Torah Sparks 5767

PARASHAT BEREISHEIT - BIRKAT HAHODESH
October 21, 2006
Annual: Genesis 1:1 – 6:8 (Etz Hayim, p. 3; Hertz p. 2)

Triennial Cycle: Genesis 5:1 – 6:8 (Etz Hayim, p. 30; Hertz p. 16)
Haftarah: I Samuel: 20:18 – 42 (Etz Hayim, p. 1216; Hertz p. 948)
Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen
An Invitation
As we begin a new Torah-reading cycle, all Jews are invited to renew our
relationship with the Torah. The text may be understood on a variety of levels.
Even if you are well acquainted with the basic story line, there are opportunities
to probe deeper and to explore the values that lie beneath the surface of the
text. If you are willing to undertake the challenge, we will make every effort to
match your efforts through the weekly Torah Sparks.
Summary of the Parashah
The Torah opens with the familiar story of creation. God is depicted as creating
the world in seven days. Every aspect of creation is portrayed as being
purposeful, not random. The culmination of God’s work is the creation of a day
of rest.
Man is situated in the Garden of Eden and presented with Woman, who will be
his peer and partner. They are given rules about the fruit of the trees in the
Garden, and they break these rules. Thus ends their idyllic stay in that carefree
environment.
Adam and Eve have children. These children, once grown, manage to argue
until one kills the other. The Torah spares us the details of their bickering, as if
to assert that the particulars of the argument are far less important than their
utter lack of respect for human life.
The balance of the parashah occupies itself mostly with the genealogy of the
generations between Adam and Noah. At the end of the parashah, we are told
that God was dissatisfied with the behavior of the creatures in the world that
God had created. This sets the stage for next week’s story of Noah.
Issue # 1: The Value of Human Life
The Torah describes the first human being as the deliberate product of God’s
creation. This description of God creating an individual human being, rather
than a batch of human beings, has broad implications. Consider the following
passage from the Mishnah (Sanhedrin 4:5):
For this reason, man [i.e. the first human being] was created alone: to teach that
whoever destroys a single life is as if he had destroyed an entire universe, and
whoever sustains a single life is as if he had sustained an entire universe.
Moreover [the first human was created as an individual] for the sake of peace
among men, so that no one could [legitimately] say to his peer: “My ancestor
was greater than yours.”
On a surface level, this Mishnah text makes it clear that human life must be
valued and safeguarded. What other implications might we draw from this text
a. for parents or teachers?

b. for the way that we relate to our peers?
c. for relating to those less fortunate than ourselves?
Issue #2: Genesis vs. Darwin
We are well aware that Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution, which is widely
accepted in scientific circles, was developed without regard for its possible
contradiction of the account of creation transmitted in the opening chapter of
Genesis. This apparent conflict has inflamed passions in America, from the
Scopes trial in Tennessee in 1925 to the recent debate over creationism as a
theory proposed for inclusion in the science curricula of public schools. For
example, the idea that our planet is billions (or at least millions) of years old
seems to contradict the Jewish notion that the Earth was created less than
6,000 years ago.
The Torah does not pretend to be a textbook of science or of history. It is

instead a transmitter of timeless values. But if we choose to read the Torah as if
it were a chronicle of natural history, we might find that the chronological conflict
with Darwin is less pronounced than we might have imagined. Consider the
absence of the sun, in Chapter 1 of Genesis, until the fourth day of creation.
This implies that the days described in this creation story are not 24-hour days,
but rather periods of time whose length is unknown.
Reread the creation story with this thought in mind. How can we now reconcile
the broad outlines of the creation story in Genesis 1 with Darwin’s theory of
evolution? What details, if any, might still have to be reconciled?
On the other hand, even if we are successful at reconciling the broad sequence
of creation with the broad sequence of evolution, there is still a
significantdifference in perspective between Genesis and Darwin. Darwin’s
theory requires random mutations in order for species to evolve. Once a
mutation has occurred, then his principle of “survival of the fittest” takes over. In
this way, postulates Darwin, species adapt and survive. However, the notion of
random mutations is foreign to the worldview expressed in Genesis, in which all
aspects of creation are deemed to have a divine purpose. This gap is more
difficult to bridge than the chronological gap. Can you think of any ways to
resolve this difference?
PARASHAT NOAH
October 28, 2006
Annual: Genesis 6:9-11:32 (Etz Hayim, p. 41; Hertz p. 26)

Haftarah: Isaiah: 54:1 – 55:5 (Etz Hayim, p. 65; Hertz p. 41)
At the conclusion of last week’s Torah portion, we learned that God was
disappointed with the way our world was unfolding and so decided to make a
fresh start. This week’s Torah portion opens with Noah being singled out to
salvage a remnant of that world. In a story that is familiar to us all, God singles
out Noah to build an ark that will save human beings – Noah’s family – and
many species of animals from the impending flood. Noah follows this
commandment faithfully.
As the floodwaters eventually recede, Noah sends forth first a raven and then a
dove to ascertain whether the earth is again habitable. Eventually, God
commands Noah and his family to exit the ark and to get on with their lives. In
addition to being directed to be fruitful and to multiply, they are given some
restrictions that define a framework for their lives. God offers a covenant to
Noah in which He promises never again to destroy the entire world by flood.
The rainbow becomes the sign of this covenant.
After the Torah compiles a genealogical summary, it relates the story of the
tower of Babel, in which communications went seriously awry.
In the final verses of Parashat Noah, we are introduced to Abram (later

Abraham), who followed Noah by 10 generations.
Issue #1: The Noahide Commandments
According to Jewish tradition, Noah and his descendants were given seven
divine commandments as a framework for human society. These
commandments are often referred to as the Sheva Mitzvot B’nei Noah, or the
Noahide Laws, because all subsequent human life could trace its genealogy to
Noah. (Noah and his anonymous wife, along with Noah’s three sons and their
wives, were the only human beings reported to have survived the flood.) A
concise summary of the seven Noahide Commandments follows. (How these
specific commandments are derived from the text of the Torah is beyond the
scope of this discussion.)
I. Prohibition against worshipping false gods.

