Last Days of Pesach 5773: Mitzvah of Remembering Bitter and Sweet Together

Welcome back, precious students, it has been nearly four weeks since we were all together with Journeys and Pesach Break.  

As I sat in shul this week for the last day of Pesach my mind wandered during the festival Torah reading.  My mind was thinking ahead to the end of Pesach that night when I would be able to eat real pizza or have a real slice of cake, but the words of Torah startled me.

During the Torah reading for the last day of Pesach there is an unusual mitzvah (commandment/divine exhortation) saying “Seven days you are to eat matzah – the poor bread – as you left Egypt in a rush – le’ma’an tizkor – in order that you remember the day of your Exodus from Egypt all the days of your life.”  (Devarim 16:3.) 

A commandment to remember the Exodus, really?!?  Weren’t these the same people who actually were liberated from slavery and rescued by the parting of the Sea?  They needed a commandment to remember?  How could they have forgotten?

Think about our own lives – how easy it is to forget.

So here comes a mitzvah of remembrance precisely because we forget too easily.  Then, as my colleague Salomon Gruenwald asks, "I wondered whether we are supposed to remember the bitterness of slavery or the sweetness of freedom."  The Torah is ambiguous here. 

Like Salomon, I believe the answer is “both.” We are to remember both the bitter and the sweet.  Some of us are inclined only to remember sweet moments – others only bitter ones.  It is how some of us are wired. 

Torah comes to remind us that a full life, a meaningful life, is filled with some of each – not all bitter and not all sweet. On the last day of Pesach, Torah is reminding us to take it all in, carry forward each of our memories, don’t discard them. 

Isn’t that why during the Seder we eat Matzah, bitter herb and sweet charoset all together because our lives are blended?  The two transform each other.  The bitter is tempered by the taste of something sweet.  We are able to appreciate the sweetness more powerfully when there is something bitter with which to contrast it. 

So, precious students, as we enter the fourth quarter of the year. Take a moment to think back over the last few weeks since we all sat together. 

Take a moment to remember something from your Pesach or your break that caught you up short, that stung or hurt. Maybe it was a conversation you regret, a gesture you wish you could take back, an opportunity you let pass.  Reflect on the lesson you can learn from it going forward. 

Now take a moment to remember something from your Pesach or your break that was sweet – maybe it was a relationship renewed, or a risk you were brave enough to take, or an accomplishment that makes you smile.  Reflect on the lesson you can learn from that going forward. 

Follow the lesson of the Pesach Torah reading – remember, don’t forget, remember the bitter with the sweet, use it all in the days and weeks ahead. 

May you have a wonderful quarter – filled with lessons from moments that are bitter and delight from those that are sweet.

Terumah 5773: RABBI DAVID HARTMAN z"l and the Power to Listen Deeply

This week is all about listening.

Yesterday was Rosh Chodesh Adar – the first day of the Hebrew month Adar – a moment when we anticipate hearing laughter and joyfully listening to the Megillat Esther (the scroll of Esther) on Purim.

    Rabbi David Hartman z"l 1931 - 2013   

It was also a day when we heard news from Israel that again women were detained by police at the Kotel in Jerusalem simply because they silently wore a tallit (prayer shawl) typically worn by men.

And we heard sad news from Jerusalem about the death of one of Rabbi Ladon’s dear teachers and a teacher of mine and many others here, Rabbi David Hartman, may his memory be a blessing.

The power of listening to all this is prefigured in this week’s Torah portion, parshat Terumah.  The Torah portion amplifies an important aspect of listening when God talks with Moshe and refers to the cover of the Aron (ark) saying, “It is there that I will set My meetings with you and I will speak with you.”  (Shemot 25:22.)  Even though God could speak to Moshe from anywhere, in order for Moshe to listen he (Moshe) needed to be present in a particular place.  So it is with us, in order to listen to others we really need to be present with them. 

In a couple of weeks, while we are still in Sheloshim (the first thirty days of mourning) for Rabbi Hartman, we will read parshat Ki Tissa.  It brings another lesson about listening.  In that Torah narrative we learn that at the top of Mt. Sinai God gives Moshe two tablets inscribed by God.  As Moshe prepares to leave the mount, he experiences the camp of Israelites praying to a Golden Calf.  This angers both God and Moshe. 

When Moshe reaches the base of Mt. Sinai, Joshua who has been waiting for him there says “the sound of war is in the camp.”  (Shemot 32:17)  Moshe replies, “It is not the sound of victory or the sound of defeat, rather it is the sound of singing that I hear.”  In other words, Joshua hears noise from the camp and assumes it is a struggle.  But Moshe is discerning and listens to the people celebrating around the Golden Calf. 

