Matot-Masei: A Tough Border to Cross

It's hard to put ourselves out for someone else. We do it occasionally, and for small, measured amounts of time, effort, and money, but it can

be really tough to go a step further. We need a vested interest, a stake, a carrot; some reason to make it worth our while to help another. And quite honestly, the Torah knows this. It understands human nature, even when it's uncomfortable for you and me to admit this out loud. The Torah doesn't shy away from saying so. It sometimes speaks in terms of ideals and lofty goals, but it also isn't afraid to get down in the trenches and shed light on the real, base, imperfect, and selfish emotions that make us human beings. So let's go there for a minute, shall we? Let's follow the Torah down one of those rabbit holes and talk about what selfishness looks like.

In our Torah portion, the final one of the fourth Book of the Torah, Numbers, Moses faces a challenge. The leaders of two-and-a-half tribes (the Torah never explains why Menashe split in half; just go with it...) approach Moses and ask for a

BIG favor. You see, towards the end of the wanderings of the Israelites through the desert, they have found themselves now inside modern-day Jordan, preparing to cross the famous river and conquer the Holy Land. And Reuben, Gad, and 50% of Menashe don't want to cross the Jordan. They like the land on the other side; they want to stay there. Moses is incensed! "Are your brothers to go to war while you stay here???" (Num. 32:6) Moses HATES this idea. It's selfish and self-serving. We've only been wandering for 40 years for this EXACT purpose, to conquer Canaan; sure, just give up when we're right at the border!!

But the tribes remain undeterred. They offer a deal to try and persuade Moses. They'll leave their families and flocks in Jordan, but will send troops to fight with their brethren and conquer the land. Only when

everything has been captured will they then return home. Moses (surprisingly) agrees. And what's even more astonishing (in my opinion anyway...) is that God is never consulted. God makes no appearance in this confrontation. I guess the text is telling us this is primarily a human issue. And I think you and I can truly relate. We too are tempted to put our families and our finances ahead of the interests of the collective good. And, conversely, we get angry - like Moses - when we see others acting this way. Ultimately, the main challenge for us all to consider is whether we could repeat the two surprising behaviors demonstrated by these tribes.

First, would you be able to see yourself as honestly as they do? They don't deny Moses' accusation. They don't protest. "Yeah, you're right. Our request IS self-serving. You caught us." They accept, as we all should, that OF COURSE they put their children and their own interests first. Admitting that allows you to

move to step two with greater honesty, integrity, and self-understanding. And step two, obviously, is challenging yourself to rise above that. As we approach the High Holidays, look back at the year that was, and ask yourself if you ever really put yourself out for someone else. Did you focus on the needs of another before your own? Let's face it: That is not our natural way. And that's ok. But we can PUSH ourselves outside our comfort zone and be just a little bit more inconvenienced. The Torah, and God, sees us for who we are. But it also sees what we COULD be, and has great hopes and dreams for all of us. The trick is, are we willing to see those things too? Are we willing to see what we look like, down in the trenches? And then - perhaps scarier still - are we willing to picture what we could become? Two tough questions we each must answer for ourselves.

Photos in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of Rowanwindwhistler on Wikimedia Commons
2. CC photo "Jordan and the Promised Land" courtesy of Dzlinker on Wikimedia Commons
3. CC image courtesy of Matanya on Wikimedia Commons
4. CC image courtesy of Matanya onWikimedia Commons

Pinchas: Five Women Who Challenged God

I'm sure you're familiar with the Fabulous Five in the Torah, aren't you? The five women named Machlah, Noa, Choglah, Milcah, and 

Tirtzah? Of course you are! Who doesn't know Talcum, Mona, Challah, Milky, and Myrtle? Wait, did I get that right? Sorry, I had to look up the names, so I might have messed up the spellings just a little... You see, the thing is, we SHOULD be familiar with them, but most of us aren't. They are some of the most proactive, fearless, equality-seeking, gutsy women in the Torah... and we rarely, if ever, talk about them. What gives?

