Va-Yeishev: Caught Between Waffles and Chains

History sometimes turns on a dime. By which I mean, you can look back at some earth-shattering, culture-defining, movement-shifting event, and find something arbitrary, minor, or seemingly insignificant that set everything in motion. It's not ALWAYS the

case, but it happens often enough that it's worth pointing out. I want to name one such moment in the Torah, found in this week's Torah portion, but before I tell you about that "dime," I want to say a word about how the text of our Torah is read, or perhaps more importantly for our purposes, how it is chanted. In case you weren't familiar with this, the Hebrew in our Torah scrolls is written without vowels OR musical notes. There is, however, a ubiquitous tradition about how the text should be vocalized, and a relatively pervasive tradition about how to sing the words and verses. I want to share with you a rare phenomenon in these musical notes, and how - in one particular instance - it is meant to highlight a split-second decision that changed the entire world.

The system that we use to chant the Torah text is called "cantillation" or "trope." There are trope-marks on essentially every word in the Bible, and not only do these marks
help us sing the text, but they indicate where commas, periods, and even exclamation points are meant to be inserted. Most of the trope are run-of-the-mill patterns that repeat, and repeat, and repeat. And then, every once in a while, we get a cantillation note that is extremely rare. Each one only appears a handful of times in the text, and they are meant to make us stop, take notice, and ideally ask "why?" The most exciting of the unusual trope-notes is called "shalshelet," which means "the chain." The longest 'ordinary' trope is called "pazer," and the shalshelet is THREE TIMES as long as the pazer! This drawn-out note only appears in FOUR instances across the Five Books of Moses, and there is a good case to be made that ours, in Genesis 39:8, is the most interesting and pivotal of them all.

Some background in a nutshell: This week, we're learning about Jacob's son, Joseph. He is a spoiled brat and a tattletale, who always gets what he wants and flaunts it in front of his brothers. (I mean no disrespect...) Not surprisingly, they turn against him

and ultimately sell him to slave traders (!). It's not a feel-good story, I'll admit, but I also maintain that Joseph grows. He learns from his mistakes and he matures over the course of time, which isn't always something we see happening in the Bible. Joseph is sold to a courtier of Pharaoh's in Egypt, and then quickly becomes a trusted servant. But then, Joseph finds himself at a crossroads: The courtier, Potiphar, has a wife who begins to make advances on Joseph. What should he do? She could be a powerful ally. Joseph could return to his old ways, take what he wants, ignore the feelings of others, and disregard the honorable thing to do. Brilliantly, the text highlights in an instant the fulcrum that appears before Joseph. An excruciatingly long, drawn-out, and rare trope mark is placed right there, on the word "Va-yee-ma-ayn" (v. 8), meaning "But he [Joseph] refused." It is almost as if you can hear him waffling back and forth. "Should I?" "Shouldn't I?" His life flashes before his eyes; he sees his past, he sees the crucial nature of this moment, and he sees the potential futures that may play out depending on what he does... ... ... ... and then, he spurns her.

Now look, this "history turning on a dime" idea is a bit tenuous. We could point to ANY moment in Joseph's life and say, "If x hadn't happened, the whole story would have been different!" If the brothers had sold him to DIFFERENT slave traders or if Pharaoh hadn't punished the cup bearer; any one change might also have shifted all of world history!! And yet, the Torah chooses to highlight this

particular moment. The writers of our text, and then the Masoretic scholars who established THE authoritative system of vocalizations and trope, wanted us to pause here, at THIS word. It is perhaps Joseph's first moral decision, his first adult determination to do what is right; and our ancestors wanted us all to praise him for it. It is a reminder to every generation of readers that sure, any decision could change the outcome of our lives. Many may even appear arbitrary or devoid of consequence. But every once in a while, a moment arises that we KNOW has greater significance. We can just FEEL that there's more meaning here, and that the implications of our choices, our statements, and our actions right now, in THIS instant, will echo far beyond the here and now. Be mindful of those opportunities. Listen for the shalshelet, the rattling chain reverberating in the background, reminding us all that standing up for what is good and right has lasting and far-reaching ramifications. Do not simply let that moment pass by; it might be more rare and fleeting than you realize.


Images in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of Robert Fairchild on Flickr
2. Image of Genesis 39:8 (highlights mine) courtesy of Sefaria.org
3. CC image courtesy of Max Pixel
4. CC image courtesy of Max Pixel

Va-Yishlach: These Hypocrites Keep Attacking Rachel

Every so often, I dedicate a blog post to a particular subject. Sadly, I have to keep reiterating this message over and over again, because the world hasn't really become any kinder to the victims of this abuse.