Often times we just hear what is said around us and we neglect to really listen – to the tone of voice, to the intensity of speech, to the feelings that animate someone else’s voice.  We fail to authentically listen. 

The lesson that true leadership depends on listening and not just hearing was taught by my teacher of blessed memory, Dovid Hartman. 

He could listen, discern, and carefully understand what you were trying to say as well as any teacher I ever had.  He could finish your sentences for you – and often did.  He could 'hear' even more beautiful and powerful insights in your words than you were capable of expressing yourself. 

He was known around the world as a champion of diversity and pluralism within Judaism. And a champion of joyful and authentic encounters with Jewish texts and the Jewish people. 

And he often talked about how people listened to him.  After being a pulpit rabbi in Montreal for 15 years, Rabbi Hartman and his wife, Bobbie, made aliyah with their children.  Looking back on that moment Dovid would say, “I spent 15 years telling my congregation that we all should all make aliyah to Israel and when my family finally made aliyah in 1971, I looked around, saw we were the only family that had made aliyah that year.  I realized, after 15 years of talking, I was the only one who listened!” 

But Rabbi Hartman was wrong.  Philosophers, teachers, rabbis, and students have been listening to him deeply for more than 40 years.

He brought teachers and rabbis and philosophers and politicians from all different perspectives to listen to and learn from each other at Machon Hartman.  My daughter studied in hevruta with an orthodox rabbi for the first time at Machon Hartman, she wore a tallit at the Kotel with Women of the Wall on Rosh Chodesh ten years ago because of Rabbi Hartman, my own hevruta at Hartman brought together voices of a conservative rabbi, an orthodox rabbi, a reform rabbi as we struggled with text and context together. 

All because so many of us were listening to Rabbi Hartman.

Our ability to hear him is diminished by his death – but not our ability to truly listen to him.  The strength of his passion for pluralism within Judaism – the power to transform our lives by listening to and being in relationship with others – especially others whose views are different from our own.  Rabbi Hartman taught, “being is in relationship.”  There can be no being without relationship. 

So, in memory of Rabbi Hartman, and inspired by Moshe this week, I invite you to make this a week of relating to each other and to those who are important to you by going beyond merely hearing and instead to really listening to what others say and feel.

Beshalach 5773: Anticipating the Needs of Others

This week marks a significant passage from the first semester to the second.  It is a passage from the challenges and satisfactions or accomplishments that finished the first semester toward new ones in the second semester.  From moments of beginning and harvesting for both learning and relationships toward moments of deepening and extending learning and relationships.

There also are similar passages this week in the Torah portion, Beshalach, from one side of the Sea of Reeds to the other, from slavery to freedom, from silence to singing, from being rooted in one place to being on a transformative journey.   

As we embark on the journey of second semester, one passage (Shemot 13:19) moves the rabbis in Mishnah to affirm the lesson -- middah k'neged middah -- that one’s actions are rewarded measure for measure.  It is a Jewish formulation analogous to the principle of Karma. 

From the life of Miriam the sages of Mishnah learn that middah k’neged middah also applies to kindness, generosity, and good deeds (not just bad deeds).  

In that spirit, I want to share a favorite story often told by my friend Rabbi Peretz Wolf-Prusan.  It’s the story about a famous philanthropist and a poor butcher.

The butcher lived a cold, quiet life.  His butcher shop was small and had few customers.  He lived in a small apartment by himself.  One cold night he died in his sleep.

He died, as it would happen, at the exact same moment that a famous shopkeeper died. But she was surrounded by family and friends in a warm hospital room.

The famous shopkeeper and the poor butcher stood side by side at the gates of heaven and watched in amazement as dozens and dozens of cheering angels approached them. 

Then acting all as one the angels lifted the poor butcher on their shoulders and carried him away with smiles and cheers.  The rich shopkeeper was left alone with just one escorting angel – no lifting on the shoulders, no smiles, no cheers. 

The rich shopkeeper protested, “How can this be?!?  I never met that man but everyone in town knew me.  Whenever people came to ask for charity, I gave it to them.  My name is on plaques and proclamations all over the land.  But not this butcher!" 

The solitary angel escorting the woman asked, “Do the dogs bark at night in your city?” “No,” answered the woman, “in fact, they do not.”

“It is because of that one,” replied the angel and pointed to the butcher being carried on the shoulders of dozens of angels.  “The poor butcher would feed the dogs scraps of meat each night.  You gave when asked, but he gave food even before the dogs barked!"