II. Prohibition against blasphemy.
III. Prohibition against murder.
IV. Prohibition against immoral sexual activity (incest, adultery, bestiality,
etc.).
V. Prohibition against stealing.
VI. Prohibition against eating flesh that was torn from the body of a live
animal.
VII. The requirement to set up a system of courts, laws, and enforcement.
The Talmud understands these seven principles to be behavioral requirements

for all human beings, not just for Jews.
Questions for Discussion:
1. What is special about the Noahide laws that would cause them to be
postulated as binding on all human society?
2. As Jews, we are aware that there are many more commandments that
we are expected to fulfill. (The number 613 leaps to mind.) Why do we
need so many additional commandments? What do they add to the
religious quality of our lives?
Issue #2: The Tower of Babel
In Chapter 11 we read the familiar story of the tower of Babel. On a surface

level, this story belongs here mainly to resolve the problem created by the
Torah telling us that all peoples have a common origin, although people around
the world actually speak many different languages.
This story is told in a value-laden manner. Human beings sought to make their
mark in a way that challenged divine supremacy over the world. The divine
response was to mix up their communications in order to thwart their apparently
unholy initiative, and to scatter humankind over the face of the earth. This era is
referred to in rabbinic literature as dor hap'lagah, the generation of division.
Are we, in our generation, also at risk of a communication breakdown? We live

in a society characterized by increasingly complex and specialized
communication. Jargon gets in the way of understanding so frequently that a
new word – technobabble – has surfaced, referring to phrases that are so
specialized that they fail to communicate sensibly. How can we avoid, for our
generation, the fate of dor hap'lagah?
PARASHAT VAYERA
November 11, 2006
Annual: Genesis 18:1 - 22:24 (Etz Hayim, p. 99; Hertz p. 63)

Haftarah: II Kings 4:1 – 37 (Etz Hayim, p. 124; Hertz p. 76)
Abraham receives three strangers who come to visit, in a way that demonstrate
that both he and Sarah are highly solicitous hosts. We imagine that welcoming
strangers is a regular event in this household. (The midrash amplifies this
feeling by picturing Abraham’s tent as being open on all sides, so that he might
readily spot passing travelers and welcome them.)
On this particular day, one of the visitors delivers the unlikely message that in a
year’s time, Sarah will bear a son. Abraham and Sarah, by now both advanced
in age, are incredulous but happy.
After the strangers depart, God shares with Abraham the plans to destroy
Sodom and the neighboring towns. Abraham takes God to task for possibly
planning to destroy the righteous along with the wicked. God accepts
Abraham’s point. After some negotiation, they agree that if 10 righteous people
can be found within Sodom, then the entire city will be spared.
Not only were 10 not found, but we also are shown a sample of the cruel and
corrupt behavior of the townspeople. The city definitely is to be destroyed.
However, Abraham’s semi-righteous nephew, Lot, and his household are to be
saved.
Abraham migrates to the land of the Philistines. Again he refers to Sarah as his
sister, and confusion ensues.
Months later, Sarah gives birth to a son, who is named Isaac. She soon
becomes concerned about the behavior of Ishmael, the teenage son of Hagar
the concubine. Sarah delivers an ultimatum to Abraham: “Cast out that slave-
woman and her son.” Abraham, caught in the middle, turns to God for guidance.
God tells Abraham to listen to Sarah.
Abraham completes a treaty with the Philistine king to resolve a dispute over
water rights. God commands Abraham to bind Isaac as a sacrifice upon an altar
at a location to which God will guide Abraham. Abraham and Isaac comply. At
the last minute, a voice from heaven cancels the command to sacrifice Isaac.
Issue #1: Primogeniture vs. Personal Merit
The Bible displays some ambivalence between respecting the ancient tradition
of primogeniture (preferring the first-born consistently) and requiring that
children demonstrate their worthiness to lead through their actions.
In Genesis 21:12, God reassures Abraham that protecting the later-born Isaac
and dismissing the first-born Ishmael is an appropriate course of action, “… for
it is through Isaac that offspring shall be continued for you.” In commenting on
this verse, Rabbi Max Arzt (1897-1975) wrote:
A recurrent theme of the early biblical narratives is the rejection of the older
brother (whose claim to distinction is based purely on the accident of
primogeniture) in favor of the younger brother. This theme is apparent in the
accounts of the preference of Isaac over Ishmael, Jacob over Esau, Judah over
Reuben, and Ephraim over Manasseh. This can suggest to us that the claim of
personal worth is higher than that of prior birth. Justice and Mercy, pp. 130-131
What are the advantages, and what are the disadvantages, of replacing a
system based on primogeniture with a system based on personal merit?
Note: This question will be treated most fruitfully as a question of public policy
rather than an opportunity to justify your own status as a first-born or later-born
child. It should also be obvious that later-born children are not automatically
assumed to possess greater merit; their behavior must demonstrate personal
merit before they can begin to justify a preferred status.
Issue #2: How old was Isaac at the time of the almost-sacrifice?
Many of us were raised on a version of the story that pictures Isaac as a young
child. This picture has been reinforced by countless paintings and other graphic
portrayals of the binding of Isaac.
Jewish tradition tells a different story. Although Isaac’s age is not given within
this narrative, it is assumed that he was at least 13 years old. If he were not, he
would be considered an extension of Abraham. We would like to believe that
Isaac, too, earned a share of the credit for obeying God’s difficult command.
The maximum age for Isaac at the time of this incident would be 37. This is
derived from the fact that Sarah, who had given birth to Isaac at age 90, dies
shortly after the binding of Isaac, at a reported age of 127. Thus, if she died
right after the incident, Isaac would have been 37 years old.
How do the possible variations in Isaac’s age affect your understanding of the
story?
After reflecting upon the different age-possibilities, which age makes the most
sense to you?
PARASHAT HAYE SARAH - BIRKAT HAHODESH
November 18, 2005

