Shemini (Shabbat Parah): FOUR Questions??? That's Just the Warmup Act...

Jews ask questions. I might even say it's bound up in our very DNA, that our name as a people - Yisrael, meaning "one who wrestles with God" - is a call to push back,

to grapple with, to challenge, and yes, to question God repeatedly. The Torah begins with Adam and Eve instantly challenging God's only rule in the Garden of Eden, against eating the fruit of a particular tree, and the Five Books of Moses end with a question as well. Moses' final utterance (before the text tells us he died and God buried him) includes the question "Mi Kamocha," "Who is like you?" (Deut. 33:29), spoken about Israel, the people, and its unique relationship with the Divine. So yeah, Jews ask questions. From philosophers, theologians, politicians, and prophets... to doctors, lawyers, community organizers, rabbis, and even comedians, it is perhaps one of THE central traits that has defined us. And in just a few weeks, we'll be asking four special questions at our Passover Seder tables.

There is an odd irony regarding those Four Questions, however, because they are not supposed to be the *only* questions at the Seder. I believe they should be the FIRST questions asked, but they are just meant to get us started. They are the warm-up to get our curiosities going.... The Seder

contains endless peculiarities, hidden clues, provocative statements, and other pedagogical tools; all designed to get the people around the table to ASK. MORE. QUESTIONS. Because, if you think about it, a question draws you into relationship. An answer, by contrast, closes the discussion and you move on to something else, while more questions pull you further and further into dialogue, back and forth, deepening and enhancing the exchange. I love to say to my congregation: Why would you ruin a perfectly wonderful question... by trying to answer it??? So let me invite you to think about two more essential questions, in this season leading up to the Passover Seder:

First, what does it mean to have a food ethic? Pesach is defined by its excess of dietary restrictions, which seems like another peculiar irony, since we call this The Season of Our Freedom. Freedom?? Yeah, right; season to eat cardboard and horseradish, you mean... :-) This week's Torah portion, Shemini, challenges us

to think about our eating habits, much like Pesach does. We read many of the fundamental rules of keeping Kosher, including which animals we are permitted to eat and which ones are treif. There are four categories of creature (there's that number four again...) discussed in the text. Land animals, flying animals, sea creatures, and yes, swarming insects (mmmm, locusts...). But really, the text gives us more *questions* than answers. The distinguishing features seem arbitrary and have nothing to do with cleanliness or morality. Furthermore, some animals defy categorization or exhibit traits that confuse us, and many of the laws are simply not detailed enough. To make them into usable, ritualized, comprehensible mitzvot, more questions need to be asked (meaning more relationship-building...), and a lot of the specifics will need to be "fleshed" out (haha!).

Question-asking is good. Not only does it help you understand more, but it opens you up to forming bonds, caring more about something, and bringing more of yourself to the table. Soooo, here's my final question for you: What don't you (yet) know about Judaism? What are the burning

questions you've never gotten to ask? In preparation for a Sisterhood event I'm leading on April 28th, I'm looking for help to explore the topic of "Jewish Fact; Jewish Fiction." There is a lot of misinformation out there, so I'm wondering what you've always *known* to be true about Jews... that might actually be patently false!! Or at least just "sorta-kinda" correct... Put your question in the "Comments" section, send it to me by e-mail, post it on Facebook, or stop me in the hallway. The most important thing to remember is: Questions are GOOD! Regardless of how, and if, they can be answered. So get ready for the Passover Four Questions - because the Seder will be here before you know it... - but please don't forget they're supposed to be a spring board. The very, very START of a longer conversation. What else do you wanna know? How can you learn more? I'm curious to find out... aren't you?


CC images in this blog post courtesy of:
1. Max Pixel
2. cmswire.com
3. nightowl on Pixabay
4. Fortepan on Wikimedia Commons

Tzav: What is the Ceremonial Installation for a Gadfly?

I had an epiphany this week. I know that sounds a bit dramatic, and perhaps I'm overstating it just a little, but that's what I'm going with for now. I remember once,

when I was in my late-teens and already contemplating becoming a rabbi, I heard someone describe the mixing of religion and politics as "the kiss of death." It wasn't explained to me in more detail, but it left a deep impression. I decided at that moment that people (well, this person anyway...) shouldn't be involved in both; they pick either religion or politics and stay away from the other like the plague!! I have continued to subscribe to this idea, in some form, to this day. When asked about my political opinions, I shrug my shoulders and say that I'm a religious professional, and thus - at least in any official way or public forum - I stay entirely out of the political arena. And then, this week, I had an epiphany.