Especially when our Torah portion is SO relevant to this debate, I simply have to take the bait. I'm talking about abortion. Let's begin this as bluntly as I can: The Torah does NOT oppose abortions. The Bible is NOT a pro-life document. Proof texts that are offered in abortion debates are tenuous and circumstantial AT BEST. Religious groups that oppose abortion hijack the Bible for their own purposes, and they twist and contort the ancient words to justify their behavior. But there is a hypocrisy underlying their behavior. It is blatant, and it is outrageous. Now, our parashah this week doesn't speak directly to this issue, but it's pretty close. Does that mean I'm manipulating the text to fit MY agenda? Well, I'll let you be the judge of that...

Our ancestor, Jacob, has four wives. Each wife has been able to produce offspring, so by the time we get to our reading, Jacob's got quite the little clan building.
Leah has six sons and a daughter, Bilhah has a couple of boys and so does Zilpah... and after many agonizing years of trying, Rachel FINALLY has a single son, Joseph. Then, as our reading begins, she is once again pregnant, but things are not going so smoothly. This pregnancy has complications, and we're told she has "hard labor" (Gen. 35:16). Luckily (I suppose...), she has a midwife with her, who is helping her through the pain. I cannot even imagine what she is enduring, and as the agony reaches its height, this "helpful" midwife decides to offer Rachel a nugget of wisdom and encouragement: "Have no fear, for you are having another son!" (v. 17) Maybe it's just me, but I find it hard to imagine Rachel's excruciating misery was alleviated by this "joyous" news.

Tragically, our story does not end well. Rachel dies in childbirth. This should surely be the worst part of the saga, but I am also infuriated by the next two verses. First, the Torah tells us that with her dying breath she named her son "Ben-Oni," which means "son of my sorrow." Ok, I'll admit, it isn't

a great name, but surely it's understandable. In that very same verse, Jacob overrides her selection, changes his name, and he is forever known as Benjamin. So much for last wishes... Then, to add final insult to continuous injury, Rachel is buried on the side of the road; the only matriarch left out of the family tomb, where Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Rebecca, Jacob AND Leah are buried. My point in sharing all of these details is to highlight how insignificant the mother was in ancient society. She's the one producing human life out of her body, but she doesn't get to name him AND she's buried along the highway. Even her supportive midwife exclaims: "You may be dying, but cheer up; you're having a boy!"

Dear readers, I hope this story outrages you. Please, please tell me you hate what happens to Rachel! Because women are being treated like her throughout the world, and most definitely here in the United States. Women are having their rights stolen from them constantly. Pro-life groups seem to have absolutely NO regard for what these women are going through; the pain, emotional stress, guilt, and shame.

Not only is it callous and cruel, it's actually hypocritical as well. Just yesterday, a federal judge in Mississippi struck down a law that would have restricted women's rights even more. In his ruling, the judge cited the state's high infant mortality statistics and noted that Mississippi has not expanded Medicaid. In other words, if these legislators and advocacy groups are SO concerned about preserving life, what are they doing about infant deaths or women's access to healthcare??? Why expend all their efforts attacking these vulnerable women, rather than dedicating time to helping, healing, and comforting?!? It truly boggles my mind. If a story like the one in Genesis bothers us AT ALL, we have to act. Because Rachel's plight is sadly not unique. It isn't an ancient predicament either; it is very real today. As a religious professional, I cannot abide by someone co-opting my Scripture and abusing people with it. They are wrong, plain and simple. We cannot let Rachel's memory continue to be trampled on; we all must do our part to reject this damaging narrative. I hope you will join me.


Images in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of daihung on Flickr
2. CC image courtesy of Pexels
3. CC image courtesy of Jim Champion on Wikimedia Commons
4. CC image courtesy of Fibonacci Blue on Wikimedia Commons

Va-Yeitzei: It's All About the Destination... Right?

It’s funny to me how we disregard clichés. I know they can seem trite, hokey, or overused… but often the whole reason they ARE clichés is because their sentiments

ring true! Yet, even when we acknowledge their wisdom, we just do NOT want to learn their essential lessons. Take, for example, the phrase (stated in a myriad different ways): It’s not the destination that counts, it's the journey. A Bat Mitzvah student at Ohev recently focused her whole (terrific) D’var Torah on this concept. We’ve heard it countless times, it makes a lot of sense… and yet, we often struggle to live by it anyway. Why?

