Wednesday, June 10, 2009

פרשת בהעלתך Light - why here, why now?

Over the past few weeks since I returned from New York, I have attended a surprising number of shivas, for friends from the shul who have lost loved ones. My aunt also passed away last week after a painful fight with cancer - another sobering experience with death and loss.
It's not always easy to pay a shiva call. Each one is different, a new wound for a different family. In most of these cases, at least three of them, the deceased was in their nineties. In these recent days I have internalized that this length and quality of life, while comforting to those who knew and loved the person, does not reduce the tragedy of the loss. Just this morning, I davened shacharit at the shiva of a very sweet man, who always greeted each and every person בסבר פנים יפות, with a cheerful smile, and never missed shul on Shabbat morning (and always asked how I was). He gave so much in his 93 years, but it was so saddening to see the grief of his wife of sixty years - she was certainly blessed with so much, but it also meant that her loss was so great.

The thoughts that have followed me after these experiences have led me to write this d'var torah. It is my hope that these words, based on this week's portion of Behaalotcha. The other day, I was reading the weekly d'var torah of Kibbutz Hadati, Israel's religious kibbutz movement. It made light of the strange placement of the opening paragraph of the Parasha. Out of the blue, after the listing of elaborate gifts given by each of the tribal leaders for the Mishkan (portable sanctuary) at the end of Prashat Naso, God commands Moshe to turn to Aaron regarding the lighting of the Menorah each day.
To the rabbis, this juxtaposition seems out of place. First of all, detailed instructions were already given regarding the lighting of the Menorah, both in Exodus 27 (Prashat Tetzave) and Leviticus 24 (Parashat Emor). Secondly, what is the connection between this instruction and the gifts given for the dedication of the Mishkan? Rashi quotes a story in Midrash Tanchuma, in which Aaron is worried after seeing all of gold and silver vessels, animal and grain sacrifices brought each day for twelve days by each tribe, with the exception of the levites. God then answers Aaron with the portion contained in the beginning of B'ha'alot'cha, saying, 'but you, Aaron, and your children will light the Menorah each and every day!'
Ramban adds to Rashi's illumination (no pun intended) by quoting an additional portion of the Midrash, as God explains why the honor of lighting the Menorah is greater than the sacrifices brought by the tribal leaders. In the words of the midrash, the sacrifices could only be offered once, but the lights would be kindled by Aaron and his descendants for all future times. This presented a difficulty for Ramban - even in the time when Midrash Tanhuma was compiled, the Second Temple had been destroyed and the Menorah was no longer kindled by the kohanim. in Ramban's own spin, he replies that although the Menorah of the Temple may no longer be in use, the Hannukkah lights kindled by Jews each year commemorate and continue the light that was promised to Aaron to be eternal.
Ramban's interpretation can be used as a beautiful and meaningful metaphor for the losses we experience. Like in Tanhuma, when Aaron was promised the eternity of the menorah in the Temple, as we live life and appreciate those we care about, we rightfully don't think about the finite nature of the time we are given to them. With the loss of the Temple, and the loss of a loved one, an irreparable loss is created - the world seems to have changed, as it fells as though a part of our life is missing. But like the transformation of the Temple lights into the Hannukah lamps, the life of a loved one has only been transformed from being imminent, into the memories that will remain with us forever. Though one light may burn out, the special quality is that as long as a flame burns, it can always light another one in an unbroken chain. Just as the Hannukah lights are not the same as those lit daily by the kohanim, there is a more than tangible loss at the death of someone dear to us. But by remembering that person's deeds, and living the values that they lived can create an eternal flame, a נר חנוכה, that will continue to be lit as long as their memory is kept alive.

May the lights of those who we have lost continue to burn brightly for us eternally.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Thank You, PrezBo, for your commitment to pluralism and diversity!

