Rabbi’s Corner (Beth El, Edison): Ki Tavo, 5786 - Let’s Try That a Different Way

Can you feel that? I sure can. They’re almost here. Just a few, short days left, and they’ll be upon us. The sound of the shofar is getting louder and louder… That’s right; it’s the High Holiday season! For rabbis and Jewish communities everywhere, this is the most important time of the year. In my opinion, we stress out so much and feel all this anxiety… because we want people to care about their Judaism. We want this all to matter. With that in mind, one question keeps popping back into my head as I read this week’s parashah: how do we get people to buy in? How can you facilitate someone's Jewish journey, creating a positive and meaningful, fun yet educational, spiritual and historic, modern yet traditional, specific but not exclusionary, amazing Jewish experience??? Piece of cake, right? That may be the goal, we're just not always sure how to get there. Sometimes we think we know. We know the approach we're going to take, and we know the SWBAT's (Students Will Be Able To. Thank you, MA in Jewish Education...) that we want to achieve, but there are no guarantees. It's frustrating. BUT, it's also nice to know that God and Moses struggled with the very same issues.

Our Torah reading highlights different approaches that Moses and God took in order to get the Israelites to subscribe to The New Exodus Agenda (my title). The people are at the border of the Promised Land. The goal is “simple”: Get in there, sweep away idolatry, create a country with new cities and towns, build a Temple, and establish a new religion, culture, and society. Yikes! Understandably, you need people to subscribe to your philosophy, and get really excited about it, or this enterprise is going to be awfully short-lived... Many years ago, I read a wonderful Torah commentary by Shira Epstein, a professor in Jewish Education (and former teacher of mine) at JTS, the Jewish Theological Seminary, in New York. Dr. Epstein points out different "modalities," ways to educate, that are used in our parashah. Moses goes back and forth between praising, admonishing, teaching, preaching, and encouraging the people to feel connected. They are given "activities" and assignments to strengthen their connection to God and the land, and they are chastised for bad behavior they may be tempted to engage in sometime in the future. Dr. Epstein writes, "each of the activities Moshe describes is what educators might view as a 'scaffold' to help the people ultimately feel invested in both venerating their lineage and their land, and thus, preserving the laws that guide their everyday communal practices." 

Our biggest problem with this Torah portion, however, is the lengthy list of curses, known as the Tochecha, or Rebuke, that Moses launches against the people. What kind of an educational model is that, yelling and (literally) cursing at them?!? However, as any parent or teacher will tell you, there's the ideal model... and there's reality. Like stubborn and insolent children, the Israelites only occasionally respond to reward and encouragement; sometimes they also need reprimands and a timeout in the corner. Just like with parenting, we often have comments and "helpful" suggestions for *other* parents; we just never want that well-intentioned advice ourselves! It's easy for us to judge how Moses handles the Israelites, and to point out the flaws in his leadership style. As we get closer and closer to the High Holidays, let's not forget to look back at ourselves, and the relationships we've created with our own children, students, and peers. Or even parents, teachers, and colleagues. Imagine for a minute how hard it would be if you yourself were in Moses' sandals!

Instead, let's put aside the judgment, yet hold onto the underlying lesson: How do you create buy-in? What gets someone excited and enthusiastic, and how do you empower him or her to take ownership? These were the questions facing Moses and God, and they continue to challenge us to this day. Wrestling with this challenge does remind us we're still on the journey, and we're still engaging with Judaism and caring about the next generation. And that truly is half the battle right there.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi’s Corner (Congregation Beth El) - Ki Teitzei, 5785

 Ki Teitzei: A Welcoming Way To Help Yourself

Why do we offer help? If and when we step outside of our own little universes, and we extend a hand to make someone else's life a little easier; why do we do it? Is it for reward or praise? So that someone else will see how righteous, kind, and selfless we are? In the field of Anthropology, there is a constant debate about the subject of altruism; can you ever help another purely for selfless reasons, or is there always some underlying personal benefit that you hope or expect to get out of it? This subject is touched upon in our Torah portion this week, but perhaps more importantly, it is something we all should consider in this month of Elul; the month preceding the High Holiday season.

Our parashah, Ki Teitzei, continues the theme from last week, listing various laws that govern society. One, small section talks about harvesting, and how you should leave some of your yield for the orphan, widow, and poor. Somewhat surprisingly, we are given *two* distinct justifications for why we should do this: Deuteronomy, chapter 24, verse 19 tells us the reason for our kindness is 'in order that the Lord, your God, may bless you in all your undertakings.' Three verses later, after repeating the obligation to leave some for the underprivileged, we are adjured to 'always remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt; therefore do I enjoin you to observe this commandment.' So why are we supposed to help the people around us, so that God will reward us, or as a sign of our gratitude for God's saving us from slavery?

