Shemot: Isn't This Pharaoh Just THE Worst??

Some years it works out this way, but not all the time. The end of our secular (Gregorian) year has coincided with the end of the Book of Genesis. It's always

somewhere around this season, but this year we are reading the first Torah portion of the Book of Exodus *just* as one year is coming to a close and another is starting. Both situations give us an opportunity for reflection, mindfulness, and peering into the future. I feel, therefore, that there is a particularly apt message to take from the antagonist of the Exodus story; namely, Pharaoh. I don't say that just because he's a pretty classic "bad guy," but because the Torah itself interestingly paints "Pharaoh" as an archetype. Even within the narrative of the Bible itself, Pharaoh is a larger-than-life figure, who is somehow both more *and* less than any one, single story about him. Let me explain:

Throughout the Torah, our ancestors encountered various kings. There's Balak of Moab, Amorite kings like Og and Sichon, Avimelech of the Philistines, the Canaanite ruler, Shechem (from the Dinah story), and many, many others.

It is therefore curious, perhaps, that Abraham makes pacts with "Pharaoh," Jacob and Joseph engage with and serve under "Pharaoh," Moses and Aaron battle against "Pharaoh," and even much, much later, King Solomon marries the daughter of (you guessed it) "Pharaoh." Obviously, the text isn't referring to the same fella; it's just a title that gets passed from ruler to ruler. Our ancestors are all encountering different Pharaohs, and are therefore not surprisingly having vastly different experiences with them; from kindness and intermarriage, to cold peace, suspicion, and even brutal oppression. On the one hand, this simple answer resolves our confusion instantly; it's just a title that transfers. Yet, on the other hand, it *is* curious that only Pharaoh receives this distinction. Other titles don't shift like this. Certainly not without a second name, or at the very least a title or suffix, like "the Fourth" or "Jr." So what gives??

As I suggested above, Pharaoh is an archetype, a stand-in for The Other whom we encounter, and specifically The Outsider who has power over us. Sometimes the relationship can be good, other times it's disastrous... and not-too-infrequently the pleasant one can TURN devastating with very little warning. As we begin to read

about the "worst" of the Pharaohs - the one who oppressed our Israelite ancestors, and tried desperately *not* to succumb to the Ten Plagues - we may feel a nagging temptation. We will read about Pharaoh's self-aggrandizement, his brutal policies, his total lack of interest in hearing the opinions of others, his willingness to sacrifice his people for his own ego, his harsh temperament, his vanity, and his ability to take the concept of "obtuseness" to a whole, new level. We may feel a strong desire to compare modern-day people to this Pharaoh - be they world leaders, media figures, historic villains, pop culture foils, or politicians with whom we disagree. So let me say this: Do *not* resist that urge.

Pharaoh is meant to represent something important in our lives. We should endeavor to maintain positive relations, the way Abraham, Joseph, and Solomon do, but we should also remain vigilant for circumstances where Joseph's Pharaoh may morph into Moses and Aaron's. Frankly speaking,

it has happened too often in our Jewish history for us to ignore... I believe the Torah is saying "Be on the lookout for Pharaoh in your own lives," while also reminding us that Pharaohs come... and Pharaohs go. We might perhaps link this to the well-known maxim, "This Too Shall Pass." When things are good, be a little cautious and alert as well. And when things are bad, do not lose hope, because it will not last forever. By referring to every one of these various rulers as "Pharaoh," the title seemingly *leaps* off the page! It becomes a universal concept - beyond any one individual - an archetype and antagonist that will never be fully vanquished. Another Pharaoh will always be waiting around the corner... but *we* will be ready then too.


Images in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of cocoparisienne on Pixabay
2. CC image courtesy of ArtsyBee on Pixabay
3. CC image courtesy of Becker1999 on Flickr
4. CC image courtesy of DukeOne on Flickr

Va-Yechi: A Hurtful Letter... And What Lies Beneath

Our local community was rocked by a scandal this week. It's even been picked up by national news, which is highly unusual for a small, suburban community like this one.

Just a few days ago, several minority families in the Swarthmore-Wallingford area received horrendous, racist letters on their doorsteps. The letters were all the same, and included appalling threats to inflict physical harm or even death if the families didn't move out of the country by the next morning! Many other hateful comments were included as well, and soon the letters were also linked to photos online of two youths wearing KKK-style hoods. The perpetrators have been identified, and it appears they are students at our local High School, who may have thought the whole thing was a joke. It is hard to even know where to begin, in addressing the many, many levels of wrong and offensive that are wrapped into this heinous act. Yet even here, even in this disturbing and highly upsetting case, I believe we can begin in the Torah.