Although I did so from my couch and laptop in Toronto, I was extremely proud as a Columbia student to watch the 2009 University Commencement ceremony, which brings together graduates from all of Columbia's four undergraduate and dozen graduate schools. With over 30,000 graduates, family and friends in attendance, the ceremony takes over all of Columbia's Morningside Campus. While no individual graduates are singled out at this event (which are reserved for individual school class days), this is nevertheless a momentous occasion, as the President of the University, Lee Bollinger, officially conferred degrees on the sea of light blue caps and gowns which filled Low Plaza.
I write this short reflection to thank President Bollinger for his sensitivity to the needs of the University's Jewish students in his commitment to reschedule the 2010 commencement from its conflict with the major Jewish Holiday of Shavuot.
I believe that I speak for many observant students at Columbia when I say that my attendance at the school represents a commitment to being a part of the larger University, while staying true to my religious beliefs as well. While I am forced to miss classes for Jewish holidays, for which I often make up work or turn in assignments early, I perform this balancing act because I care about both my traditions, and my responsibilities to courses just like every other Columbia Student.
Some faculty, as stated in the report of the University Senate's Education Committee, opposed moving commencement for Shavuot for the reason that the school is a secular institution, and should not respect religious observances. On the contrary, PrezBo publicly threw his support behind the charge, stating:
“When there are a substantial number of students who have a conflict of conscience ... we want to do everything we can to accommodate that,” Bollinger said in an interview on Friday, when he first announced the change. He noted that Columbia is a secular university, which usually accommodates religious groups with makeup exams and classes, but “this is one that you can’t help people make up.”
As a well-spoken academic and public figure, Bollinger recognized his commitment to pluralism and inclusion at Columbia. The date change is not forcing anyone to mark Shavuot; rather it is giving all who wish to the opportunity to recognize and be recognized as part of the larger University.
Many argued that the date change would lead to a slippery slope; the University calendar, set ten years in advance, already lists a conflict between Commencement and Ramadan in 2018. On the contrary, changing the date for Shavuot should be a first step towards an equal commitment towards accommodating Ramadan as well.

Columbia holds a Baccalaureate service each year on the Sunday prior to Commencement. In this non-denominational service, students of all faiths are able to publicly share their engagement with their own faith traditions as a larger Columbia community. This past Sunday, Jacob Taber, a close friend of mine, spoke eloquently about how his observance of Shabbat, as a period of menucha, rest, from routine helped him to get more out of his four years at Columbia. This is a model of how religion should operate in the public sphere. All religions should be able to share their values and contribute to a more colorful discourse; no religion should be imposed or forced on any member or facet of the university.

In the book of Bemidbar, the Torah states (10:10):
וּבְיוֹם שִׂמְחַתְכֶם וּבְמוֹעֲדֵיכֶם וּבְרָאשֵׁי חָדְשֵׁיכֶם וּתְקַעְתֶּם בַּחֲצֹצְרֹת עַל עֹלֹתֵיכֶם וְעַל זִבְחֵי שַׁלְמֵיכֶם וְהָיוּ לָכֶם לְזִכָּרוֹן לִפְנֵי אֱלֹהֵיכֶם אֲנִי יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵיכֶם
And on your days of joy, and on your festivals, and new moons - you should blast trumpets on your sacrifices and peace offerings, and it shall be a remembrance before your God, I am Adonai your Lord.
Thank you, PrezBo, Hillel Staff, and others for their work in allowing us to hear both the words of the giving of the Torah on Shavuot, and the sounds of Pomp and Circumstance at University Commencement in May 2010!

For Further reading: Columbia Spectator

Friday, May 15, 2009

Take a Sabbatical, Don't Forget Your Brethren! Parashat Behar 5769

(apologies for the late timing of these words on last week's parasha. I hope that they are timely and meaningful, nonetheless)