You think I'm going to say that the answer is 'both,' don't you? Well, sort of. It's actually MORE than both. I don't believe that Deuteronomy 24:19 is about God simply repaying us for good behavior. God's blessing is not an objective reality, but rather it's a perception, an experience. You will *feel* blessed, and your life will be filled with more meaning, when you treat other people this way. Similarly, we are meant to remember the slavery in Egypt, not because of some debt we owe God, but because it will soften our hearts. When we remember the pain and suffering we experienced as the lowest caste members in society, our eyes and souls will open up to the pain of The Other in our society, and (hopefully) we *will* help them.

This is also the lesson of Elul, leading into the High Holidays. I want to share with you a quote from Craig Taubman, a Jewish community leader and singer, who among other things composed the new Lecha Dodi tune that I taught on Friday nights (it’s the jazzy one with all the La-la-la-la-la’s…). Taubman wrote about The Art of Welcoming as a personal practice for us to work on in ourselves during the month of Elul: “Welcoming is more than just the way we greet people, it is a way of life. Welcoming is the attitude with which we respond to people, ideas, and the world around us. It’s not just about opening our doors but also opening our hearts and our minds to that which is new and sometimes even frightening. Only when we overcome our fears and choose to trust can we be welcoming in the truest sense of the word.” When you think of being welcoming, you may think of how it might affect the person being invited in. However, it affects you, the welcomer, as well. It makes you a softer, more open, and kinder person. It's not something you do out of obligation or debt, or to receive praise from an onlooker. It is truly its own reward. And so it is with preparing for the High Holidays. Don't do it out of guilt or obligation, or to be more pious than someone else. Start to think about the upcoming season (and indeed this season of preparation RIGHT NOW), because it will enhance the quality of *your* life. Ok, so maybe it isn't entirely altruistic after all. You know what? I'll give you credit for it anyway.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Gerber 

Rabbi’s Corner (Congregation Beth El, Edison, NJ): Beha’alotecha - The Heavy Burden of Authority

Rabbi’s Corner: Beha’alotecha, 5785 - The Heavy Burden of Authority

Leadership is tough. It may seem exciting and make a person feel important, but once you take on that mantle, it very often ain't so easy at all! Public scrutiny, scant praise yet *ample* blame, and a good number of people who are certain they could do your job better than you can. I’m speaking, of course, from the perspective of our ancient Torah. Well, primarily anyway… This week's parashah shows us some of Moses' greatest leadership challenges throughout the Exodus. As usual, the people are complaining. This time the manna isn't enough for them - they want meat! In addition to all the “normal” kvetching, Moses loses one of his favorite and most-trusted advisers: his father-in-law, Jethro. He also has to endure some harsh scolding from God, and perhaps  worst of all, he faces a coup from his own siblings! The job is getting the best of Moses, and he feels compelled to ask God for help.

God acquiesces to Moses' request for some relief, and instructs him to pick 70 elders who will be imbued with the Divine spirit, and who will share the weary load of leadership. What follows is a fascinating scene where the elders are chosen and proceed to the Tent of Meeting, where God will somehow “slice” off part of Moses’ (seemingly quite tangible) link to God and divvy it out to the other newly-minted leaders. However, just as that’s about to take place, two elders - Eldad and Meidad - remain behind in the Israelite camp, yet appear to still be receiving this Calling from God. They start speaking in tongues, and Moses' advisers fear their unsanctioned acts, separated from the other elders, will somehow undermine Moses' authority. They beg him to stop these "rogue" elders, but Moses surprises them by declaring, "Are you jealous for my sake? I wish that all God's people were prophets and that Adonai would put God’s Spirit on them all!" Moses isn't looking for more control; he's looking for less, and he would happily give it all away in a heartbeat!

Now, I feel kind of bad criticizing Moses - after all, the guy has had a rough couple of years. However, to me the notion of every Israelite being a prophet, being a leader, is pretty frightening. It would yield a cacophony of people offering instructions, with none to listen or learn. Whether you like it or not, leadership is necessary. Without it, you're going to end up with anarchy and chaos. Someone needs to make decisions and be held accountable… and yes, also hear (and endure) the people's kvetching. Moses selfishly hopes to relinquish control, even though God clearly considers him the best person for the job. In our lives, we too must strive to figure out what our greatest potential is, and do everything we can to live up to it. Not everyone is meant to be a leader or a prophet, but we all have limitless potential.

The Talmud teaches us, "In a place where there is no leader, strive to be a leader." We should seek out opportunities to be at our best, chances to make the world a better place for the people around us. But what happens in a place where there already is a leader? There is still a role for us to play, and many ways we can help out and contribute. We can all be part of the larger collective, and make the whole system function better for everyone by adding our own, unique skills. One of the reasons the Israelites struggled so much throughout their time in the desert was because Moses never became fully comfortable in his role. He always wished someone *else* could have stepped up and relieved him of his heavy burden. Sometimes we don't get to choose where life will take us, but we can always affect our own lives, and make the most of every situation. Don't wait for the "Spirit of God" to come down and anoint you a leader. Follow instead those most wonderful words of Mahatma Gandhi: "Be the change you wish to see in the world."