Haftarah: I Kings 1:1 – 31 (Etz Hayim, p. 143; Hertz p. 90)
Our parashah opens with the news of Sarah’s death. Abraham negotiates with
the local Hittites to buy a place to bury her. Although an exorbitant price is
quoted, Abraham is uncontentious because he seeks to close the deal promptly.
The centerpiece of this week’s Torah portion is the search for a suitable wife for
Isaac. We have read the straightforward promise that God’s covenant with
Abraham would continue through Isaac to countless generations of
descendants. But without a wife for Isaac, those descendants are a mere
abstraction.
Abraham sends his trusted senior servant to Abraham’s homeland to find the
right woman for Isaac. The story is told in detail three times, making for one of
the longest chapters in the Torah. First, we read the servant’s marching orders.
Next we read about his faithful execution of his mandate. Finally, we get the
opportunity to listen in as the servant tells the family of the wife-to-be how
fortunate it was that all the details of his mission had fit together so
expeditiously.
Following this story, and before moving on to tell us about Isaac and Rebecca’s
life together, the Torah supplies us with two paragraphs of endnotes to the life
of Abraham. First we read that Abraham remarried after the death of Sarah.
Other children were born from this union. Then, when Abraham died, Isaac and
Ishmael together buried him. This story is followed by an enumeration of the
genealogy of Ishmael’s descendants.
Issue #1: Detail and the Absence of Detail
Sometimes the Torah tells us more than the modern reader wants to know. For
example, the genealogical lists that surface periodically (e.g., 25:2-4 and 13-16)
do not seem to advance our understanding of religious values in any obvious
way. Sometimes there are lessons to be learned from these tabulations, but we
will not dwell on them today.
There are also passages in the Torah that are surprisingly sparing in the details
they transmit. Although these silences are purposeful, they are frustrating to
today’s readers. After all, we are accustomed to having access to minute detail
whenever we want it, whether in a movie or an internet search. We may find it
frustrating when the biblical narrative is so stingy in transmitting details. A case
in point is the identity of Abraham’s trusted servant in Chapter 24.
Through three tellings of the story of the search for a worthy wife for Isaac, the
Torah does not once share with us the name of the senior servant deputized by
Abraham to find the right woman for Isaac. This glaring omission is so
frustrating to readers of the Bible that for hundreds of years many biblical
commentators have sought to fill in the missing name. Eliezer, the name most
often supplied, was Abraham’s chief servant at the opening of Chapter 15.
Whether this same servant was still alive when Abraham wished to find a wife
for Isaac decades later is a matter of conjecture.
What is clear is that the biblical narrative intentionally omits the name of this
loyal servant. Perhaps there is a lesson here. Which is more important in
communicating values to the reader of the Bible, the identity of the servant or
the manner in which he carried out his responsibilities? Is there ever a value to
completing a task without calling attention to yourself?
Issue #2: Criteria for the Selection of a Matriarch
We have no record of Abraham telling his servant how to select a wife for Isaac.
We may conjecture that a senior servant in Abraham’s household had absorbed
some of the values that were central to that household. The servant seems to
have decided intuitively on a behavioral profile that would indicate a personality
suitable to be Isaac’s wife.
What personal qualities was the servant looking for, and how did he test for the
presence of those qualities in the candidate that he found?
Issue #3: Burial Responsibilities
Our parashah opens with Abraham’s responsibility to bury Sarah and closes
with Isaac’s and Ishmael’s responsibility to bury Abraham. Clearly there were no
professional funeral directors involved. The mourners themselves took
responsibility for planning the funeral and carrying out their plan.
Why is it that over the centuries the custom of delegating the physical aspects
of a funeral to professionals or to volunteers has developed?
In what ways might this enhance the funeral and the mourning process, and it
what ways might it detract?
PARASHAT TOLDOT
November 25, 2006 – 4 Kislev 5767