This week, we read their story, so I thought we could talk about them for a minute. These five women are the daughters of a man named Zelophechad. The father is deceased. And the women come to Moses to complain, because all their father's holdings are now going to pass over 

to the closest MALE relative, and the five daughters will be left with nothing. This can't possibly be fair, can it? They assert: "Let not our father's name be lost to his clan just because he had no son! Give us a holding among our father's kinsmen!" (Numbers 27:4) They are all young and not yet married (which makes their confronting of Moses all the more impressive), but they feel justified in saying that this system is flawed. And, incredibly, when Moses brings this concern to God's attention, God responds: "The plea of Zelophechad's daughters is just: you should give them a hereditary holding among their father's kinsmen; transfer their father's share to them." (Numb. 27:7) And this then becomes the law of the land.

Now, this didn't make everything perfect. I wish I could tell you that Machlah, Noa, Choglah, Milcah, and Tirtzah paved the way for full women's rights and equal pay. These five women still had to split ONE share, and they were required to marry men from within their clan or the holding would remain with the ancestral tribe. 

So not (yet) utopia. But it sets a precedent, right? It creates a tiny crack in the male-dominated hegemony of the ancient world, and it DOES feel like a pretty major victory. So why don't we hear about it more? Well, I think we all know the answer to that. When the (male) Israelites spent 40 years in the desert complaining about, well, EVERYTHING, and acted like entitled, spoiled, self-centered children, these Fabulous Five put them all to shame with one, single request. And that might have been hard to take for the priests, prophets, rabbis, and teachers of the subsequent millennia of Jewish history.

But so what? To heck with them! You and I are here now, and there's no time like the present. Let's talk about... Noa and her sisters, 
and let's celebrate their victory as our own. Ultimately, it IS impressive that the Torah shares with us their story, and then repeats it again ten chapters later, in case you missed it the first time. The Torah is not embarrassed to highlight strong women, and we shouldn't be either. In fact, we should learn from their example to speak up when we see injustice, and to question the establishment, even when we don't think it will affect change. Surely, we tell ourselves, someone else has already asked the question. But maybe no one has. And maybe someone should. And maybe, just maybe, that someone is you.

Photos in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of Slowking4 on Wikimedia Commons
2. CC image courtesy of Quinn Dombrowski on Wikimedia Commons
3. CC image courtesy of Parrot of Doom on Wikimedia Commons
4. CC image of a family with five daughters, courtesy of Co9man on Wikimedia Commons

Chukat: A New Era Begins

My, how time flies! It was true in the ancient world, just as it still is today. In this week's parashah, the narrative skips 38 years in the time it takes to end chapter 19 and begin chapter 20 in the Book of 

Numbers. The blink of an eye. All at once, it feels instantaneous and eternal; a fleeting memory and an entire generation. In his Torah commentary, Rabbi Gunther Plaut writes: "There is little further to be said about those who loved the security of slavery more than the uncertain freedom that was offered them." Why waste any more time on the generation that didn't know how to change, evolve, and make society better? The Torah thanks them for their contribution, and then swiftly moves into a new era. I can't think of a more perfect metaphor for the Supreme Court's ruling, earlier today, on gay marriage.

Twenty years from now (though perhaps only ten, or five, or even three; who knows at the swift rate things are moving!), everyone will say they supported gay marriage. It will become like civil rights a generation ago; no one today would admit that, back then, they were the neanderthal who wanted to keep segregated water fountains! 

Right now, this feels controversial, and it IS a major victory because many people still oppose same-sex unions. And yet, it also somehow feels ancient; like people who still (somehow) accidentally use racial slurs and don't get why it's a big deal. The times they are a-changin'; of that there is no doubt. In the very near future, I am certain this will seem like such a non-issue, because we won't be able to fathom who would ever DREAM of restricting same-sex marriage, or adoption, or inheritance rights? It will puzzle us, which is why it will surely (and thankfully) fade into our distant memory very soon. 

