Parshat Re’eh
August 29, 2008/ 28 Av 5768
“See, I place before you this day a blessing and a curse.” (Deut 11:26)
This Monday begins of the Hebrew month of Elul, the period of reflection and introspection that leads up to the High Holidays. The dominant theme of this time is teshuvah-- the process of closing the gap between our past actions and our visions of our best selves.
Parshat Re’eh begins with an admonition to choose blessing over curse by choosing to listen to God’s voice rather than ignore it. The S’fat Emet, a masterwork of Hassidic thought written by Rav Yehuda Leib Alter of Ger, focuses on this line and argues that it teaches us a fundamental lesson about teshuvah.
He teaches that when the Torah says: “I place before you this day,” it does not mean one specific day in the ancient past, but rather that every single day we have the choice between blessing and curse, between living up to our God-given potential for goodness and squandering that gift. It is a choice that we have to make again and again, every day of our lives.
Sometimes, inevitably, we will make the wrong choices. The gift of teshuvah is that yesterday’s bad choices do not need to define our tomorrows. We always have the power to make new choices, to set a new moral course for ourselves. In Judaism, we are influenced by our past, but we are not bound by it.
Over this next month of Elul, may we seize the opportunity to examine the path that we are on and know that we have the opportunity, this day and every day, for a new beginning. And that freedom is truly a blessing.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Parshat Ekev
Parshat Ekev
August 22, 2008/ 21 Av 5768
Baruch t’hiyeh mi-kol ha-amim/ You will be blessed from all other peoples. (Deut 7:14)
This somewhat ambiguously worded verse from the beginning of Parshat Ekev suggests two possible relationships between Israel and the other nations of the world, and more broadly, two possible modes of human relations generally.
The first way to read this pasuk is as a promise that Israel will be blessed above the other nations of the world. That is to say, if the Jewish people is faithful to God’s commandments, then they will be the favored among God’s children and will receive the most bountiful rewards. In fact, this appears to be the contextual (p’shat) meaning of this text-- given that it is found amidst a collection of blessings which God pledges to bestow if they are obedient.
However, it is a matter of Jewish religious conviction that no verse in the Torah is relegated to only following its contextual meaning. Another possibility, and one favored by the Rabbis in Deuteronomy Rabbah, is to understand the verse this way: “You will be blessed by all of the other nations of the world.” In this understanding of the verse, the author of the blessing is not God, but rather other human beings. If Israel behaves in a holy manner, then the other nations of the world will experience their goodness and call them a blessing.
This verse provides two ways of relating to those around us. One way to approach others is as competitors for prosperity and blessing. In a world of scarce resources, only some of us can receive the full measure of good things, and so we are out to live in such a way as to gain the greatest advantage. Another way of approaching others is as potential allies. In this way of looking at things, the world is full of blessings if we will only share them. The goal is to live in such a way that we are blessings to one another-- that my presence in the world enhances your life and your presence in the world enhances mine.
As with any teaching from the Torah, no one interpretation is correct. There is a time for competition and a time for cooperation, a time to be the best and a time to seek to celebrate the best in others. This Shabbat, may we be greatly blessed and may we seek to be a blessing to those around us.
August 22, 2008/ 21 Av 5768
Baruch t’hiyeh mi-kol ha-amim/ You will be blessed from all other peoples. (Deut 7:14)
This somewhat ambiguously worded verse from the beginning of Parshat Ekev suggests two possible relationships between Israel and the other nations of the world, and more broadly, two possible modes of human relations generally.
The first way to read this pasuk is as a promise that Israel will be blessed above the other nations of the world. That is to say, if the Jewish people is faithful to God’s commandments, then they will be the favored among God’s children and will receive the most bountiful rewards. In fact, this appears to be the contextual (p’shat) meaning of this text-- given that it is found amidst a collection of blessings which God pledges to bestow if they are obedient.
However, it is a matter of Jewish religious conviction that no verse in the Torah is relegated to only following its contextual meaning. Another possibility, and one favored by the Rabbis in Deuteronomy Rabbah, is to understand the verse this way: “You will be blessed by all of the other nations of the world.” In this understanding of the verse, the author of the blessing is not God, but rather other human beings. If Israel behaves in a holy manner, then the other nations of the world will experience their goodness and call them a blessing.
This verse provides two ways of relating to those around us. One way to approach others is as competitors for prosperity and blessing. In a world of scarce resources, only some of us can receive the full measure of good things, and so we are out to live in such a way as to gain the greatest advantage. Another way of approaching others is as potential allies. In this way of looking at things, the world is full of blessings if we will only share them. The goal is to live in such a way that we are blessings to one another-- that my presence in the world enhances your life and your presence in the world enhances mine.
As with any teaching from the Torah, no one interpretation is correct. There is a time for competition and a time for cooperation, a time to be the best and a time to seek to celebrate the best in others. This Shabbat, may we be greatly blessed and may we seek to be a blessing to those around us.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Parshat Vaethannan
Parshat Vaethannan
August 15, 2008/15 Av 5768
"Hear O Israel, Adonai is Our God, Adonai is One" (Deut 6:4)
Parshat Vaethannan is the source for the Sh'ma— the most essential of Jewish prayers. Yet, as has often been noted, the Sh'ma is not a conventional prayer at all. Typically, a prayer consists of petitions directed at God, but the Sh'ma is directed at the People Israel. We are the ones who are asked to do something— we are asked to hear.