Triennial Cycle: Genesis 27:28-28:9 (Etz Hayim, p. 157; Hertz p. 99)
Haftarah: Malakhil 1:1 – 2:27 (Etz Hayim, p. 163; Hertz p. 102)
Isaac and his wife, Rebecca, were childless for a long time. When Rebecca
finally conceived, she learned that she was carrying twins. These fraternal twins,
who were intensely competitive even prenatally, were born with one (Jacob)
holding the heel of the other (Esau). As they grew up, Esau showed an affinity
for hunting, while Jacob became a herdsman.
One day, Jacob prepared a stew of lentils. Esau, returning hungry and tired
from the hunt, asked Jacob to feed him. Jacob took this opportunity to bargain
with Esau for the birthright. (We think that this meant both the mantle of
leadership within the family and the double portion of inheritance that was
considered the entitlement of the first-born.) Not only did Esau sell the birthright
to Jacob, but he also scoffed at any value it may have had.
Isaac continued to live in the Promised Land, following in the footsteps of his
father, Abraham. He weathered frictions with the Philistines and even undertook
treaties with them.
Jacob was still single, while Esau married a Hittite woman. Isaac and Rebecca
were both perturbed by Esau’s choice of a spouse. Later, Esau tried to find
favor in their eyes by also marrying a daughter of Ishmael, his father’s half-
brother.
When Isaac, feeling old and with failing eyesight, asked Esau to prepare some
food that might inspire him to bless Esau, Rebecca overheard the conversation
and swung into action. She pressured Jacob into disguising himself as Esau,
and she provided the food to accompany the ruse. Jacob completed this
charade before being found out by Isaac or Esau, but Esau made known his
plans to seek revenge from Jacob. Jacob had received Isaac’s premier blessing,
while Esau had to settle for an improvised blessing.
Rebecca sends Jacob to her ancestral homeland to seek a wife. (This mission
also removes Jacob from Esau’s environs at a time when Esau was vocally
upset with Jacob.) Rebecca gets Isaac to sign on to this plan as well. Jacob
prepares for his journey.
Issue # 1: The Quiet Patriarch
Isaac was a less colorful figure than Abraham or Jacob. Although he may have
been quiet, he definitely ranks as one of our patriarchs. Consider the following
passages. What does Isaac add to the unfolding saga of our people? Consider
the following passages.
Genesis 26:1-5: There was a famine in the land – aside from the first famine,
which had occurred in the days of Abraham – and Isaac went to Avimelekh,
king of the Philistines, in Gerar. The Lord had appeared to him and said, “Do
not go down to Egypt; stay in the land which I point out to you. Reside in this
land, and I will be with you and bless you; I will assign all these lands to you and
to your offspring, fulfilling the oath that I swore to your father Abraham.”
Genesis 26:18: Isaac dug anew the wells that had been dug in the days of his
father Abraham and that the Philistines had stopped up after Abraham’s death,
and he gave them the same names that his father had given them.
Genesis 26:22: He moved from there and dug yet another well, and they did
not quarrel over it; so he called it Rehovot, saying, “Now at last the Lord has
granted us ample space to increase in the land.”
Genesis 28:1-4: Isaac sent for Jacob and blessed him. He instructed him,
saying, “You shall not take a wife from among the Canaanite women. Up, go to
Paddan-aram, to the house of Bethuel, your mother’s father, and take a wife
there from among the daughters of Laban, your mother’s brother. May El
Shaddai bless you, make you fertile and numerous, so that you become an
assembly of peoples. May He grant the blessing of Abraham to you and your
offspring, that you may possess the land where you are sojourning, which God
assigned to Abraham.”
Issue #2: Special Relationships
And Esau said to his father, “Have you but one blessing, my father? Bless me,
too, my father!” And Esau wept aloud. (Genesis 27:38)
What lesson(s) can any parent of more than one child learn from this verse?
What, if anything, can any person with more than one friend learn from it?
PARASHAT VAYETZE
December 2, 2006 – 11 Kislev 5767

Haftarah: Hosea 12:13 – 14:10 (Etz Hayim, p. 189; Hertz p. 118)
Jacob’s mother has directed him to journey to her ancestral homeland. The dual
purpose of this trip is to escape Esau’s wrath and to find a wife who is not one
of the local Canaanite women.
When he gets there, Jacob meets Rachel at the local well. He is so inspired by
his immediate love of her that he is suddenly able to move a rock that ordinarily
would require the joint efforts of several shepherds to budge. After staying with
his uncle Laban, Rachel’s father, for a month, Jacob strikes a deal with Laban
that he may marry Rachel after working seven years for her father. When the
time for the wedding arrives, Laban surreptitiously substitutes Rachel’s older
sister, Leah. Negotiations the following morning give Jacob the right to marry
Rachel a week later, in exchange for a pledge of seven more years of work.
Eventually, Jacob remains with Laban for six years beyond that, for a total of 20
years.
Leah is fertile, giving birth to six sons and a daughter. Rachel has one son.
Rachel and Leah have each given Jacob a concubine, and each concubine
bears two sons as well.
Jacob and Laban have made a deal to compensate Jacob for his labors by
giving him the spotted and speckled livestock of Laban’s flocks. Through some
wizardry of animal husbandry not fully understood by this city-slicker-turned-
suburbanite, Jacob is apparently able to bring about an exponential increase in
the numbers of the spotted and speckled livestock. This is resented by Laban
and his sons.
Jacob feels that he has worn out his welcome. Upon consulting with Rachel and
Leah, he learns that they, too, feel estranged in Laban’s domain. They resolve
to leave for Canaan without saying goodbye. When Laban learns of this after
several days, he sets out in hot pursuit. When he catches up to them, a frank
exchange of complaints ensues. Laban also is aggrieved that some of his idols
are missing. Eventually Jacob and Laban undertake a peaceful covenant of
non-aggression, which they solemnize with a celebratory meal and the
dedication of a monument.
Issue #1: Perceiving the Divine Presence
At the opening of this week’s Torah portion, we see Jacob recognizing, to his
surprise, the presence of God in a seemingly God-forsaken corner of the world.
Near the end of our parashah we observe Laban, who has finally caught up to
Jacob, searching feverishly for his idols. (We are puzzled that Rachel has
surreptitiously taken along these souvenirs of her childhood home. We may
wonder whether she was motivated by an aesthetic admiration for the artistic
quality of these idols, or by nostalgia, or by a righteous desire to rid her father of
idols to worship. The Torah does not help us to solve this mystery, but it is clear
that the Torah is not praising this action of Rachel’s.) This attempt to secure the
physical possession of his idols appears to be the total extent of Laban’s
religious searching.
By contrast, Jacob is a religiously seeking person who is open to finding the

divine presence wherever it may be possible for human beings to identify it. To
learn more about Jacob’s relationship with God, see Genesis 28:10-22, which
includes a dream, a wide-awake perception, a dedication, and a prayerful vow.
In what ways does Jacob’s quest to find God differ from Laban? Jacob further
acknowledges God’s protection in Genesis 33:42.
Issue #2: Laban's Concern for his Daughters
In his commentary on the Torah, Rabbi Joseph H. Hertz (1872-1946, and

incidentally the first graduate of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America)
suggests that Laban’s concern for the welfare of his daughters was merely a
smokescreen. Commenting on Genesis 33:43, Hertz says:
Laban is unable to answer Jacob’s reproaches, and therefore repeats the claim
based on primitive usage, whereby the head of the household is the nominal
possessor of all that belonged to its members. He then pretends to be solicitous
for the welfare of his daughters and grandchildren.
Seven verses later, Hertz comments:
Laban still keeps up the pretext that the pact made between him and Jacob is
for the protection of his daughters; but he immediately proceeds … to safeguard
himself from any aggression on Jacob’s part in the future.
Has Hertz pre-judged Laban unfairly, or is there a basis within the Torah text for
these dismissive comments? One clue worthy of consideration is the statement
of Laban’s daughters, made privately to Jacob earlier in this chapter (verses 14-
16). What other clues can you identify within our parashah?
PARASHAT VAYISHLAH