But the Torah doesn't really want you to forget. We WANT to read about the early generation of Israelites who feared changed, whined at the idea of taking responsibility for one another, and opposed 

progress. We need to hear about our origins, so we learn to recognize it in ourselves when we face new issues down the road. Today, we have finally seen the light, and have lifted marriage equality to an incredible new height. But let's not pretend that this is the last challenging issue that society will face. Let's harness this sense of progress and elation, and remind ourselves that this WAS a big deal, it WAS a hard-fought win, and other battles will surface in the future that will need our enthusiasm and determination.

Sometime we imagine that change comes when EVERYONE is already in agreement. We don't want to offend, so we won't make official policy changes until all minds have been changed and opposition has been silenced. But honestly, that's rarely 

how it goes. Instead, there's a groundswell of opinions that press for change, some are persuaded while others remain resolute, and ultimately, when change comes, many are not yet convinced and need time to come around. But change does ALWAYS come. That part is certain. So if you're still trying to decide, just remember the ancient Israelites. I don't think you want to be stuck languishing in the desert, never able to enter the Promised Land. Leave those 38 years in the past, and turn to face the future with excitement and anticipation. The land is good. 

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha-Olam, Shehecheyanu, v'Kiyemanu, v'Higianu La-Z'man Ha-Zeh. Amen.

Photos in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of Ebraminio on Wikimedia Commons
2. CC image of Little Rock, 1959 courtesy of John T. Bledsoe on Wikimedia Commons
3. CC image courtesy of Jim Padgett on Wikimedia Commons
4. The Marriage Equality logo, courtesy of the Human Rights Campaign.

Korach: Fusing Together Peace Amidst the Brokenness

Earlier this week, a terrible shooting took place in South Carolina. It can be tempting to focus on the specifics of this case, asking how a young man could commit such a crime or dismissing the incident as the actions of an insane person.

But I think many people also acknowledge that this is yet another horrific reminder that there is brokenness in our country. Gun laws and race relations - these are two issues that are hard to talk about, and are sometimes uncomfortable. And yet, they are both plaguing our nation, and little is being done to affect change. How do we process this? What can we do to avoid feeling powerless and filled with despair? I want to offer a suggestion.

First of all, this IS incomprehensible. It is impossible to understand why someone would sit through a Bible class - much like the ones we hold weekly here at Ohev Shalom - and then turn around and kill the very people with whom you were studying. It is equally challenging to grapple with the ease with which this person obtained a weapon.

Furthermore, his heinous act has also, once again, ripped open the wound of racism which DOES still exist in this country, and which we ignore at our own peril. Clearly. Here at Ohev Shalom, we are in the early stages of a community partnership called FUSE. Together with religious communities in Swarthmore, Wallingford, Media, and - most importantly - in Chester and Marcus Hook, we are trying to tackle these big questions head on. Right now, we are mainly laying the groundwork with conversations, dialogue, communication, and networking. Why? Because we currently do NOT live as though we are one community. And we must.

I do not personally know what it's like to fear gun violence on a daily basis. And I do not experience constant racial prejudice or bias. Do you? And if we look beyond these

quagmire issues, and instead focus on just building bridges with other communities and learning to see the world from another point-of-view, there is much we can gain from FUSE and the potential partnerships it will foster. Is FUSE going to solve all our issues? No. It's not a cure-all, but it IS a step forward, and something that you and I, in our little corner of the world, can concretely do to bring peace and understanding into the world, rather than hate and destruction.

I don't know if this is the "correct" path to take. But I believe leadership is about taking a risk, and taking a leap of faith. In this week's parashah, Moses and Aaron face several rebellions from disgruntled Israelites. Are they right; are they wrong? Who's to say? We can get bogged down in the specifics, and we can obsess over criticizing and

assigning blame. At its core, Moses is sticking his neck out. He's being a leader, and he's doing the best he can. It's always easier to complain and undermine on the sidelines. The dissenters may have a point, they may even be right. But there are times when strong leadership is needed, and someone has got to grab the reigns, pick a path, and just start walking. There was a lot of chaos in that wilderness, and they might have still been stranded there if Moses hadn't taken charge. We're in a wilderness of our own right now, and sometimes it feels like there's no path forward out of the violence and hate. Let's forge that path; let's fuse it together with others in our community. And let us be leaders to those around us and strive to affect real change. I hope you will choose to walk this road with me.