We can even look specifically in this week's Torah reading, in fact. This final parashah in the Book of Genesis actually ALSO includes the distribution of a fake letter that is 

incredibly hurtful. The circumstances are obviously different, but I think there's an underlying lesson that - believe it or not - spans across both situations. As we conclude the story of our first Biblical family, we read about the death of Jacob in Egypt, surrounded by his progeny. The Torah tells us that right after Jacob died, 11 of his sons feared that their other brother, Joseph, would now - at long last - punish them for having sold him into slavery so many years earlier. The men therefore approached Joseph and said, "Before his death, your father left this instruction: 'So shall you say to Joseph: 'Forgive, I urge you, the offense and guilt of your brothers who treated you so harshly.' " (Gen. 50:16-17) By telling us that the brothers FIRST feared retribution, and only THEN produced this "alleged" letter, I feel the implication is quite clear that it was a manufactured communique; not actually written by Jacob.

Furthermore, Joseph's reaction to his brothers' appeal is to begin crying. The text suggests he's weeping because he is not, in fact, holding a grudge, but wants only to forgive. Though I also wonder if the tears reflect a deep sadness that they had to lie to him, that they couldn't just speak their fears in words.

And that is where I see a similarity between these stories. There is a deep hurt in our country. Many people are out of work, they are hungry, they don't have adequate medical care, and the cost of education is beyond what many can afford. So their anger is taken out on The Other; on immigrants, foreigners, and any vulnerable group that can be made a target of fears, xenophobia, frustration, and anger. Rather than talk about difficult emotions or genuine concerns, people sometimes put on hoods to hide their faces. Or they say their slurs were "just a joke," so they won't have to take responsibility for the pain they cause. And they over-simplify complex problems, so that even children think it can all be solved with heartless, unilateral actions, like throwing someone else out of the country.

Yes, of course I am angry at these foolish children who have no "real" understanding of the centuries of racism and hate they tapped into. Nor do they understand the culture of divisiveness that has never been dealt with in this country. I am upset with their stupidity, and I am furious at their insensitivity and astounding lack of judgment.

And yet, I also think we must resist the urge to make this all about these four, misguided teenagers. They are not an anomaly, they are a symptom. There is precedent for misdirecting uncomfortable emotions into hurtful acts as far back as the Book of Genesis! If we label this whole incident as "just" an aberration, we learn nothing. In reality, this has tapped into a sickness that is much, much deeper, and is causing severe damage to everyone living in the United States, and possibly around the globe. This sickness includes (but is not limited to) our fear of The Other, and our strong desire to boil issues down to "us" and "them," "good guys" and "bad guys." Both behaviors are incredibly destructive. Let us not miss the opportunity to tackle the larger issues at stake here. When these racially tone-deaf children have been disciplined, let us NOT put this issue to rest. Because the emotions under the surface remain... and we NEED to talk about THOSE issues if we are ever going to begin the healing process.


Images in this blog post:
1. CC image from 1948 (so NOT the image from earlier this week!) courtesy of Ras67 on Wikimedia Commons
2. CC image courtesy of Francois Maitre's "Jacob Blessing His Sons," courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
3. CC image courtesy of Quinn Dombrowski on Flickr
4. CC image of Lovis Corinth's "Vater Franz Heinrich Corinth auf dem Krankenlager," courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Vayigash: Oy, Another Jewish Banker...

I go back and forth about this whole "Radical Honesty" thing. As you may (hopefully) recall, that was my theme of my sermons at this year's High Holidays, and it has since morphed into a personal creed for the whole year... possibly even

beyond. But honesty is hard. Not everything needs to be shared, not all the time, and not with everyone. On the other hand, how is it completely HONEST if it's selective??? For example, should I share with you the uncomfortable details of our Torah portion? It may be truthful to focus on ways that our text has led to anti-Semitism, has fanned the flames of racist stereotypes, and could be used against us as examples of karma or poetic justice; we got what we deserved! Do people want to hear it? Do I/we want to look at it and try and make some sense of what our ancestors did and why? Clearly, the answer is "yes," because I'm about to tell you about it now! Though I acknowledge it is complex, and that sometimes the truth can hurt. Maybe the main point is, nothing is ever as simple as it seems...

The Joseph story (and thus the entire Book of Genesis) are about to conclude. This section may be familiar to you; Joseph brings his family down to Egypt, life is good, Pharaoh loves him... but then a new Pharaoh arises who does NOT know Joseph.
Dark clouds begin to spread across the sky, and we have an ominous feeling heading into the Book of Exodus. What is sometimes left OUT of the narrative, and which is unpleasant to talk about, is how Joseph conducted himself as Grand Vizier in Egypt. The end of our parashah makes it abundantly clear that he was not a kind-hearted, people-focused ruler. After seven years of plenty - and thus seven years of stockpiling and hoarding grain - Joseph does NOT redistribute the food back to the Egyptians during the subsequent famine. Instead, he SELLS it back to them, and little by little acquires (on Pharaoh's behalf) essentially the rights to all the land of Egypt. The people sell him EVERYTHING; ultimately declaring: "Take us and our land in exchange for bread, and we with our land will be serfs to Pharaoh; provide us with seed that we may live and not die" (Gen. 47:19). The Egyptian priests are spared; however with the exception of the top 1% of the population, everyone else is now essentially a slave.

