Pesach 5769

Pesach 5769

I have been reflecting a lot lately about the idea of a “window of opportunity.” A window of opportunity is a process in time during which something goes from being impossible to being possible to slipping back into impossibility. Some times that process is very quick-- blink and its gone, other times it’s much more generous-- you can take your time, wander a bit, the opportunity will still be there, waiting for you when you arrive. The trick, of course, is to distinguish one type from the other.

Matzah, the central food of this Passover season, is all about a “window of opportunity.” According to Jewish law, the whole process of making matzah-- from mixing the dough to placing the finished sheet in the oven-- must be completed in under 18 minutes. If it goes one second over the allotted time, the matzah become chametz and is forbidden to be eaten on Passover. My teacher, Reb Mimi Feigelson, explains matzah as a metaphor for the moments in our lives that we have to grab with both hands, because if we delay for even an instant they will spoil.

Another window of opportunity: Wednesday morning is a very special Jewish ritual, Birchat ha-Chama, the Blessing of the Sun, which happens once every 28 years. The custom comes from the Talmud and is based on the ancient astrological idea that the sun moves in cycles and that every 28 years it comes into the position that it was in at the moment of Creation. In honor of such an auspicious occasion, I plan to get up at 5:30 AM to head up to the Tayelet boardwalk overlooking Jerusalem to watch the sunrise and recite the special words. If I sleep in and forget to say the blessing tomorrow, I will miss the chance to fulfill a ritual obligation that I can’t do again until I am 52 years old. Talk about grabbing a narrow window of opportunity!

I am coming near to the end of my year in Israel-- only two months remain of this precious and challenging experience. I realize now that I have to make a choice-- will I seize my window of opportunity in this country, to do this things that I have been meaning to do, to solidify forming relationships and forge new ones, to learn the last pieces of Torah that I came here to learn, or will I let the last two months slip away? When put that way, the right answer seems obvious-- but as with so many things, the practice is much harder than the theory. Recognizing that time is fleeting and making the most of it is a spiritual practice that takes conscious, daily work.

In Jewish tradition, Pesach is seen as a parallel New Years to Rosh Ha’Shanah-- so it seems right that this too should be a season of self-examination and re-committing to our higher values. As we meditate on what it means to be free, we should also take the time to reflect on what we are doing with our freedom-- whether we are using it wisely, seizing every precious opportunity, before the window slips shut.

Parshat Vayiggash

Parshat Vayiggash
Jan 2, 2009/ 6 Tevet 5769

"I am Joseph, your brother." (Gen. 45:4)

I will never forget the first question that I was asked in my interview for rabbinical school. Rabbi Aaron Alexander asked me: "If you could teach only one text, what text would it be?" My answer today is the same as my answer was then-- of all the beautiful texts that I love to teach, there is one that stays with me every single day and that I believe holds the key to the transformation of the world.

The Mishnah, the first collection of Jewish law, enters into a short excursus in the middle of the laws of criminal procedure, in order to teach us about Creation. It asks the following question-- Why was Adam HaRishon, the first man, created all alone? Here is its answer:

"Therefore, Adam was created alone in the world, in order to teach that whosoever destroys one life, the Torah considers it as though he destroyed the entire world. And, whosoever saves one life, the Torah considers it as though he saved the entire world.

And it is also for the sake of peace among people, so that no man can say to his fellow 'My father is greater than your father"…

And also to portray the grandeur of the Sovereign of sovereigns, Blessed be God, since when a person stamps many coins with a single seal, they are all alike. But when the Sovereign of sovereigns, Blessed be God, fashioned all human beings with the seal with which he made the first person, not one of them is like any other." (Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5)

Our Mishnah instructs us that Adam was created alone to teach three things. First, that every single human life is infinitely precious-- that any loss of life is equivalent to the destruction of the entire world and any act which protects and preserves life is equivalent to saving the entire world. Second, that we are all of us brothers and sisters-- that no matter our differences, we are part of a single human family. And finally, that our uniqueness is to be celebrated, not feared, that our diversity is a testament to God's awesome majesty.

In this week's Torah portion, Joseph, who was long ago sold into slavery and later rose to become grand vizier over Egypt, is reunited with his brothers. At first, he does not reveal his identity and his brothers cannot recognize him. Finally, after many painful interactions, Joseph is unable to restrain himself any longer and declares: "I am Joseph, your brother!" In a moment, the vizier and his pleading visitors recognize each other for what they were all along-- brothers, the children of a single father.

This has been a terrible, bloody week here in Israel. In response to enormous and ongoing provocation, the IDF is currently engaged in a massive operation in the Gaza Strip. Israeli bombs have killed hundreds, including many civilians, in the just the past few days, and Hamas rockets continue to pound the Israeli South. There is no end in immediate sight. I will not use my parsha email to weigh in politically on what Israel ought to be doing or not doing in Gaza. However, I think that no matter our political beliefs, we would all do well this week to remember that we are all brothers and sisters, the children of a single Parent. And, we must all enter this Shabbat with heavy hearts at the ongoing news of what brothers and sisters of capable of doing to each other.

I hope we can all join together in praying for the day when all humanity will recognize our commonality and when each and every human life will be treated as a unique and precious manifestation of the Divine. May it come soon.