Photos in this blog post:
1. Image of Heeding God's Call's Memorial to the Lost (victims of gun violence in our county, each represented by a t-shirt) courtesy of Ohev Shalom.
2. CC image of "Stop violence!" sculpture in Petach Tikva, Israel courtesy of Dr. Avishai Teicher on Wikimedia Commons
3. Image from one of the first FUSE events in March, 2015
4. CC image courtesy of Richard Webb on Wikimedia Commons

Shelach Lecha: A Spy's Report About Jewish Life in Europe

I feel like I have a lot in common with the two protagonists in this week's Torah portion. I didn't expect to feel this way (and I actually hope I don't have TOO much in common with them, as you'll hear in a

minute...), but what can you do? In our parashah, Shelach Lecha, we read about the twelve spies that Moses sent into the land of Canaan to determine whether the Israelites could conquer it or not. Two of the spies, Joshua and Caleb, came back with a favorable report, while the other ten said that all hope was lost. The enemies were too strong, the land too harsh, and the odds of success were zero. Naturally, the Israelites believed the majority of the cohort, and threatened to kill the other two for their dissent. Today, I come to you with a surprisingly optimistic account from a faraway land, and I hope you'll receive it a little bit better than did our ancient ancestors...

Last week, I traveled to Europe with a group of rabbis, community leaders, and congregants, as part of a mission through the Masorti (Conservative) movement. We visited Jewish communities in Budapest, Hungary; Paris, France; and London, England. As you know,

Anti-Semitism is rampant in Europe. Muslim extremism has destroyed the continent, the Jews are all making aliyah to Israel, and all hope is lost. Well, that's at least what I've come to believe that you THINK you know about European Jewry. On a nearly daily basis, I get e-mails from congregants with articles about the terrors facing European Jews across the continent, and especially in my home community of Stockholm, Sweden. And if you read nearly any Jewish newspaper in this country, that is indeed what you've likely come to believe. But like Joshua and Caleb, the spies sent by Moses, I implore you not to believe the stereotypes, sensationalist headlines, and common assumptions that plague our community. It simply isn't true.

Look, I'm not going to pretend it's all sunshine and roses. Even Caleb and Joshua had to admit there were challenges. In Paris, we saw armed guards outside synagogues, and in Budapest and Paris we were encouraged not to wear our kippot in public. Is there Anti-Semitism?

Yes. Are community leaders worried about right-wing governments and religious fundamentalists? Certainly; it can't be denied. But it's NOT the entire picture. In London, we met with representatives from NEW congregations, recently established across the continent. When was the last time you met someone in America who started a brand new synagogue or congregation? Did you read the most recent Pew Research study? Jews in America are DIS-affiliating, and congregations are closing their doors. And in Europe? The Masorti movement has new communities in Valencia, Spain; Alicante, Spain; Brussels, Belgium; Nice, France (yes, even in France); Almere (near Amsterdam), Holland (and a second one is opening soon); Lisbon, Portugal; and many more! Two new rabbis just graduated American rabbinical schools and are moving back to England to serve emerging communities, and a good friend of mine was just installed as the Chief Rabbi in Stockholm. Even more remarkable than all this: Our movement just opened a NEW rabbinical school in Berlin, Germany!!

I am sure that, in response to this post, you will be tempted to send me articles disagreeing with my assessment. You might even be drafting an

e-mail to me with ten or MORE articles showing how horrible life in Europe is for the Jews. And hey, they were written by locals, so they must be true, right? And they must encapsulate the ENTIRE experience for European Jews, no?? Ten out of twelve spies may return with only messages of doom and gloom. And I can't say any of them are lying or have ulterior motives. All I can tell you is what I saw with my own eyes, and share with you the words of the people I spoke to in person. Jewish communities in Europe are growing... A LOT! I know you don't believe me. I know it sounds impossible. Just don't pelt me with rocks if you disagree. Instead, maybe take a trip and see for yourself. I guarantee it, you'll be thoroughly amazed.