I think you can see why this is SO uncomfortable to read. The outsider - the Jew - comes in and enslaves the people!! The tax collector, the banker, the money-grubbing Hebrew; this story reinforces all of the worst stereotypes and fears that

people have about Jews. Bitterly we must acknowledge that our Jewish history has been filled with this awful trope over and over and over again. From Pharaoh's perspective, it's perfect! If all goes well, Pharaoh looks like a genius and a savior for bringing Joseph in at the right time to save the people. If it all fails; blame the Jew. And this constantly repeating pattern has made us all nervous. It doesn't help to see a daily barrage of stories about Jews like Bernie Madoff, Harvey Weinstein, Michael Cohen, Jarred Kushner, and so, so many others. People in positions of power and influence, who took (or take...) advantage of the system for personal gain, greed, and dominance. How can I ignore the ways in which this story plays RIGHT into all those awful models?!?!

Well, that's where honesty comes back in. We can't hide from our past... or from our present. Let's acknowledge the wrongs we see committed - whether in the Torah, in Hollywood, on Wall Street, or in Washington. Joseph's story IS in the

Torah. It is also true that we collectively suffer for his decisions. Bringing the family down to Egypt leads to enslavement and oppression. All the ways that Joseph subjugates the Egyptians are soon mirrored in Pharaoh's persecution of the Hebrews. Is it indeed poetic justice?? Perhaps. It is also a stark reminder to us of what happens when we pursue wealth at the expense of others, power on the backs of the less-fortunate. I think we have to read these stories year after year, to remind ourselves of the risks of abuse of power. This also doesn't just affect the wealthiest Jews or those with public personas. We all need to take this lesson to heart and work on our humility, our compassion, and our concern for ALL people around us, not just our own family and friends... you know, if we're being really honest...


Images in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of Nick Youngson on Alphastockimages.com
2. CC image courtesy of Pixnio
3. CC image courtesy of Meanwhile in Budapest
4. CC image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Mikeitz (Shabbat Chanukah): From Judah to Judah to Jews

Origin stories are complicated. Rarely is it a case of "just the facts, ma'am." Objective details (if there even really are such mythical things...) get conflated with
romanticized accounts, wishful thinking, hero worship, political agendas, religious motivations, and, and, and... This is true for the myths surrounding holidays, nations, superheroes, you name it. Take, for example, our history as Jews. When were we first called Jews? By whom? Did we see ourselves as a small clan, a growing tribe, a priestly order, an aspiring empire? Where did all this occur, and how did everything shift and morph into what we see today? So many questions, so few definitive answers. And anyone who tells you they "know" is probably selling something. Just smile politely and walk away...

I don't traffic in answers; you probably figured that out already. But I do enjoy me some challenging questions! This week, we see emerging a POSSIBLE explanation for why we're called "Jews," and, in fact, we even get two origin stories
to choose from! The Torah spends a surprising amount of time highlighting one of Jacob's sons, namely Joseph. I say this is surprising, because we are not descended from him. Joseph is NOT our ancestor! Over several consecutive Torah portions, we learn about Joseph's life, and the challenges he overcomes. Then, FINALLY, our knight in shining armor rides in. You see, Joseph is bitter. His brothers sold him into slavery, and now they come crawling down to Egypt, looking for food, totally unaware that the Egyptian Grand Vizier before them is their scorned sibling. Joseph lays a trap. He engineers a recreation of the exact circumstances that led to his abandonment. He gives extra food and attention to just one brother, Benjamin. Then he hides a goblet in Benjamin's backpack and accuses the whole group of stealing. When it is revealed that Benjamin is the "culprit," he gives the brothers an out, saying he'll free them and only imprison Benjamin, whom they probably don't care for anyway, because he's pampered, entitled, and (apparently) also a thief. Then, it happens.

Judah steps in. He's not the oldest brother, or the noblest, the strongest, the most pious, or most passionate.

But he puts his life on the line for his brother, makes a clear, confident, compassionate case for why he cannot abandon Benjamin in Egypt, and refuses to back down. Joseph crumbles. At long last, he finally sees that his brothers have grown, and they have matured as people (and as siblings) to protect one another. It is a proud and emotional scene for them all, but really it's a moment of triumph and leadership for Judah. This speech solidifies his role as the new patriarch. It emboldens his descendants to become a powerful tribe, and later to maintain the Ancient Temple and its priests within their territory. When the Northern Kingdom of Israel eventually falls, Judah is all that is left, and its inhabitants - the Judeans (or Jews) - become the sole bearers of this heritage. Voila; an origin story.