Times of transition are always appropriate for words of Torah. The beauty of its being an עץ חיים, a tree of life, is that each parasha is imbued with a sense of vitality, containing so many dimensions that it can always be applied to the situation at hand.
As I mark the point of being half-way through my undergraduate career, and prepare to leave campus after one last Shabbat, many aspects of Parashat Behar (the first half of a double portion with B'chukkotai) speak to my place at this point in the year and in life. Before discussing its first major topic of the commandment to observe a שמיטה (sabbatical) year every seventh year and a יובל, a Jubilee, every fifty years, a four word long condition is placed: כי תבואו אל הארץ - When you come to the land. While it is always important and meaningful to learn about these mitzvot, we are reminded, even before they are detailed, that they can only be performed in the land. I take it as a personal reminder to never forget my commitment to Israel and Zionism. I hope to find a way back to Israel this coming winter. While we should certainly rejoice in our adopted homes in the Diaspora, and be thankful for all they have given us, we must never forget the holiness in the land of Israel, as well as the imperfect, but irreplacable land of Israel.
As I mentioned last week, this semester has been a busy one for me, doing some schoolwork in between Hillel, minyan, work study, other jobs and more. I would like to see this summer as a type of person Sh'mitah, with the hope that the slightly slower pace at which I can move will give me time to reflect on my priorities, and which ways I can improve my actions and interactions. While unfortunately not everyone is luck enough to receive such a long break, we can certainly all take lessons from this mitzvah of letting the land lie fallow once every seven years. As I felt at certain points during the semester, I was spending all of my time and energy on my classes, jobs, and Hillel position, and often failed to think enough of the larger world community beyond Morningside Heights, where there is so much work that needs to be done. Sometimes, we need a reminder like sh'mittah to tell us to think about our families, friends, God, Am Yisrael (the Jewish people) and Kol Yosh'vei Tevel, all the inhabitants of the world.
In the middle of Behar, the Torah transitions into another 6/7 year cycle, that of the Hebrew slave, who often sells him or herself in order to pay back a debt. We are told:
כי ימוך אחיך עמך ונמכר לך, לא תעבד בו עבודת עבד,
When your brother becomes destitude and is sold to you, do not work them as one would a slave. (Leviticus 25:39)
Vayikra Rabbah, the 5th century Palestinian midrash on Leviticus which I studied this past semester, presents a fascinating take on this verse, expanding and connecting a number of important concepts in how to treat the 'other,' reminding us how there really are people who depend on our actions to provide for them in their times of need - just as others help us up when we are down. The author uses a verse from Psalms (41:2), as a jumping off point, using it to explain our verse at hand.
אשרי משכיל אל דל, ביום רעה ימלטהו ה'
Happy is the one who is wise towards the poor/unfortunate, for God will rescue him or her on the day of evil. As it often does, the midrash is making light of the odd wording in the verse. How would someone be wise towards the poor? And Why would God not rescue someone who simply gives to those in need?
A number of rabbis are quoted, each mentioning a personality trait or action through which they are being wise towards those in need. Among the answers are: allowing one's positive inclination (יצר הטוב) to overcome their negative inclination (יצר הרע), giving charity to the poor (litterally, handing a coin to the needy/beggar), one who helps in a burial when there is noboy else to take care of the provisions, and one who visits the sick. Although the answers were given by different indivduals, I believe the common thread lies in the fact that each of these actions takes a level of discernment in how to go about it, but also can have a profound effect on the lives of others.
The themes of Sh'mittah and the needy in our midst in Parshat Behar give us important reminders about prioritizing our busy lives, urging us to step back from the craziness of our daily routines, and consider actions, some easier than others, that can enhance the lives of others as well as our own. Through this lens, we can better appreciate the message imparted at the beginning of the second half of our Parasha, Bechukkotai (Lev. 26:11-12)

ונתתי משכני בתוככם, ולא תגעל נפשי אתכם. והתהלכתי בתוככם וְהָיִיתִי לָכֶם, לֵאלֹהִים; וְאַתֶּם, תִּהְיוּ-לִי לְעָם.
I will cause my presence to dwell among you, and my soul will not despise you. And I will walk among you in your midst; I will be for you a God, and you will be my people.
When we are concious of how we spend our time and act towards others, it is possible to create a society in which God's presence is brought into our midst. This is my hope and prayer at this time of transition for so many. May it be an עת רצון, a time of favor before God and humanity.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