Haftarah: Obadiah 1:1 – 21 (Etz Hayim, p. 222; Hertz p. 137)
On his way back to Canaan, Jacob prepares to see his brother Esau. When
Jacob had departed 20 years earlier, Esau had wanted to kill him. Now Jacob
prepares to mollify his brother, and to defend his household if the need should
arise. Jacob follows a route that will bring his family directly toward Esau, lest
Esau feel that Jacob is purposely avoiding him. In order to achieve this, Jacob
brings his family across the ford of the Jabbok River at night – a rather
hazardous procedure. Having successfully crossed the river, and while still
anticipating the unavoidable meeting with Esau, Jacob is surprised by an
“angel” who wrestles with him.
On the next day, a surprisingly amicable reunion takes place with Esau.
Relieved, Jacob heads for the north of Israel, settling for a time in Shekhem. It
is there that Jacob’s daughter Dinah is raped by a young local man, and two of
her brothers exact revenge from the community, to Jacob’s great dismay.
Jacob then undertakes a pilgrimage to Beth El to express his gratitude to God

at the very spot where he had prayed for divine protection twenty years earlier,
when he had been fleeing from Esau. This is apparently an opportunity for a
religious rededication on the part of Jacob’s entire household.
As they are moving south from Beth El, Rachel dies in childbirth. Before her
passing, she is aware that a healthy baby boy (Benjamin) has been born.
Isaac dies at a ripe old age. He is buried by Esau and Jacob, who are
apparently coexisting amicably. Curiously, the Torah provides no information
about the passing of Rebecca.
God renames Jacob with the new name Israel.
The balance of the parashah occupies itself with the genealogy of Jacob’s
descendants and then with the genealogy of Esau’s descendants.
Issue #1: Anticipating a Confrontation with Esau
Jacob was greatly afraid and was distressed. (Genesis 32:8)
The apparent redundancy within this text caught the eye of Rabbi Judah bar Ilai,
who lived in second-century Palestine under Roman rule. Rabbi Judah looked
at each component separately (Midrash Genesis Rabbah 76):
“Was greatly afraid” – lest he be killed.
“Was distressed” – lest he kill.
What tactics did Jacob adopt to protect himself and his family from these twin
perils? Why was the second, “lest he kill,” significant?
Issue #2: Jacob in Wrong Place
Much has been written about Jacob wrestling with the “angel.” It has been
debated whether this is an account of an actual episode in the patriarch’s life or,
perhaps, an account of a significant dream of Jacob’s.
For the moment, let us back up a step or two to see how it came about that
Jacob was alone and physically vulnerable. The text of the Torah spells out
(Genesis 32:23-24) that after Jacob had brought all the members of his family
safely across the ford of Jabbok, he sent across all his possessions. Jacob was
then left alone.
It was at this point in the procedure that the conflict with the stranger took place,
resulting in the wrestling episode.
There is a puzzlement embedded in this text. If Jacob already had seen to the
transferring of all his possessions across the river, then what business could
possibly have brought him back across the river, away from his family,
especially at this time, when protecting his loved ones was clearly Jacob’s top
priority? A comment in the Talmud (Hullin 91a) suggests that Jacob
remembered some small vessels that had not been brought across, and he
returned to retrieve them.
It is suggested that Jacob focused his attention on “small vessels” rather than
on the big picture. Was Jacob motivated, perhaps, by nostalgia?
In our own lives, how do we attempt to strike a balance between careful

attention to small details on the one hand, and seeing the big picture on the
other hand?
PARASHAT VAYESHEV - BIRKAT HAHODESH -
FIRST DAY HANUKKAH - SECOND HANUKKAH
CANDLE

Maftir: Numbers 7:1-7:17 (Etz Hayim, p. 805; Hertz p. 596)
Haftarah: Zehariah 2:14-4:7 (Etz Hayim, p. 1270; Hertz p. 987)
The story line of our Torah portion is quite familiar, thanks in part to the lively
Broadway musical Joseph and the Amazing Technical Dreamcoat. Joseph, the
favored son, inspires the envy of his brothers. Jacob, his father, had surely had
good intentions when he gave Joseph a coat of many colors, but those good
intentions clearly backfired. To make matters worse, Joseph naively shared with
his brothers dreams that indicated that he seemed destined to rule over them.
Eventually the brothers sought to rid themselves of this nuisance. They almost
killed Joseph, but cooler heads prevailed. Joseph was sold into slavery and
transported to Egypt.
Since we in North America live in a world that is far removed from slavery, it is
natural for us to assume that all slaves were equally at the bottom rung of
society. Upon reflection, though, we should understand that there were varying
levels of status for slaves, based on their perceived trustworthiness and
diligence, as well as their talents, which might be profitable or convenient to
their masters. To make a long story short, Joseph rose within the hierarchy of
slaves, until one day he was unexpectedly framed by the wife of his master
Potiphar and was abruptly imprisoned.
Even within the jail Joseph’s talents asserted themselves, and he eventually
was given an administrative position inside the prison.
When two of the Pharaoh’s leading servants, who also had been jailed,
experienced disturbing dreams, Joseph was able to interpret these dreams to
their satisfaction. Yet at the conclusion of the parashah, Joseph is still in prison.
He hopes that Pharaoh’s newly freed cupbearer will put in a good word for him,
but there are no guarantees.
Issue #1: Ancient and Modern Interpretation of Dreams
Sigmund Freud’s theory, which strongly influences the understanding of dreams