Earlier, I told you I'd be sharing TWO tales. You see, this weekend is also the end of Chanukah, which includes another famous Judah. This one is a Hasmonean, a militant fighter; Judah the Hammer, the Maccabee. Occasionally, someone will

ask me if THIS guy is the reason we're called Jews. Does HE represent our origin story?? Thankfully (in my opinion), the answer is no. If you read the Books of the Maccabees, you'll discover that Judah was a violent dude. A brilliant tactician, to be sure. An inspirational general and a fierce warrior. But can you build a nation on violence and fundamentalism? The Hasmoneans were radicals who would not tolerate secularism. We see that behavior around us in the world today... and we do NOT like it. Religious extremism is a very scary reality. It often begins with a well-intentioned, zealous, truth-seeking individual... but soon gets corrupted into ruthless, brutal intolerance. In short, all Judahs are not created equal. The opportunity to see both stories side-by-side, as we do this weekend, affords us the insight to consider our origin as a people and contemplate the actions and principles of our ancestors. And then, perhaps, to give thanks... and breathe a sigh of relief.


Images in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of pixabay
2. CC image courtesy of pixabay
3. CC image courtesy of Biscuit PNG on pngimp.com
4. CC image courtesy of Mount Pleasant Granary

L'Chaim - December, 2018: What If It Isn't Spam?

Rabbi’s Message, December, 2018: What If It Isn’t Spam?

“Sir, I want to serve GOD. I am searching [for] the kingdom of GOD. After my death, I want to see my LORD in heaven. I want to hear the voice of GOD like Samuel. I want to live [a] holy life.”

This was the message I recently received on Facebook. I didn’t know the sender, and - to be honest - I was pretty certain it was spam. We all get trash like this, and as a rabbi and clergy person, I am perhaps uniquely exposed to Jewishly-themed spam (wow, that phrase sounds weird...). But, for some reason, I responded. I figured I could give him two or three BRIEF replies, and if/when he indeed proved crazy - no harm, no foul. It’s not like I was giving him credit card info or anything!!

My new Facebook “friend” told me he was 29 years old and from India. He still lives in India, he’s married, and he has an infant daughter. He continued to reiterate his fervent desire to “each and every second” speak to, and hear the voice of, God. He wanted some reading recommendations, so I sent him some titles he could purchase on Amazon.com. Then, our conversation shifted tone.

He asked for more information about the Ten Commandments, and then wrote: “Rabbi, detail[ed] explanation about 6th commandment??” (His English wasn’t too great...) He wanted to know more about the prohibition against adultery, and what specifically was forbidden. Then I discovered, to my surprise, why he was ACTUALLY reaching out to me: He was desperate for help! His wife could not risk getting pregnant again, and they “knew” the Bible said non-procreative sex was a sin. What followed was a series of detailed questions about relationships and relations, the graphic nature of which need not be repeated here. The main point is, he was not a scam artist at all; he was a stressed out young man who was worried that God was going to punish him. So why am I sharing all of this with you here? Well, I have two reasons.

Early in our conversation, this individual said he’d tried frantically to reach ANYONE who could help him: “I just search rabi and Jewish people and I gave request to so many but you only accept my request.” But with his broken English and his peculiar talk of “the Kingdom of GOD,” most people just assumed he was either spam or a scam. So it was a humbling reminder not to judge too quickly. We can be vigilant and careful, and we must protect ourselves, our families, and our privacy. BUT, it’s also ok to extend a hand and a compassionate ear, because you never know who needs help and has trouble asking for it.

The second reason I wanted to recount this experience relates to my theme this year of Radical Honesty. We don’t talk about sex. As Jews, as Americans, as grownups; we just avoid the topic all the time. It’s embarrassing, it’s private, it’s inappropriate. But this poor guy was carrying puritanical understandings of intimacy, sin, and shame, feeling lonely and judged, and no one was willing to help him. The things that others had taught him about the Bible were - in my opinion - wrong and harmful, and I said as much to him. I’m glad I was able to assist this one individual… but it also makes me wonder how many others are out there, people who “know” the Bible disapproves, and have just given up on asking a rabbi or priest. My guess is, many of them aren’t even as far away as India…

So I’ll state it explicitly: My door is open. I’m happy to challenge your views on what Judaism permits and forbids… and I would be honored and grateful for the opportunity to discuss ANY difficult subject that you’d like to share. If it’s easier, you can also text, e-mail, or write to me on Facebook Messenger. I hope you’ll take me up on this offer. Oh, and I promise I won’t dismiss your message as spam...

Sincerely,

Rabbi Gerber