ונקדשתי בתוך בני ישראל - That I may be sanctified within the people of Israel - Emor 5769

Shabbat Shalom. You may notice that my divrei Torah have been somewhat sporadic this semester. While I hate making excuses, some of my distractions have been taking six classes, three at Columbia University (Music Humanities, Planet Earth (geology), History of World Migration), and three at the Jewish Theological Seminary (Bekiut Talmud (a fast-paced study of tractate Bava Batra), Midrash Vayikra Rabbah, and Classical Piyyut (liturgical poetry)). I have also been working as a Mashgiach at JTS, computerizing divorce records for the Bet Din of the Rabbinical Assembly, and serving as the Religious Life Coordinator on the Executive Board of Columbia/Barnard Hillel.
Although I have not completely finished my semester, I was moved to share some words of Torah based on a tragedy in the greater Jewish community which I was made aware of yesterday.
This week's Parasha of Emor covers many important topics, a fascinating ideathe idea of considering that many automatically assume that the book of Vayikra/Leviticus is 'boring,' and only deals with sacrifices. As was proven to me yet again while studying the midrashic collection Vayikra Rabbah, almost any lesson from the gamut of Judaism and the range of human experience.
The first large tract of the parasha is concerned with priestly regulations, but does so in the spirit of the oft-quoted maxim from Spiderman,'with great power comes great responsibility.' As the Kohanim are charged with fulfilling some of the holiest rituals and occupy a position of closeness to God, they are bound by special rules restricting whom they can marry, and a requirement to remain in ritual purity. While these laws may seem foreign and strange, there is a special meaning behind the idea of being set aside, part of the essence of holiness according to many traditional commentators.
The next major theme of Emor, occupying all of chapter 23, is the cycle of Shabbat and holidays, described thus: אלה מועדי ה' מקראי קדש אשר תקראו אתם במועדם (Leviticus 23:4) - these are the appointed times of God, holy assemblies, that you shall proclaim at their appointed time. In a fascinating rabbinic interpretation, God is announcing that the biblical holidays, commanded by divine decree, would not be observed on the day he decides, but based on the new moon declared by the Sanhedrin (supreme court) in Jerusalem. This reflects part of my philosophy when I observe mitzvot. While I do see observing these clommandments as fulfilling divine commandments, they are not without meaning, or even joy, for us in our daily lives.

Sandwiched between the priestly regulations and holidays announcements are a series of short laws (22:26ff) which begin the Torah portion read of the first two days of Sukkot and the second day of Pesach. An animal consecrated to God may not be slaughtered in the first seven days of its life, but only on the eighth day. A thanksgiving offering must be given of free-will, and can only be eaten on the day it is sacrified. In the next verses (31-32), we are told:

וּשְׁמַרְתֶּם, מִצְו‍ֹתַי, וַעֲשִׂיתֶם, אֹתָם: אֲנִי, יְהוָה.
לב וְלֹא תְחַלְּלוּ, אֶת-שֵׁם קָדְשִׁי, וְנִקְדַּשְׁתִּי, בְּתוֹךְ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל: אֲנִי יְהוָה, מְקַדִּשְׁכֶם.
And you shall keep my commandments, and do them, I am your God. And you shall not profane My holy name, but I shall be sanctified in the midst of the people of Israel, I am God who sanctifies you.
Just yesterday I was informed of a terrible accidental fire which struck a Conservative shul, Chisuk Emuna, in Harrisburg, PA. After a Shabbat dinner at the synagogue on April 3, 2009, the building caught fire, and the main sanctuary and much of the rest of the building was gutted, and some of the sifrei torah were damaged. Although God cannot be contained in a building, the sacred space of a synagogue in which a community gathers to sanctify God's name is the closest thing we have to a home for God and a focal point for the community as well. Therefore, it was distressing to hear and see pictures of the damage that was created to the structure which served as a place for this congregation to worship, celebrate, learn and mourn for decades. I encourage you to view the moving video on the blog documenting their resiliance and rebuilding: http://chisukemuna.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post_23.html . Through this video and the messages posted by their rabbi, Ron Muroff (an alum of Nativ 1!), I can tell that a warm and caring community was centered around the building that was damaged, but that community has not lost its light and strength.
Chisuk Emuna's response to the loss of their spiritual home has also been an inspirational example of sanctifying God's name. They did not miss one shabbat service or session of their religious school, and have already begun the process of rebuilding the shul. Even if I didn't have some friends from Harrisburg, a tragedy such as this affects the entire Jewish people. The Robert K. Kraft Center for Jewish Life of Columbia/Barnard Hillel, in which I am writing these words of Torah serves as a place of study, worship, and a social and communal center for hundreds of Jewish students on our campus. Because this building means so much to me, I can imagine what such a loss would be to our community.
While a community is not based on bricks and mortar, a building such as these is a focal point and holds sacred memories for those who enter its doors. Thus, I can easily imagine the pain that members of Chisuk Emuna felt at the damage to their sanctuary, and my prayers for a speedy and joyous rebuilding go to them as part of the family of אחינו כל בית ישראל, our brethren of the house of Israel. I hope that you will join with me and keep Chisuk Emuna in your thoughts, as well as render any possible assistance. May we also be inspired by their dedication to each other, Judaism, and sanctifying God's name as commanded in this week's parasha, to stregthen our own commitments to Jewish life and those around us.
Then, we will be strengthened as God's name will again be sanctified as the Jewish people come together to take care of part of our own family, for all of Israel is responsible for one another.

Shabbat Shalom!

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Better Late than never - Seminary Shabbat 5769 - Parshat Terumah

Although I meant to post this d'var Torah a few months ago, I don't think it's too late to share these words. In February, I had the honor to travel to Hillcrest Jewish Center in Queens for a Seminary Shabbat. On that week, students like me from all of the five schools at JTS traveled to Conservative synagofues across North America to teach, participate in services, and meet community members. The following is a d'var torah which I shared from the bimah at Hillcrest that Shabbat morning:

D’var Torah – Seminary Shabbat, Hillcrest Jewish Center

Shabbat Shalom! My name is Gabriel Seed, and I am a second year student in, the joint program between, List College, the undergraduate school of the Jewish Theological Seminary and Columbia University. As someone who grew up in the institutions of the Conservative movement, including Ramah and USY, it is an honor to be at a shul which is so strongly connected to the movement.

Before I share some words of Torah on this week’s Parshah of Terumah, I’d like to say a few words about myself and the background that brought me to choose JTS and Columbia. I grew up in a traditional Conservative household, and lived in a number of different communities, including Milwaukee, Cleveland, Philadelphia and Toronto, attending Jewish day schools throughout. During my high school years, I was very active in USY, participating in the USY on Wheels bus trip across the United States and Eastern Europe/Israel pilgrimage, as well as serving as the Religion/Education vice president for the Eastern Canadian region.

After graduating, I had one of the most amazing years of my life as a participant in Nativ, the Conservative movement’s pre-College year in Israel, where I spent a semester studying at the Conservative Yeshiva and the second semester working in the fields of Kibbutz En Zurim.

After so many important Jewish experiences during my childhood and adolescence, I was seeking a college where I could engage in critical Jewish learning without sacrificing a strong and serious secular education. Since arriving at JTS and Columbia, I have been able to expand my Jewish and secular learning, while at the same time finding a dynamic and supportive community outside the classroom.

This week’s Parasha, Terumah, comes immediately after the revelation at Sinai in Parashat Yitro and the giving of additional laws in last week in Mishpatim. It contains the architectural plans for the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary that would accompany the Children of Israel on their journey through the desert.

Preceding the detailed instructions for the building of the 7-branched menorah, the shulchan to hold the showbread, and the other structures of Mishkan, we are given God’s explanation why we are constructing these objects and enclosures. The core verse of this section is striking in both its simplicity and profound meaning:

ועשו לי מקדש, ושכנתי בתוכם

And you shall build me a tabernacle, so that I may dwell within it.