Most of us are not terribly good at serious listening. That's not to say that we don't communicate— we are constantly talking. If you are anything like me you chat on your cell phone while running errands, send and receive countless emails a day, and perhaps even text message, instant message, and facebook message on a regular basis. The trouble is, for all this talking, we only rarely take the time or opportunity to actually listen to others. And, truthfully, since others have the same problem—only rarely does anyone actually listen to us. We have forgotten the wisdom that all of our mother's once told us—"The Good Lord gave us two ears and only one mouth for a reason!"
I just got back from working and learning with two groups of Jewish teenagers on the Navajo Reservation. One of the highlights of that experience was a nightly ritual called "Circle." In Circle, everyone would gather under the brilliant night sky, and one by one each person would have the chance to speak, uninterrupted, while everyone else listened to them. The only instructions were that everyone should strive to speak from their heart when it was their turn and spend the rest of the time listening with their heart.
At first it was a little awkward—no one knew for sure how much they could risk opening themselves up to this group of strangers. But quickly, the participants seized the opportunity to have people really pay attention to them—and began to share stories of personal triumph and personal pain, experiences with their families and friends, their dreams and their fears. It was powerful to witness—when they knew that they are being sincerely listened to, even normally stoic teenagers suddenly have a lot to share.
Over the course of the program, nearly every one of them commented to me about how hard it is to find people in their lives who listen to them, and many of them recognized that they don't often give their friends or family their full ears either. Truthfully, the problem is not just one for teenagers. No matter our age or position in life, all of us struggle to find people who will not just hear our words, but really hear us. And we all have work to do in order to cultivate our own lev shome'ah, our "hearing heart."
Martin Buber wrote that we only spend a fraction of our lives engaged in what he famously termed: "I-Thou" relationships—the kind of encounters with other human beings in which we listen deeply to one another and are able to move beyond superficial exchange. Despite their rarity, the moments of I-Thou—when people in love talk softly to one another, when a parent relates to their child, when friends get lost in conversation, or teenagers share their stories under the stars—are the moments which lend quality and substance to our lives and invite the Holy One into the world.
The Sh'ma invites and challenges us to learn how to listen. It reminds us that listening is the beginning of meaningful relationships with one another. And coming together in relationships based on compassion and sincere communication, where all the barriers that separate us begin to fall down, is our best way to live out the deepest meaning of the phrase "Adonai Echad"—that the essence of God is Oneness.
August 15, 2008/15 Av 5768
"Hear O Israel, Adonai is Our God, Adonai is One" (Deut 6:4)
Parshat Vaethannan is the source for the Sh'ma— the most essential of Jewish prayers. Yet, as has often been noted, the Sh'ma is not a conventional prayer at all. Typically, a prayer consists of petitions directed at God, but the Sh'ma is directed at the People Israel. We are the ones who are asked to do something— we are asked to hear.
Most of us are not terribly good at serious listening. That's not to say that we don't communicate— we are constantly talking. If you are anything like me you chat on your cell phone while running errands, send and receive countless emails a day, and perhaps even text message, instant message, and facebook message on a regular basis. The trouble is, for all this talking, we only rarely take the time or opportunity to actually listen to others. And, truthfully, since others have the same problem—only rarely does anyone actually listen to us. We have forgotten the wisdom that all of our mother's once told us—"The Good Lord gave us two ears and only one mouth for a reason!"
I just got back from working and learning with two groups of Jewish teenagers on the Navajo Reservation. One of the highlights of that experience was a nightly ritual called "Circle." In Circle, everyone would gather under the brilliant night sky, and one by one each person would have the chance to speak, uninterrupted, while everyone else listened to them. The only instructions were that everyone should strive to speak from their heart when it was their turn and spend the rest of the time listening with their heart.
At first it was a little awkward—no one knew for sure how much they could risk opening themselves up to this group of strangers. But quickly, the participants seized the opportunity to have people really pay attention to them—and began to share stories of personal triumph and personal pain, experiences with their families and friends, their dreams and their fears. It was powerful to witness—when they knew that they are being sincerely listened to, even normally stoic teenagers suddenly have a lot to share.
Over the course of the program, nearly every one of them commented to me about how hard it is to find people in their lives who listen to them, and many of them recognized that they don't often give their friends or family their full ears either. Truthfully, the problem is not just one for teenagers. No matter our age or position in life, all of us struggle to find people who will not just hear our words, but really hear us. And we all have work to do in order to cultivate our own lev shome'ah, our "hearing heart."
Martin Buber wrote that we only spend a fraction of our lives engaged in what he famously termed: "I-Thou" relationships—the kind of encounters with other human beings in which we listen deeply to one another and are able to move beyond superficial exchange. Despite their rarity, the moments of I-Thou—when people in love talk softly to one another, when a parent relates to their child, when friends get lost in conversation, or teenagers share their stories under the stars—are the moments which lend quality and substance to our lives and invite the Holy One into the world.
The Sh'ma invites and challenges us to learn how to listen. It reminds us that listening is the beginning of meaningful relationships with one another. And coming together in relationships based on compassion and sincere communication, where all the barriers that separate us begin to fall down, is our best way to live out the deepest meaning of the phrase "Adonai Echad"—that the essence of God is Oneness.
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