Loners, Unite! (Chayei Sarah 5775)

The first mention of romantic love in the Torah occurs this week in Chayei Sarah.  As the Torah narrative transitions from Sarah and Abraham to Rebecca and Issac, we are told that when Rebecca and Isaac encounter each other for the first time, their first reaction is one of humility and mutual respect.

Then after a rapid courtship that involves only a single deep encounter they marry.  And only after they marry, in an order that seems inverted, are we told Isaac loves Rebecca. (Genesis 24:65-67).  The ancient lesson seems to be that authentic love blossoms from a real encounter, an authentic relationship between partners. Not the other way around. Love at first sight is for fairy tales.  But real love more often is the product of mutual respect, shared encounter, and authentic relationship. 

In that spirit, a story about the power of loners uniting.  Once upon a time there were two strangers living on opposite sides of the same village.  Isaac was a peddler whose wagon traversed the west side of the village; Rebecca was the peddler on the east side.  They knew of each other but never really met.  One day each Rebecca decided to take her wagon to the neighboring village to expand her sales.  She loaded up her wagon with fabrics and pots and tools of all sorts.  That same day Isaac decided to to the same thing.  He loaded up his wagon with fabrics and pots and tools of all sorts.  

Loners, Unite!

There's Something Bigger Than Phil: A Patriarch's Lesson in Pluralism (Vayeira 5775)

Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner
©Robert Trachtenberg

If you grew up listening to recordings of the fictional Two-Thousand Year Old Man (TYOM), as I did, then you already know the story that sets-up the punchline, "There's something bigger than Phil!"  

The TYOM is the invention of comedians Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner.  They imagined what it would be like to interview someone who was over 2,000 years old.  One part of their sketch involves the start of religion.  Reiner playing the interviewer asks Brooks playing the TYOM whether he was alive before people believed in God. "Oh, yeah, a few years before," answered TYOM.  

"Did you believe in anything?  Did you believe in any Superior Being?"  "Yes!  A guy named Phil!" replied TYOM  

"Who was Phil?" "Phillip.  The leader.  The leader of our tribe.  He was very big. Very strong.  A big beard, big chest, big arms.  I mean, he could kill you.  So, we did everything he asked.  He could just walk on you and you could die."

"And you revered him?"  TYOM answered, "We prayed to him.  Would you like to hear one of our prayers to Phillip?" "Yes, we would."

TYOM then recited one of the "ancient" prayers, "Ohhhh, Phillip.  Ohhhh Phillip. Please don't take our eyes out and don't pinch us and don't hurt us.  Ohhh Phillip, don't step on us.  Leave us alone.  Ohhhhhh Phillip.  Aaaaaaamen!" 

"How long was his reign?"  "Oh, not too long.  Because one day Phillip was hit by lightning.  And we looked up, we said . . . 'There's something bigger than Phil!'"

Noah and a Pair of Lions: Its Not What You Think (Noach 5775)

(c) Paul Goldstein as featured in Daily Mail

This summer we took our niece and nephew to the zoo. She was fascinated by a lioness carrying a cub in her mouth. Which brought to mind a folktale about mothers carrying their young.

Once there was a lioness teaching her very young cub how to walk. As the cub builds some muscles, the lion watches over the cub, walks alongside the cub, keeps the cub from falling into gullies or stepping on snakes. "I will teach you how to walk in the world. Stay by me," she said. Wherever they went, the lioness and the cub walked together - side by side.

As the cub grew into the next season it comes time for the pride to cross from one plain to another across a wide river. But the river was too deep and too

From 'Why me?' to 'Why not me?' (Yom Kippur 5775)

This is the season for reflection and transformation. For some of us reflecting on the year that has just ended it is tempting to cry out, "Why me?" The accumulated weight of a year's worth of challenges and disappointments, of sadnesses or tragedies seems too much to bear. "Why me? Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this?"  

For some our enduring ability to nurse grievances or "pick-at-the-scab" of hurts blocks our path forward in the coming year.  Our preoccupation with disappointment can be a barrier to transformation at this season.  

This end-of-year dilemma is reflected this year in the end-of-life drama of Moses in the Torah portion we read in the week leading up to Yom Kippur, V'zot Habrachah.  [Note: The portion is read during this week but not on Shabbat because Yom Kippur, which coincides with Shabbat this year, has its own special Torah readings.]

A Season of White Ribbons (Rosh Hashanah 5775)

As we turn the corner from the end of one Jewish year toward the opening of a new one it is a time for seeing and reflecting on our lives with clarity; and for seeking and offering forgiveness.

At the Jewish Community High School of the Bay (JCHS) Shabbaton last weekend, I led a guided meditation about reflection and forgiveness opening with the following story.*   

Link to Photo Credit

A teacher boards a train for an overnight trip.  She takes the first open aisle seat finding herself seated next to a young woman at the window.  The teacher turns to introduce herself to the girl but the girl is looking away. She is intently staring out the window.  She looks tense and anxious.  The teacher wonders to herself, "How old is this girl? Sixteen? Seventeen? And that look on her face -- what is it?  Fear?   Shame?"

As the train moves through the night the girl keeps staring out the window -- seemingly oblivious to anything or anyone in the train.  The teacher sees the girl drop her head against the window as her hands clench the ledge. She quietly begins to cry.  The teacher hands some tissues to the girl.  After a long time the girl turns to the teacher asking, "do you know what time we arrive in Greenville?"

Mind the Gap: Somewhere Between Justice and Mercy (Nitzavim 5774)

The first of this week's two Torah portions includes dire warnings to those who ignore rules of conduct.  In that sense, it is a declaration of strict justice. Yet the parsha also includes seeds of mercy -- of being judged not strictly but rather with kindness and compassion.

For example, we learn here that no matter how large a gap there is between the goals we set for ourselves or no matter how large a gap there is between us and God, or matter how far we stray . . . even from there we will be redeemed, restored, or taken back.  (Deut. 30:4)  

What a powerful message for this time of year -- the end of one year and the beginning of the next.  Sometimes we look back with regret over the gap between our goals and our accomplishments, the gap between our generosity and our selfishness, or the gap between our kindness and our anger, or the gap between justice and mercy.  

These gaps are chronic; they will always be there.  Torah reminds of this when it promises we will be redeemed no matter how big, in effect, the gap becomes. 

The Memory Twins of Cynicism: Blot-Out and Don't-Forget (Ki Teitzei 5774)

As the father of twins, I tend to collect twin stories. One of my favorites is based on a 20th century midrash from Rabbi Y. M. Tukachinsky (Lithuania and Israel). The story involves a pair of twins still in the womb where they are completely nourished and cared for. They have all they need; they lack nothing.

In the secure seclusion of their womb, they begin anticipating the birth that approaches. One of the twins expresses anxiety and worry about the future. The other is excited and hopeful.  

The worried twin imagines the end of this secure time will be a catastrophe; he will be deprived of all he knows and all he needs. He enjoys that the world of the womb is predictable, closed and complete.   

By contrast, the hopeful twin imagines the start of an adventurous new life outside that will create opportunities to learn and grow beyond her wildest dreams. She is excited to