Our Torah portion, Va-Yeitzei, is essentially one, drawn-out, decades-long, dramatic odyssey. To really ensure that you, the reader, know this, the Torah includes a subtle, clever bookend on either side of

the journey. The second verse of our entire parashah states, "He [Jacob, fleeing from his brother, Esau] came upon a certain place and stopped there for the night, for the sun had set." (Gen. 28:11) Then, in the very next verse, he has his famous dream, in which angels are going up and down a ladder that reaches from earth all the way up to heaven. Jacob begins his long journey to find his uncle, Laban. He arrives, becomes a successful sheep herder, acquires four wives, has twelve children, and eventually escapes Laban's greedy clutches and makes his way back to his birthplace. There, as the Torah portion ends, we read: "Early in the morning, Laban kissed his sons and daughters farewell, and he blessed them; then Laban left on his journey homeward. Jacob went on his way, and angels of God encountered him." (32:1-2) Do you see it? Did you catch the bookends?

As the central adventure of his life begins, Jacob experiences the presence of angels, and then, when he's ready to return home, there they are again! Furthermore, the narrative mentions night falling at the start of our reading. One might say, Jacob is

entering a "dark" period in his life, where he's trapped under the glum shadow of Laban and his heretical family. The proverbial "sun" only rises again when Jacob returns home, stepping once more into the "light" of his safe, trustworthy, monotheistic, loving family (leaving aside, for now, all the drama that forced Jacob to flee in the first place...). My point in highlighting all of this is that we sometimes see the "bad" times in Jacob's life as unfortunate, wishing he could have avoided them entirely. But would he be the same guy without all those experiences? Are hardships and challenges something we try to avoid, or do they perhaps form us and make us more resilient, appreciative of the good times, and better situated to survive and thrive?

I imagine Jacob felt pretty alone when he began this excursion. Yet the Torah reminds us that angels were there accompanying him at the start AND the end of his journey, and likely throughout as well.

Sometimes when we struggle, we actually feel GREATER spiritual connection, and certainly many of us feel MORE love and caring from those around us. Often, in life, we look at the result of something to determine if it was good or bad, worthwhile or ultimately pointless. Take, for instance, an election. Is the only metric for determining success whether a candidate won? Or might the journey - the motivation, the enthusiasm, the activism, and all the OTHER things that were generated as well - have been meaningful regardless of the end result? I know it's a cliché. And if we think about it, we probably believe we already know its words to be true. But I think in our lived experience, we often still obsess about the end result, the final verdict, and the ultimate outcome. So just keep it in mind, and spend a little time appreciating the journey too, ok? You're welcome. :-)

Images in this blog post:

1. CC image courtesy of nagarajan_kanna on Flickr

2. CC image of Michael Willmann's painting "Jacob's Ladder" (1691), courtesy of Wikipedia

3. CC image courtesy of Sean Loyless on Flickr

4. CC image courtesy of pennstatenews on Flickr

Chayei Sarah: It's Time to Water Some Camels

My, my, what a week we have had. It seems like a LONG time ago that I last wrote a post, even though it has only been seven days. The world looks different on the

other side of the tragic attack on Congregation Tree of Life in Pittsburgh. According to the ADL, this was the deadliest assault on the Jewish community in America's history. So now what? How do we make sense of what is happening in our country; the proliferation of guns without serious regulation, the increasingly racist rhetoric that is not denounced at the highest levels of government, and a divisive national discourse where each side sees the other as The Enemy, jeopardizing the future of our way of life? What do we do now? Honestly, I do not hold answers. I don't know either. I simply offer a few thoughts.

There is a strong Jewish tradition of looking to our heritage and our texts, when we are otherwise at a loss for words. Again, not for answers - at least not of the "yes" or "no" variety - but to see how others handled adversity and challenge in the past,
to give us strength and courage to face our own predicaments today. Our parashah is all about one, long journey. Abraham sends a servant to find a wife for his son, Isaac, because he doesn't want Isaac to marry one of the idolatrous Canaanites living around them. When the servant arrives in Abraham's home town, a young woman by a well offers him a drink of water. Then, she also rushes to water the servant's many camels, which (if you know anything about camels...) is actually an exhaustive task!! (P.s. ONE camel can drink 53 gallons of water in three minutes!!!) The servant realizes this girl, Rebecca, is the one he's looking for, and he convinces her family to let her return to Canaan to marry Isaac. Sooo, why am I telling you all this?

This isn't spelled out in the text, but I think Rebecca desperately wanted to leave. Her brother, Laban, was the head of her household, and he was kind of a scoundrel. Many things in the text hint at her desire to flee, and she was able to achieve this through acts of genuine kindness and consideration. She took

great care of this traveler, when she had NO obligation to do so for a stranger, an outsider, a servant. In the context of our lives today, I suggest that we learn from Rebecca's example that if we want to affect REAL change, we have to do so with REAL acts of altruism for other people. This can be counter-intuitive. When we feel scared and attacked, something inside us wants to just curl up or bolt the door; care for our own and abandon any project that was for someone else's benefit. But we must RESIST that urge!! Now is precisely the time to care for the poor, the orphan, and the widow in our society; perhaps today we might extend those same kindnesses to the refugees, the undocumented immigrants, the Muslims, the LGBTQ (and perhaps most specifically the transgender community), African-Americans, and all others who face oppression. Our heads may say we need to care for our own... but our hearts know the answer lies in the exact opposite behavior.