Let me start in the Torah portion. I promise this wasn't clickbait; I WILL tell you about my realization when you get to paragraph four! As we ease our way into the Third Book of the Torah, Leviticus, we now witness the full ritual ordination ceremony for Aaron, the High Priest, and his sons. Moses goes about sacrificing

animals, dressing these new priests in formal clothing, sprinkling them with blood (as you do...), and performing various other drawn-out, intricate, detail-oriented procedures. One thing that fascinated me about this entire process is that it's being overseen and emceed by Moses. Moses is decidedly NOT a priest. He represents a separate branch of "government" as it were; the institution of prophecy. In Ancient Israel, the community would eventually come to be led by three distinct offices - the king, the High Priest, and the prophet. Two would often work in close partnership with one another, namely the king and his appointed High Priest. The prophet, however, almost always served as a political gadfly; challenging, criticizing, and holding the other two leaders accountable on behalf of both the people AND God.

It is interesting, therefore, that Moses would oversee the rituals installing the priests, considering that he is, in a sense, the opposition! In fact, throughout the series of complicated ceremonies, Aaron and the other priests never speak at all.

They follow Moses' instructions precisely. They are the object of all these mysterious rites, while the person investing them with authority and sacred purpose is specifically a DIFFERENT type of leader; a public figure who aims to keep these priests honest. You might say that the one who anoints them as keepers of the fire, is also the one holding their feet to it! And getting back to my original point, this contradicts how I see religion and politics co-existing. Before looking at this example more carefully, I might have said they oversaw different parts of society. Separate-but-equal. Non-overlapping. Two chemicals that were each powerful... but should never be combined for fear of combustion! But what if religious leaders today have been abdicating a critical role in our social systems?

Enter my epiphany: It is still true that fusing politics and religion COULD BE the Kiss of Death. Though now I think the heart of the danger is when the same person tries to inhabit both roles. Or when religious leaders try to lend some "Divine

authority" to a political leader, in an attempt to elevate them above scrutiny or criticism. Instead, religious leaders might consider claiming the title (and megaphone) of the gadfly. Let's face it; it's not like politicians (or religious leaders, for that matter...) have done a great job holding themselves accountable!! I'm not sure what this change could or would look like, to be honest, because it still feels like an *enormous* taboo to step across that line. But someone needs to assume the gadfly-mantle, no? Aaron couldn't ordain himself, just as Moses couldn't declare himself a prophet! Like I said, it was "just" an epiphany. It didn't come with a fully-formed plan or a social manifesto. So let's begin mulling this over together, shall we? Do you agree? Do you HATE this idea??? Let's talk. And if it resonates, maybe we'll work on the installation ceremony details a little later. :-)


CC images in this blog post courtesy of:
1. Aris Gionis on Flickr
2. mifuno on Deviant Art
3. Hans on Pixabay
4. Banalities on Flickr

Vayikra (Zachor): You Don't Mess With Leviticus (repost from 2011)

What is the very first thing you teach a child on his or her first day of school?
What do you want to start out with to show the children what they have to look forward to, to give them a sense of comfort, and to demonstrate that school can be fun and exciting? According to the ancient rabbis, children should begin their Jewish education by learning the Book of Leviticus. To some, this might sound surprising, considering that the book primarily contains laws of sacrifice, purity and impurity, and priestly regulations for how to maintain the Ancient Tabernacle. Ordinarily, that sort of thing doesn't go over too well with 6-year olds. Apparently, the rabbis disagree.

The rabbis tell us that children are pure, so it is
appropriate to teach them about the laws of purity. I see their point, but I cannot possibly imagine that any child would find meaning, interest, or enjoyment in learning about Leviticus. It's hard for an adult to read this book, how is a child supposed to make sense of it?! Personally, I think the rabbis took a lesson out of Frank Sinatra's playbook: "If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere!" The problem is, this philosophy led a lot of people to tune out religious school... and even as adults they never tune back in.

So what's the deal with Leviticus? How do we find meaning in this book, and extract any relevant concepts for our lives today? Rabbi Abigail Treu, in a Torah commentary written for the Jewish Theological Seminary, talks about the "mega-
values" that are laid out in Vayikra (Leviticus in Hebrew). In fact, we learn about laws like "Love your neighbor as yourself" and "Proclaim liberty throughout the land"; amazing concepts which have inspired people and nations for millennia. So what are they doing hidden amidst the archaic, outdated laws of the sacrificial cult? (No offense to our ancient ancestors...) Rabbi Treu reminds us that religion is not just about individual choice and free will. Yes, these things are important, but we are also part of an organized religion, which values Shabbat, Kashrut, holidays, lifecycle events, and Jewish jokes. These things are crucial as well! If we only had the other books of the Torah, we would still learn about important role models like Abraham, Sarah, and Joseph, but we would not have our rituals. We would get history, but not practice. We would be a culture, a nation, even a people... but not a religion. Rabbi Treu writes, "It is in Leviticus that we come to understand that stories can shape the heart, but ritual shapes our days."

Having said all of that, I'm still not sure it's the best choice for a Kindergarten lesson plan. "Trial by fire" doesn't seem like a good philosophy for a child's first day of school... Luckily we don't do this anymore. Young children learn Jewish songs, they make (and eat) Jewish food, and they learn basic holiday observances like wearing costumes on Purim and getting presents on Chanukah. But we are not children. We are no longer looking for a religious tradition geared towards kids; we are ready for the grown-up version... or at least I hope we are.

