, we could not get over to the right to use the exit ramp. B, however, was nonplussed and exited the parkway via the entrance ramp. We were aghast at this very dangerous maneuver, but B nonchalantly commented that due to the storm, there was no incoming traffic. We couldn't shake the thought, however, that this greater violation of traffic law, could have resulted in a head on collision.
Once out of the Parkway, we made our way to a nearby motel and secured three of the last vacant rooms where we stayed for two nights until flights resumed on Tuesday.
Was taking the law in our own hands justified? We debated this among ourselves, even as we were aware that hundreds of cars were stranded on the highway overnight and longer. Many motorists actually spent the night in their very cold autos.
Given the Rabbinic dictum that when faced with a sha'at ha'd'chak, a true emergency, the stricture of illegality may – in fact, must be – ignored, we were free to take action, to neutralize the imminent danger.
Yet, what if more and more cars were to follow suit and cross the median and attempt to exit via the entrance ramp? What if it were not a snow-caused jam, but one of those slowdowns that plague drivers on highways? Is there a tipping point where we can justify taking the law in our own hands?
What might be the criteria to justify this step? Where it is a clear case of preserving life, taking otherwise illegal action is not only acceptable but accepted. Truth to tell, however, there are often no objective standards, and we become our own arbiters of deciding the correct response in such situations.
On that snowy afternoon in New York, Doctor B insisted that his extralegal actions were not only justified, but in keeping within the exigencies of the moment. Yet, is a risk to health or a desire for convenience ever a justification to do what is right in our own eyes? The very process of living creates such situations that plunge us into a quandary.
As we struggle to determine the correct response, the moral response, the responsible response, we do well to recognize that being endowed with the capacity to choose right from wrong is a blessing. When faced with such choices, the appropriate prayer is from the pen of the Psalmist, "May the works of our hands be acceptable to You O God," but not only to Him but to others as well.
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From Jerusalem, my best wishes for a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach– a Shabbat of peace and of blessing.
Rabbi Arnold M. Goodman