So, my precious students, as we start a new semester together I encourage you to anticipate each other’s needs, be there for each other even before someone asks for help. Make this a school community where we act with generosity and kindness even before being asked. 

Vayeshev 5773: Tamar and Transformation; Anonymity and Shame

The biblical Tamar is a powerful character in this week’s Torah portion Vayeshev (Bereisheet 37-40).  She is an exemplar of the transformative power of being oneself and of not shaming others.

Tamar is childless and widowed - not once, but twice. Tamar’s dead husbands were the elder sons of Judah.  In order to have a child, Tamar tricks Judah by adopting a disguise, covering her face, and pretending to be an anonymous prostitute.  Not knowing it is Tamar, Judah gets Tamar pregnant. 

Judah is angered when he discovers that Tamar is pregnant, but does not yet know that Tamar was the anonymous woman with whom he slept.  In his mind, Tamar is the widow of his two elder sons, how could she be pregnant!?!   Judah’s anger prompts him to threaten Tamar. 

Tamar unmasks herself so that Judah will know the truth of who she is.  But she takes great care to unmask herself discreetly so as to not humiliate or shame Judah.  In response, Judah drops his threats and admits his error saying, “She is more righteous than I am” (Bereisheet 38:26)  Tamar is celebrated with the birth of twin sons, one of whom is identified in the Hebrew bible as a direct ancestor of King David.

Vayishlach 5773: The Fears of Jacob - Toward Framing a Personal Response to Israel and Gaza (Part 2)

Dear JCHS School Community, Thankfully in the week since we circulated the first packet of resources there is now a ceasefire in Gaza and Israel.   But several important issues and feelings remain.   I addressed some of these at the November 26 Hakhel (schoolwide community gathering each Monday).  I want to share those thoughts with you and some additional resources.   It is crucial that we speak with each other honestly and respectfully -- and that we listen to each other openly and compassionately -- if we hope to have vital conversations about Israel.   To help us do that, let me share a reminder about the goals of Israel learning at JCHS, some context from this week's Torah portion, and a glimpse at one public, sharp, and charged debate that has been trending online in recent days.   JCHS Goals for Israel Education As a Jewish educator my starting point is (often) Torah.  But before turning to this week's Torahportion, I want to be explicit about what JCHS wishes for its students in this arena -- that all students develop their own, unique and engaged relationship with Israel.  For some that may manifest itself in aligning with secular Zionists or with religious Zionists, for others it could mean aligning oneself with progressives or with their opponents.  An engaged relationship is the big goal -- but the flavor of that relationship depends on the unique vision of each student.

Vayetzei 5773: Into the Woods - Toward Framing a Personal Response to Israel and Gaza (Part 1)

November 20, 2012

Dear JCHS School Community, At the time of this writing, the conflict in Gaza and Israel continues. I spoke with the students at Hakhel on Monday about the situation and promised to distribute some materials that might inform how each of us comes to a personal response to recent events. Here are some materials that set a context with the weekly Torah, provide some background information, urge you to stand with Israel, give sources for prayers, invite you to give, and provide a range of diverse Jewish perspectives about the situation.   Into the Woods and the Weekly Torah Portion I began my words to the students by celebrating the remarkable student production of Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods, which closed its run in our theater with a sold-out Sunday matinee on November 18. Into the Woods embodies many enduring themes including our human need to be bound to others by stories and narratives and the power of community to transform our lives.  As Ms. Russell wrote in her Director's Notes for the show community is bound together through moral responsibility for each other and the support we give "each other in times of darkness and light."

Toledot 5773: A Friend is Someone Who Likes You

Friendship is so hard to define.  When I was a little boy and had a fight with the next door neighbor – Joey Skemp – my mother gave me the book “A Friend is Someone Who Likes You.”  Do you know the tiny book?

My favorite passages include:

• A friend is someone who likes you

• Sometimes you don't know who are your friends. Sometimes they are there all the time, but you walk right past them and don't notice that they like you in a special way.

• Some people have lots and lots of friends . . . and some people have quite a few friends

• And when you think you don't have any friends. Then you must stop hurrying and rushing so fast . . . and move very slowly, and look around carefully, to see someone who smiles at you in a special way

• But everyone . . . Everyone in the whole world has at least one friend.  Where did you find yours?

Friendship and brotherhood are at the heart of this week’s Torah portion.

The two are dealt with in Toledot because Judaism understands that there is not such a clear line between someone who is a true friend and someone who is family, and that the divine image in all of us precludes friends or family from being discarded when they no longer serve a specific purpose.