within our present-day culture, suggests that dreams reflect what is going on
within the mind of the dreamer. Using this theory, which is just over a century
old, dreams would be a potentially useful tool for learning about the dreamer
and his inner turmoil.
The prevalent theory of dreams in the biblical world, which is clearly reflected in
our Torah portion, is that dreams are a means through which the divine will is
revealed to human beings. Thus Joseph is not being boastful or brash when he
says to the cupbearer and to the baker, both of whom were distraught because
of their inability to understand the meaning of their dreams, “Surely
interpretations belong to God. Tell me” (Genesis 40:8) – and perhaps God will
reveal to me the meaning of your dreams. (A similar perspective is expressed in
Genesis 41:16.) In their world, dreams were viewed as a tool for understanding
what plans God had for the future of the dreamer or even of the nation.
What were the dreams of Pharaoh’s cupbearer? What were his baker’s
dreams?
What clues did Joseph find within these dreams to indicate what lay in store for
these executive servants?
Issue #2: In Search of a Ticket out of Jail
Joseph understood that the baker would be executed shortly, and that the
cupbearer would be freed. Lacking other means to facilitate his quest for
freedom, he asked the cupbearer, who had just been the beneficiary of
Joseph’s unusual insight, to plead his case when he was released, and so to
assist in ending Joseph’s imprisonment. In the closing verse of our parashah we
are told: “Yet the chief cupbearer did not remember Joseph; he forgot him.”
Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra (1089-1164), commenting on this apparently

repetitious verse, suggests that the cupbearer not only did not mention Joseph
to Pharaoh, he also did not think of him. In other words, not only did he not
recall Joseph to others; he actively suppressed the memory of Joseph in his
own thinking.
There were at least two strong reasons why the cupbearer might behave this
way. Can you articulate these reasons? (Hint: One reason has to do with putting
memories of an unpleasant experience behind him, while the other relates to
safeguarding his status within Pharaoh’s court.) It would take strong pressure to
force the cupbearer-in-chief to recall Joseph to others. Fortunately, just such a
situation arises in next week’s parashah.
A Note on the Maftir
The special reading for Hanukkah is relegated to the second Torah scroll, a
less-than-featured position. In our highlight-conscious society, we are
conditioned to expect that anything that is special or out-of-the-ordinary should
have a featured status. Jewish tradition teaches otherwise. It is a well-
established principle in Jewish law that a regular, recurrent activity takes
precedence over a sporadic or one-time activity. We are encouraged to
maintain our ongoing pursuits, and to add our periodic special events to them.
Colorful activities are a wonderful supplement to our everyday commitments but
not a replacement for them.
PARASHAT MIKETZ
December 23, 2006 – 2 Tevet 5767
Annual: Genesis Genesis 41:1-44:17 (Etz Hayim, p. 250; Hertz p. 155)

Maftir: Numbers 7:54 – 8:4 (Etz Hayim, p. 809; Hertz p. 599)
Haftarah: I Kings >7:40 – 50 (Etz Hayim, p. 1274; Hertz p. 990)
Joseph, the lowly Canaanite/Hebrew slave, has been languishing in an

Egyptian prison for two more years after he successfully interpreted the dreams
of Pharaoh’s baker and cupbearer. His incarceration might have continued
indefinitely, except that Pharaoh has a pair of troubling dreams. When no
interpretation from his usual advisors satisfies Pharaoh, the butler reluctantly
recounts the tale of his own imprisonment, culminating in a glowing
recommendation for Joseph as an interpreter of dreams. Joseph is immediately
summoned from prison, tidied up, and brought before Pharaoh.
Upon hearing the content of Pharaoh’s dreams, Joseph conveys an

interpretation that foretells seven years of plenty followed by seven years of
famine. But Joseph also goes beyond his mandate to interpret the dreams; he
recommends a plan of action to Pharaoh that would use the bumper crops of
the first seven years to cushion Egypt against the ravages of the famine that is
to follow. Pharaoh, impressed with Joseph’s insight and initiative, appoints him
as viceroy with broad powers to implement the plan.
The plan works successfully. As the famine eventually spreads to neighboring

countries, Jacob and his 11 remaining sons in Canaan run short of food. Jacob
deputizes 10 of the sons to go to Egypt to procure food for their extended family.
Benjamin alone is to remain with Jacob. The brothers gain an audience with the
Egyptian viceroy Zaphenath-paneah (who, unbeknownst to them, is actually
their brother Joseph). The viceroy accuses them of being spies and grills them
with questions, eliciting a mention of their brother Benjamin. Expressing
skepticism that Benjamin really exists, he stuns the brothers by imprisoning
Simeon.
Joseph sends the brothers back to Canaan with ample provisions. However, he
warns them that he will refuse to see them again unless they bring Benjamin
with them. There is a dual incentive for them to return to Egypt:
a. Although Joseph has given them all the food they could carry, they would
eventually need to return for more.
b. Simeon is still a prisoner, and the brothers should want to regain his
freedom.
When they return to Canaan, Jacob is pleased to have food for his household.
But he is displeased that Simeon is not free, and he is still reluctant to consider
letting Benjamin out of his sight. After all, Jacob had lost his beloved wife
Rachel, as well as her older son, Joseph. Only Rachel’s younger son, Benjamin,
remains. Reuben fails to change Jacob’s mind. Eventually, as food supplies
begin to run low, Judah gets Jacob to relent.
The brothers meet with Joseph in Egypt. Joseph is pleased to see Benjamin;
Simeon is set free. Joseph sees to it that the brothers are supplied with plenty
of food, but then he directs his servants to frame Benjamin for theft. The
brothers are intercepted on their way back to Canaan and Benjamin is
imprisoned.
Issue #1: Jacob's Protectiveness of Benjamin
Why does Jacob refuse Reuben’s request (42:37) but gives in to Judah’s plea
(43:8-10) to let Benjamin travel to Egypt?
This is a multilayered question. The primary answer has to do with the content
of Judah’s message compared to Reuben’s. You may wish to examine the
substance and tone of their words.
A secondary answer has more to do with empathy and shared experience.