With experience comes knowledge. We've learned that it takes time to learn a skill or a craft, that becoming an accomplished musician or athlete comes with hard 

work, dedication, passion, and determination. Religion is the same way. I'm not sure people always realize that (or want to realize it), but it's true. Leviticus forces us to react and ask questions. It comes with confusing, complicated, and sometimes upsetting laws which provoke us to think. It's time to engage the Torah on an adult level. It'll be worth it, I promise. It's a wonderfully rich tradition, and has a lot of amazing things to say and teach about our everyday lives. But it'll take work to get there. Genesis is behind us now, so is Exodus. It's time for Leviticus.

Photos in this blog post:

1. CC Image courtesy of retinafunk on Flickr

2. CC image courtesy of twm1340 on Flickr

3. CC image courtesy of basykes on Flickr

4. CC image courtesy of Andrei! on Flickr

5. CC image courtesy of Ron Sombilon Gallery on Flickr

Pekudei: The Slurs are Back... So Now What?

This is uncomfortable to say... but let's talk a little about Jews and money. Lately in the news, there have been several stories about anti-Semitic tropes, often involving Jews, money, and power, as well as the infamous (and indefatigable) accusation of dual loyalty. For most people, our gut reaction is to say

"NO! You can't say such things!! That's anti-Semitic, it's racist - BE QUIET!!" We simply want it to stop. Here's the problem: The stereotype, the slur, the accusation; it doesn't go away. It festers... only now it's ever-so-slightly below the surface and hidden from view. So what if we resisted that visceral instinct to silence hate and bigotry and misinformation? Is there a way to confront it and have an open dialogue... one that doesn't ALSO lend credence or legitimacy to views we find abhorrent? I don't know if there is. But I also know that displays of unity, force, and condemnation are NOT eradicating hate and ignorance. They're just masking the problem. What if we took a different approach?

Our parashah doesn't deal with anti-Semitism or hate speech. However, it DOES brush up against that first cliché I mentioned; the dreaded linking together of Jews and money. For the umpteenth time in this same part of the Torah, the text
describes the materials, methods, and funding of the Tabernacle in the desert. Why do we need to hear about this over and over again? What does OUR specific reading add to the narrative? For one thing, it's Moses opening up his books and showing the transparency of his accounting. The commentary in the Etz Hayim Chumash explains: "Why did Moses feel obliged to give this detailed account? Some Israelites knew that they would have taken advantage of handling all that gold and silver for their own enrichment. They suspected Moses of being no better than they were." (p. 564) Moses wants the people to know he's trustworthy and honest. Maybe he doesn't even know it, but he's already battling a vicious stereotype...

The text goes out of its way to insist Moses was not acting according to his own plans. Everything was decreed by God; everything followed God's Plan. The text, in fact, reiterates this constantly. From Exodus 38:22 to 40:32, in just 86 verses, the Torah repeats the phrase "Ka'asher Tzivah Adonai" - "... as Adonai had commanded" - NINETEEN times! The Torah wants
to make it *abundantly* clear that Moses is not advancing his own interest here; he's carrying out the Will of God and working on behalf of the community. Fast forward a few thousand years, this all-too-familiar slur just will NOT stop hounding us. When I hear these accusations resurfacing again and again, I feel many mixed emotions. On the one hand, it's like nails on a chalk board - the same, old criticisms of pro-Israel lobbies, wealthy Jewish donors, and dual loyalties that allegedly undermine America's ability to trust us. On the other hand, maybe we need to take a step back. WHY won't these tropes go away? Why do they constantly return, despite being shouted down repeatedly, over the course of centuries and even millenia? Something has to change.

I don't know that our detractors are interested in a dialogue. I hope they are. Because this country is made up of a myriad different groups and ethnicities, all with loyalties to family, community, country, religion, and more. These same recriminations have been launched against us since Pharaoh in the beginning of

Exodus (1:10), and more recently against other minorities like Japanese-Americans in World War Two and Muslim-Americans after 9/11. Furthermore, our Torah portion this week demonstrates how long we've been fending off accusations surrounding Jews and money. It never ends, and perhaps it never will. What I do know is that shouting down our accusers hasn't worked; the slurs keep coming. In fact, the more we shout, the more they feel justified in claiming we wield our power to censor any and all opposition. Maybe it's time to try something else? Do the critics really KNOW our story? What we've endured and overcome? And do we do enough to support others, and to stand up against THEIR attackers?? I don't know the answers, but I'm also tired of going around in circles and getting nowhere. Isn't it time we find a new way to respond?


Images in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of muzina_shanghai on Flickr
2. CC image courtesy of Sony Dslr-A350 on Max Pixel
3. CC image courtesy of Sharon Drummond on Flickr
4. CC image courtesy of Wikipedia