The idea of God dwelling among the people through their worship and gathering in God’s honor is one that did not end after the period of the Mishkan, or even after the destruction of the First and Second Temples. It continued throughout rabbinic literature and in Jewish thought until today. While a personal connection to God is important and even essential, a relationship to God is incomplete unless lived in a community of prayer, learning and caring.

This semester, I have had the pleasure of taking a Talmud course with Dr. David Kraemer, the librarian of JTS, and wonderful professor and person. We are studying the tractate Bava Kamma using a method called Bekiut, in which we cover a large number of pages of text during the semester. The topic of this particular chapter is property law, and the main discussion so far has been the obligations of those who share courtyards or property boundaries, in how to be good and fair neighbors.

In spite of this detailed legal topic, it is fascinating to read the Midrashim interspersed with this very mundane legal material. Many of these deal directly with the Mishkan, the Temple, as well as the synagogues and houses of study which have served as such essential focal points for the Jewish community, from the times of the rabbis until the present. At one point, the discussion jumps from describing the materials used in a wall dividing the courtyard, to a fascinating discussion of renovating and rebuilding synagogues, and the different issues involved therein. The rabbis bring up issues that are deeply relevant to us today as involved members of the Jewish community- concerns over fundraising and ensuring that there is always a place for the community to pray in. Shortly thereafter, we find a discussion on the obligation of partners to share in building a doorway for a courtyard and residents to subsidize a wall for a city. This topics leads into to the beautiful interpretation of a verse from song of songs. “I am a wall and my breasts are as towers” Rava interpreted : ‘a wall’ – this is the house of Israel, and ‘towers’ – these are the synagogues and study houses of the Jewish people.

Not only does Rava’s interpretation shows the centrality of the synagogue and Jewish learning in Jewish life, both in 4th century Babylonia and 21st century America. It also illustrates the mission of the five schools of JTS, and especially my study in the joint undergraduate program with Columbia University, in which I will earn a Bachelors in Talmud from the Seminary and a Bachelors in history from Columbia. Just as some of the most meaningful rabbinic sayings about Jewish living and ritual come in the midst of a mundane discussion of fences and doorposts, I am also extremely fortunate to combine the highest quality Jewish and secular educations with unparalleled opportunities to become involved in the larger community.

Over the past two years, I have had the privilege to take courses at JTS which span the gamut of the Jewish literary, legal, historical and religious experience. From studying Jewish law with Rabbi Joel Roth, a former dean of the JTS rabbinical school and past chair of the Conservative movement’s Committee on Jewish Law and Standards, Classical liturgical poetry with the renowned Ray Scheindlin as well as American history with Columbia’s provost, Alan Brinkley, my educational experience so far has been just as eclectic as is the discussion of the Talmudic rabbis.

Reinforcing the concern of our tradition for the community, I have also been privileged to have a variety of unique experiences outside the classroom. In addition to my involvement at JTS, such as working in the library, IT department, and as a mashgiach, a supervisor of Kashrut, in the Seminary cafeteria, one of my most rewarding experiences so far has been my involvement in Columbia/Barnard Hillel. I have been involved in a number of areas within Hillel, including Koach, the Conservative community on campus. This semester, I began serving as religious life coordinator on the Hillel executive board. In this position, I have had the opportunity to work with religious groups across the Jewish spectrum, help plan for the future of Hillel, and even represent the organization within the larger Columbia community, such as at a joint bible study held last week with one of the campus Christian groups.

I believe that this rabbinic world view embodied in the structure of Bava Batra is a wonderful paradigm for how we can live our lives today, engaging in the larger community and all it has to offer, while keeping institutions like JTS and our synagogues at the core of our beings. In these troubling times, Jewish learning and living can provide us with a way to give meaning and purpose to our lives through these timeless ideas that can speak to our moments of both joy and tragedy.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Appreciation: To hear the voice of His word...