Photos in this blogpost from my Masorti Mission to Europe:
1. The Dohany Street Synagogue in Budapest - the second largest synagogue in the world!
2. Candles and memorial tributes outside Hyper Cacher, the Kosher supermarket in Paris that was attacked in January.
3. Inside the Rashi Synagogue in Troyes, France.
4. Praying with other rabbis and good friends, in London at the end of our trip.

Naso: Using Words Before Goats

Next week, I am going to be away. I will be participating in a Conservative Movement Mission trip to visit Jewish communities in Budapest, Paris, and London. I will most likely not be writing a blog post, but will then be back in the swing of things again the following week. Enjoy this week's post, and I'll speak to you all again soon!

A big theme here at Ohev Shalom this past year has been relationships; how do we create a more Relational Judaism? This isn't just an institutional or leadership-focused question, it's a personal one, and an interpersonal one, as well. How do I connect more with the people around me? How do I expand AND deepen my concern for others, both within and outside my community? Our Torah portion this week, Naso, deals with this same question in a very interesting way. It starts out with a goat and a priest, but really it's looking much, much deeper, at questions that affect how you and I live our lives here today.

So the animal sacrifice and the Temple priest are part of an elaborate ritual to apologize for something. "When a man or woman commits any wrong toward a fellow man... and that person realizes his (or her) guilt, he shall confess the wrong that he has done, [and] he shall make restitution in the principal amount... in addition to the ram of expiation with which expiation is made on his behalf" (Numbers, 5:6-8). So the 

last line of that ritual tells us that the offender must bring a sacrifice to the Temple... but it's interesting that he FIRST needs to confess what he's done and make restitution. In other words, the Torah is making sure that you and I know that you can't beg God for forgiveness when you've wronged another person. The sacrifice is not a magical get-out-of-jail card that helps you avoid the awkward moment of apologizing; that "sorry" is still very much needed. And it must be directed to the right person.

In a great Torah commentary on this subject, Rabbi Shai Held highlights several interesting points. First, he quotes Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler, who emphasizes the importance of actual words when you're trying to improve yourself. You can't just THINK about changing, "because when one adds speech to thoughts and feelings, they become firmly established in one's heart. 

The spiritual level one attains through repentance is thus finally established and determined by speech." Rabbi Held then connects this notion to my original point, relationships. He challenges all of us by comparing what it means to "feel sorry" and to SAY "I'm sorry." Rabbi Held writes: "When I regret having treated someone poorly, my regret is, at first, purely internal: It is about me and my relationship to my own character and actions. It is only when I express my regret - when I apologize - that I create a relational space between me and the person I have wronged."

On the one hand, we all know the power of words. Yet, on the other, we still try to find shortcuts, or we think things will be "easier" if we leave them unspoken. Confrontations, apologies, calling someone out; these can all be uncomfortable, awkward, or even hurtful. But they're also 

necessary. We cannot be in authentic relationship with one another without expressing our feelings and our pains. You may not be using a goat or an ancient ritual, but I challenge you to think about times in your life (or in the past week!) when you've tried to move past a difficult situation without directly confronting or addressing the person you REALLY needed to speak to. I'm guessing it's not just me... So let's resolve to try and push ourselves to speak freely and openly a little more often. It will lead to better relationships with all the people around us, but it will also improve our sense of authenticity within ourselves. And let's give the sacrificial (scape) goats a little rest, shall we? They've been through enough...

Photos in this blog post:
1. Image of Relational Judaism, by Dr. Ron Wolfson, courtesy of Rabbi Gerber's iPhone.
2. Clipart image
3. CC image courtesy of junkyardsparkle on Wikimedia Commons
4. CC image of William Holman Hunt's "The Scapegoat" courtesy of Dmitry Rozhkov on Wikimedia Commons

B'Midbar: Don't Run From the Wilderness!