(Hint: Judah has lost two adult sons. The details, related in Chapter 38, verses
7 and 10, are not expressly related to our story. But our knowledge of
information from previous chapters legitimately may be assumed by the Bible.)
Why is Jacob predisposed to listen to Judah about the dangers that may
threaten an adult son?
Issue #2: Joseph's Manipulation of his Brothers
It is no exaggeration to say that as viceroy, Joseph repeatedly sought to

manipulate his brothers. Quite conceivably, we may not agree with his tactics.
And we also may suspect that the desire for revenge may have played a role.
Setting aside our reservations about his tactics and about revenge for a
moment, we should address the following questions:
a. What information and memories did Joseph hope to elicit from his
brothers?
b. What thoughts/reflections/realizations did he seek to lead them toward?
c. What did he hope that they would express?
Looking ahead within the biblical narrative, did Joseph achieve these goals?
A Note about the Maftir
People often wonder why the Torah portion designated for the eighth day of
Hanukkah is longer than average. Keep in mind that all the Hanukkah readings
are borrowed from the story of the dedication of the mishkan – the portable
sanctuary – because of the parallel to Hanukkah’s theme of rededication. When
the mishkan was dedicated, representatives of 12 tribes brought offerings on
successive days. For the first seven days of Hanukkah, we can quote from the
first seven days of the dedication ceremony, one offering per day. But, because
Hanukkah is only eight days long, we have five tribes’ offerings to deal with on
our eighth day, plus a summary of the 12 original days’ offerings. It should be
noted that this longer-than-average maftir happens to be paired with a shorter-
than-average haftara.
PARASHAT VAYIGASH
December 30, 2006 – 9 Tevet 5767

Haftarah: Ezekiel 37:15 – 28 (Etz Hayim, p. 291; Hertz p. 178)
Benjamin has been framed, and he appears destined to be a slave to the

viceroy of Egypt. Judah knows that such a development will be utterly
devastating to Jacob, his father, so he approaches the viceroy and retells the
tale of Jacob’s personal losses and of his own personal guarantee to Jacob of
Benjamin’s safety. The viceroy – Joseph – is deeply moved by Judah’s words,
and he blurts out that he is indeed their brother Joseph.
Joseph takes the sting out of this surprise by explaining that he views his own
presence in Egypt as part of a divine plan to preserve life during the famine. He
then urges the brothers to bring Jacob to Egypt without delay. Joseph plans to
take care of the whole extended family.
Upon hearing that Joseph is alive and in control of affairs in Egypt, Jacob’s
heart skips a beat. He is eager to see Joseph again, although he is somewhat
reluctant to leave Canaan. God reassures him that traveling to Egypt is the right
course of action.
Once they get settled in Egypt, Joseph arranges to introduce some of his
brothers, as well as his father, to the Pharaoh in a favorable context.
Meanwhile Joseph, as Pharaoh’s right-hand man, arranges to buy vast

farmlands in Egypt on behalf of the monarchy, in exchange for food and seed.
Many Egyptian farmers become sharecroppers as a result.
Meanwhile, the Israelites seem to be off to a good start in Egypt.
Issue #1: Hesitation About Leaving the Promised Land
In Israel, Beersheva has always been the gateway to the south. As Chapter 46
opens, Jacob has begun his journey to Egypt by traveling to Beersheva. He
pauses, perhaps reluctant to leave the Promised Land again. His father, Isaac,
had never left it. God reassures Jacob:
Fear not to go down to Egypt, for I will make you there a great nation. I Myself
will go down with you to Egypt, and I Myself will also bring you back; and
Joseph’s hand shall close your eyes [when you die].
Where else had Jacob lived, besides the land of Canaan? Had life been
pleasant for him outside the Promised Land?
In what ways might God’s words have been comforting or encouraging to
Jacob?
Issue #2: Judah's New Task
[Jacob] had sent Judah ahead of him to Joseph, to point the way before him to
Goshen. (Genesis 46:28)
This verse is puzzling for two reasons. First of all, it seems to arise in a vacuum.
The story line was interrupted in Genesis 46:8 by Jacob’s genealogy; the text
lists the 70 members of his family. Sending Judah to Joseph must be
understood as the resumption of the narrative.
Secondly, we wonder why Judah – or for that matter anyone else – might have
to point the way to Goshen. After all, we know that all of Joseph’s brothers
already have made the trip successfully. In fact, nine of the brothers have done
it twice. (Benjamin and Simon have each completed one round trip.) There
seems to be little need for a navigator.
Two views of Judah’s task are worthy of mention. The first is that Judah was the
family’s advance man, coordinating logistical arrangements to allow them all to
settle smoothly in the assigned district of Goshen. The second view, drawn from
the midrash, is concerned with preparations for their spiritual life:
Rabbi Nehemiah said: [“to point the way” means] to establish a house of study,
which will teach Torah there, so that the tribes shall read the Torah therein.
(B’reisheit Rabbah 95:3)
Note: The Hebrew word that has been translated “to point the way” is l’horot,
which comes from the same root as moreh (teacher), horim (parents), and
Torah. In modern Hebrew, a tour guide is called a moreh-derekh.
We may wonder about the content of the “Torah” that was available to the tribes
to study then. But this comment arguably tells us more about the times and
perceptions of Rabbi Nehemiah than it does about the plain meaning of this
particular verse. Rabbi Nehemiah, who lived in the second century C.E., was
one of the few students of Rabbi Akiva to survive the Hadrianic persecutions.
He devoted his life to reestablishing venues for the study of Judaism and to
restoring the vitality of Jewish life in Israel under radically changed
circumstances.
We can well imagine the heartfelt commitment that Rabbi Nehemiah was
expressing to the Jews of his time through that midrashic comment. In what
ways might this comment speak to us, given that we live free of persecution?
What would Rabbi Nehemiah tell us today about communal and institutional
priorities?
PARASHAT VAYEHI - HAZAK SHABBAT
January 6, 2007 – 16 Tevet 5767