[This D'var Torah is dedicated to the Refuah Shleimah of הרב ברוך אריה בן הטל, שרה ביילא בת נעמי and תמר בת שרה אמנו]
Ever since I returned to New York less than a month ago, I feel like I have been constantly busy, especially during the hectic weekdays filled with classes, assignments, work and extracurriculars. It's difficult sometimes to take a step back and appreciate the ups and downs of life, form the bad cold I have almost succeeded in fighting to the rewarding labor of being a leader in the wonderful Hillel community. One of the greatest joys in a hectic week, as I've mentioned previously, is taking time out to study Torah. Besides for my Seminary classes, which all incorporate intensive text study, I have had the pleasure each Tuesday during my Mashgiach shift to join a Chavurah, an informal study group in the teachings of the S'fat Emet, the Hassidic Rebbe of Ger on the weekly Parasha (Rabbi Yehuda Areyeh leib Alter, 1847-1905, Poland). These lessons are transcriptions of his sermons that the Rebbe gave to his community on Shabbat, and were transcribed afterwards, explaining the use of much shorthand in the Hebrew text. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I did, as we prepare to relive the revelation at Sinai this Shabbat.

שפת אמת שמות פרשת יתרו
גבורי כח עושי דברו לשמוע בקול דברו. שהקדימו נעשה לנשמע. אם כי בוודאי יש לבטוח ולהאמין כי לא יצוה הש"י רק אשר יהי' בכחם. אך כי קבלו על עצמם לזכות לשמוע ע"י המעשה. וזה הקדמת נעשה לנשמע. וזהו עושי דברו. כי הנה בכל מעשה יש כח דבר ה'. כמ"ש בדבר ה' שמים נעשו כו' כל צבאם. וכשעושין המעשים כראוי זוכין לשמוע הקול שהוא למעלה מהדיבור. כמ"ש בזוה"ק. ומובן גם לכל אדם כי הקול בפנימיות מהדיבור. שמתחלק לפרטי דברים. והנה בנ"י זכו במעשיהם וקבלת מלכותו. לשמוע קול הש"י. וזה ג"כ זכור ושמור בדיבור אחד. ומי שישנו בשמירה ישנו בזכירה. כי שמירה צריך בבחי' דיבור הנ"ל שנעלם תוך מעשה בראשית. וכפי השמירה זוכין לזכירה הוא מקום שא"צ שמירה כנ"ל:

"Valorous heroes, follwing His word, to hear the voice of His word." (Psalms 103:20). Here, just as in The Torah, 'doing' precedes 'hearing'. If this is so, then we should surely trust and believe that God would only command what is within their (the Jewish people's) ability. But thus, the people of Israele took upon themselves the merit of to 'hear' from within their actions; and this is the meaning of 'we will do' preceding 'we will hear' (Exodus 24:8), just as in Psalms it is written 'follwing his word.' For in each action is the voice of God's word, as it is written, "through God's word the heavens were created, and through the spirit of His mouth all of its creations" (Psalm 33). And when we act in the appropriate manner, we merit to hear the inner voice, which is more special than simly hearing God's word...

In the hectic nature of our lives, with work and school, friends and obligations, it is sometimes difficult to hear that inner voice. But as the peace and solace of Shabbat arrive, we should look for the deeper beauty and meaning in our actions and its holiness, and exercise that can surely be continued into the 'chol', the everyday bustle. Furthermore, these teachings do not only apply to those who feel the obligation of mitzvot and the halakhic system. There is an inner, divine voice that can be felt in any action done selflessly, with the needs of of those we love, the community and those far away in our minds and hearts.