Interesting things happen in the wilderness. I'm not necessarily referring only to the Bible, but if we stick with the Torah for now, you can certainly see plenty of examples of this. Abraham travels through the wilderness, at God's command, to find his new home; he sends a servant back through the desert to find a wife for his son, Isaac; Jacob disappears off into the outback to go live with Laban; Joseph is sold into slavery somewhere in the fields; Moses flees from Pharaoh's wrath into the hinterland; centuries later, King David escapes various plots by hiding in the wilderness, and on and on and on. Of course, the entire story of the Exodus is itself about life "in the desert," "B'Midbar"! As a theme, a literary device, the wilderness serves a crucial function, and not only for our Biblical ancestors, but for you and me as well.

The wild is vulnerable, it's dangerous, it's unknown. And yet, it also represents opportunity, excitement, plot development, and - perhaps most importantly - a clean start. Time and again, our ancestors travel into the bush to reset, to shed an old life and begin again. For Abraham, Jacob, Moses, and 

indeed the entire population of the Children of Israel, they go into the wilderness one way, and come out the other side changed, evolved, matured, and enlightened. Well, that's the hope anyway... This week, our Torah portion is called B'Midbar, as it is the first parashah in the fourth Book of the Torah, which is also called B'Midbar in Hebrew. The entire book focuses on the life of the Israelites in the desert over the course of their forty years of wandering. In addition, this weekend we celebrate the holiday of Shavuot, when we received the Torah at Mount Sinai... in the wilderness. Shavuot is the holiday when we read another story from our ancient tradition, namely the Book of Ruth. And Ruth ALSO has a story about beginning her life anew by sojourning through the desert.

After her father-in-law and her husband both die, Ruth leaves her home in Moab, and sets forth with her mother-in-law, Naomi, to make a new life in Canaan. Along the way (in the wild...), she basically converts to Judaism. There is much we could focus on in this story, but for our purposes here, let's just acknowledge the significance of the journey itself. Ruth has a transformative experience of traveling through no-man's land and emerging on the other side a changed 

woman. What happens to her in the desert? What happens to ALL our ancestors when they disappear off into the sandy, desolate, sun-baked unknown? I'd like to suggest a couple of things. First, it's quiet. All the other voices in our lives, the narratives we hold onto, the "should's" and the "must's," they all melt away. Alone with our own minds and hearts, we can achieve some clarity, and perhaps see a new path forward that was much too obscured before. Second, it's vulnerable. This seems like a bad thing, but it really isn't. We strip away all our securities and the guarantees we tell ourselves we MUST retain, and something amazing emerges. All the "stuff" we held onto, that we were certain we couldn't live without, really wasn't so essential after all. Not only that, it might have actually been holding us back!

In the desert, we rely on ourselves. An internal strength and bravery arises that we never knew existed. Our eyes open up, our hearts expand, and our lungs breath new air that seems fresher and sweeter. But again, the wilderness is scary, it's risky. There are no assurances, and the dangers are real. Yet somehow, for every, single one of our ancestors - from Abraham, to Ruth, to her great-grandson, King David - it was worth it. The reward of 

self-discovery and a life of purpose and meaning was precious enough that they were willing to take that first daunting step off into the unknown. I'm sure you've figured this out by now, but the wilderness is a metaphor. For us it can be a scary, lengthy trip abroad, a silent retreat, transitioning to a new job, contemplating having a child, entering the housing market as a buyer OR seller; whatever it might be, there ARE wildernesses in our lives today. The desert is the journey, NOT the destination. Don't focus on the end result; the thing you're working or moving towards. Instead, look at that step (or steps) in between. What does THAT look like? And what could it look like for you? There is so much we can learn in there - in that awkward, risky, unpredictable middle stage - after we've taken the leap but before we've landed. Don't let that opportunity go to waste. Spend some time in the wilderness; you never know how it might change you.

Photos in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of Yuvalr on Wikimedia Commons
2. CC image courtesy of brewbooks on Wikimedia Commons
3. CC image courtesy of Jim Padgett on Wikimedia Commons
4. CC image of Fyodor Kamensky's "First Step" courtesy of Stebanoid on Wikimedia Commons