Our Torah portion ends with an inconspicuous scene, easily missed if one isn't reading carefully. After Abraham dies, his sons come together to bury their father (Gen. 25:9). Seems simple enough, right? But Ishmael was banished YEARS earlier, together with his mother, Hagar! Somewhere along the way, Ishmael and Isaac reunited, and they were able to share this precious moment of togetherness
and peace with their father. The text doesn't tell us when, but here we see the fruits of their labor. And the proof is in a tangible, physical, lasting act that they perform as one; the burying of a loved one. We are often tempted to offer condolences, a hug, a word of support, a tear, or a demonstrative gesture of solidarity. That is not enough. It is greatly appreciated, but more is needed. This situation is too urgent, the stakes too high. A simple, subtle gesture won't suffice. We need to act. We need to extend ourselves beyond what is comfortable, as Rebecca did watering all those thirsty camels. Our actions will speak volumes beyond mere words, and now more than ever before, we Jews must unite with others in our shared community and work to manifest the change we so desperately need. The ADL used to employ a powerful slogan, "Never Again!" Right now, on their website, they have shifted to something even more crucial, directed at each and every one of us: "Never is Now."


Images in this blog post:
1. Image from Tree of Life * Or L'Simchah Congregation
2. CC image courtesy of pxhere.com
3. CC image courtesy of Stemya on pixabay.com
4. CC image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

L'Chaim - November, 2018: Take Israel OFF Your Bucket List!

By the time you read this, I will have returned from our latest synagogue trip to Israel, so I’d like to tell you about it… the only problem is, I wrote this article back in early October. So I can’t yet tell you much (right now) about how the trip went, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say it was amazing. If you were on the trip with me, and you’re thinking of one day/memory/experience that was your favorite, believe it or not, that was my favorite too! Wow, what are the odds, huh? Weird…

This latest odyssey was my THIRD trip with Ohev Shalom. I feel so, so blessed to have led three separate Israel-experiences, and to have created a sense of community and shared memories with three different groups of wonderful people. I especially want to thank Alan Schapire, Karen Stesis, and Louis Stesis for doing nearly ALL the planning for this trip. It truly, truly would not have happened without them. THANK YOU!!!

I also want to highlight the theme of our itinerary, “Into the Desert.” We began our tour in Tel Aviv, then went south into the Negev and Arava deserts, across the border into Petra in Jordan (which is considered one of the Ancient Wonders of The World), back north to Masada, then finishing up in Jerusalem. My goal was very simple: To convey to both the participants AND to the whole congregation that Israel is more than just a bucket-list destination. If you’ve never been; I’d LOVE for your first time to be with Ohev Shalom! But if you’ve been once, or even several times, I STILL hope you’ll consider going again. It really shouldn’t just be a bucket-list kind of destination…

Israel is so central to us as Jews; historically, culturally, theologically, and emotionally. Do we also struggle with its current government and the oppressive practices of the orthodox rabbinate? Many of us do. If you were at Ohev during the High Holidays (or read my sermon online), you know already that I, personally, very much grapple with these issues. But I implore you to separate the State of Israel from the Land of Israel, and even from the People of Israel. If/when we disagree with politics here in the US, we certainly don’t want the world to judge us by our government; so why should we behave that way towards Israel?

I have been to Israel many, many times. And I don’t ever plan to stop going. Even as the politics get more divisive, my certainty about that point will not waver. That is, in large part, why I craft itineraries with a special focus. To remind us all that Israel has many dimensions, facets, complexities, and layers. We’ve done a family trip, a food tour, and now a desert excursion. I also want to do a tour with the theme, “The Ten Places You’ve Never Been To, but Which Every Tour Guide Wishes You’d See.” I also wonder if there is enough interest for a trip centered on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, where we visit both sides of the Green Line? I’ve also discussed the possibility of joint trips with my colleagues in our local Interfaith Council. So yeah, I haven’t run out of ideas just yet…

I truly feel blessed to have done this three times, and I hope that many more visits to Israel await us. Please check out our pictures from the trip, our daily blog, and ask participants how it went. And then… start thinking about what you’re doing in another three years (or six or nine or…), and let’s start planning!

Nesiah Ha-bah Birushalayim - Next Trip [see you] in Jerusalem!

Rabbi Gerber