Shabbat Shalom

Thursday, January 29, 2009

This month is for you: the calendar as a divine -human partnership החודש הזה לכם

As this current semester feels like an old friend, it's hard to believe that I returned to my home here in New York less than two weeks ago. Between my three JTS classes and my work as Religious Life Coordinator on the Executive Board of Hillel, I have been extremely busy, barely having a free moment. However, it has been great to spend so much time busy with two of my passions: studying Jewish texts, and working in the Jewish community. In each of the three classes, I have had the privilege to study in depth a different aspect of our rich literary tradition, from a survey of Masechet (tractate Bava Batra), dealing with the laws of interpersonal relations regarding property, to a study of classical Piyyut (liturgical poetry), and a study of the 5th century Palestinian midrash on Leviticus, Vayikra Rabbah.
In many of these situations, especially my activities with Hillel, have encompassed the idea of partnership, whether it is my working with leaders from across the spectrum of Judaism or grappling with the talmudic text with my chevruta (study partner). Thus, when I flipped through the collection of midrashim from Shemot Rabbah (Midrashic collection on Exodus, probably compiled as late as the 11th or 12th century), I was attracted by the following, with its focus on a partnership between Israel and God in creating and executing the Hebrew lunar calendar.



דבר אחר:
החדש הזה לכם
אמרו מלאכי השרת לפני הקדוש ברוך הוא: רבון העולם!
אימתי אתה עושה את המועדות, שכן כתיב (דניאל ד, יד): בגזירת עירין פתגמא?
אמר להם: אני ואתם מסכים, על מה שישראל גומרין ומעברין את השנה, שנאמר (תהלים נז, ג): אקרא לאלהים עליון לאל גומר עלי.
וכן הוא אומר (ויקרא כג, לז): אלה מועדי ה' מקראי קודש וגו'. אתם, בין בזמנן, בין שלא בזמנן, אין לי מועדות אלא אלו.
אמר להם הקדוש ברוך הוא לישראל: לשעבר היה בידי, שנאמר (תהלים קד, יט): עשה ירח למועדים, אבל מכאן ואילך, הרי מסורה בידכם ברשותכם, אם אמרתם הן, הן! אם אמרתם לאו, לאו! מכל מקום יהא החדש הזה לכם. ולא עוד, אלא אם בקשתם לעבר את השנה, הריני משלים עמכם, לכך כתיב: החדש הזה לכם:
Another explanation: "This month is for you [the beginning of months]" (Exodus 12:1). The Ministering Angels said before the Holy One Blessed be He: Master of the world, when are you going to set the festivals, as it is written (Daniel 4:14): "The matter is by the decree of the watchers." ?
God said to the angels: I and you agree, that Israel will complete (establish) and fix (make leap) the years, as it is written"I will call onto God on High, the Lord who acts for me." It is further written, these are the appointed times of God, to be called holy, that you should establish them at their proper times (Leviticus 23:4). Them - whether they are at the proper times or not, I have no festivals other than these.
The Holy One Blessed be He said to Israel: previously, it (establishing the calendar) was in my hands , as it is written (Psalms 104:19) "He made the moon to set the festivals.", but from here and onward, if you say 'Yes! Yes!' (we have seen the moon), or 'No! No!' (We did not see it), in either case the month is yours. And furthermore, if you choose to intercalculate the year and make it a leap year, here to I will follow with you, as it says "This month is for you!"

This Midrash, explains the relationship between God and Israel so beautifully as seen the Jewish Calendar, set up by God in order to be given as a gift to Israel, that they could take ownership of it. The rabbis wished to emphasize here that while on one hand the covenant between God and Israel is steadfast and unchanging, it is also fluid, living and two-sided; while God is our Ruler, Commander and Creator, endowing us with the holiness of the Mitzvot, He has also asked us to lead in many cases, as we paertner with Him to establish the calendar.

This lesson can also be applied quite well to our own human relationships, as we struggle in the give and take of chevrutot, or determine how to be positive leaders and role models. Sometimes we must seek assistance and advice from others, but often it is upon us to take initiative. A good leader must look closely at a situation and decide what is necessary for the moment. As a leader within Hillel, I hope to follow the example set by God with Israel, initiating programs and relationships while listening and taking in advice from those with great ideas and experience, whether they be fellow leaders, other students or staff members.

Shabbat Shalom!

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