Haftarah: I Kings 2:1 – 12 (Etz Hayim, p. 313; Hertz p. 191)
In his final days, Jacob extracts an oath from Joseph to bury him in his
ancestral burial place in Canaan.
When Joseph brings his two sons to visit their ailing grandfather, Jacob blesses
them both, although not in the order that Joseph expects.
Jacob addresses personalized parting comments to each of his sons,

recapitulating some of the salient points of their lives and anticipating what the
future may hold for them and their descendants.
After Joseph and his brothers bury Jacob in Canaan, Joseph builds upon his
earlier remarks (Genesis 45:5-8) to the effect that sending him involuntarily to
Egypt had been part of a greater divine plan to save many lives. He has
rationalized that his ascendancy to a position of leadership in Egypt had
facilitated the survival for Jacob and all his extended family in a time of famine.
Before his death, Joseph obtains a commitment from his kin to eventually
rebury him in Canaan when they or their descendants eventually leave Egypt.
Issue #1: Residence in Egypt vs. Destiny in the Promised Land
After Jacob’s death, his sons dutifully escort his body to Canaan and bury him
in the family burial space. There is no surprise here; in Genesis 47:29-31
Joseph had sworn to his father that he would do exactly that. In fact, Joseph
referred to that very oath as he requested permission to journey to Canaan to
attend to Jacob’s burial from Pharaoh (Genesis 50:4-6).
It is also not surprising that Joseph returned to Egypt after burying his father.
After all, he had lived in Egypt virtually all his adult life. His wife was certainly of
Egyptian origin, and his sons had been born and raised in Egypt. Moreover, in
case Joseph might succumb to a hankering for the Old Country, we are told that
he was accompanied by a significant Egyptian entourage, which would be an
obstacle to bailing out of his expected return to continue working for Pharaoh
(Genesis 50:7-9).
But what are we to make of Joseph’s brothers’ voluntary return to Egypt? Hadn’t
they just come to Egypt temporarily to wait out the famine that had afflicted
Canaan? Jacob had lived in Egypt for 17 years, as specified in Genesis 47:28,
and so had his sons. We can understand that moving Jacob back to Canaan
during his final years probably was not practical. But why would Joseph’s
brothers not plan to remain in Canaan after journeying there to bury their
father?
The text of the Torah does not even hint at this question. If we are to explore
this question, we must use our own intuition and life experience.
Could we say that there is a parallel between this issue and the oft-asked
question about why Jews continue to live in North America, when no one is
actively preventing them from moving to Israel? Is the issue different for the
brothers who had just recently left Canaan and Joseph who had lived so long
away?
Issue #2: The Pardoning of Joseph's Brothers
After Jacob’s burial, in Genesis 50:15-17 Joseph’s brothers assert that during
his lifetime Jacob had directed that Joseph pardon his brothers for having sold
him into slavery. However, unlike the oath cited above, which Joseph quoted to
Pharaoh, this is a directive that we are now learning of for the first time. If no
such utterance is recorded, we are tempted to wonder whether the brothers are
faithfully transmitting Jacob’s words or simply fabricating them.
If we suspect a fabrication on the part of the brothers, we are in good company.

Rashi (1040-1105) cites a Talmudic discussion (Yevamot 65b) of this issue
suggesting that the brothers invented Jacob’s directive. His logic is echoed in
the Etz Hayim commentary on the Torah:
We have no reason to believe that Jacob ever learned the truth about how
Joseph came to Egypt. If he had, would he not have rebuked them for what they
did, as he rebuked Reuben, Simeon, and Levi?
Obviously, if Jacob did not know that Joseph’s brothers had sold him into
slavery, he would have had no reason to issue a directive to Joseph to forgive
his brothers.
What justification, if any, can be given for the brothers’ fabrication of their
father’s words?
PARASHAT SHEMOT - BIRKAT HAHODESH
January 13, 2007 – 23 Tevet 5767
Annual: Exodus 1:1-6:1 (Etz Hayim, p. 317; Hertz p. 206)

Triennial Cycle: Exodus 4:18-6:1 (Etz Hayim, p. 335; Hertz p. 220)
Haftarah: Isaiah 27:6 – 28:13; 29:22-23 (Etz Hayim, p. 343, 347; Hertz p. 225,
228)
As we begin Sefer Shemot, the second book of the Torah, we take a moment to
recall a verse from Beresheit. Joseph and his brothers have died; but before
Joseph’s death he exhorts his brothers, saying:
God will surely take notice of you and bring you up from this land to the land
that He promised on oath to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. (Genesis 50:24)
The Israelites still living in Egypt, now more numerous than before, encounter a
changed reality – a new Pharaoh clearly feels threatened by their burgeoning
population in the midst of Egypt. To complicate matters, the Israelites no longer
have Joseph as viceroy, able to put in a good word for them with the ruler. The
new Pharaoh attempts to initiate measures to control the demographic
explosion of the Israelites.
In the midst of this turbulent period, Moses is born. Through a fortuitous series
of events, he comes to be adopted by the Pharaoh’s daughter. In early
adulthood, apparently aware of his Israelite ancestry, he exhibits compassion
for an oppressed Israelite. Very soon he finds himself fleeing Egypt and settling
in Midian, where he meets his wife-to-be.
Working as a shepherd, Moses encounters a vision of God in a burning bush.

God informs Moses that He has observed the suffering of the Israelites at the
hands of the Egyptians, and that He is ready to redeem them from their
enslavement. Echoing the above-cited verse (and expanding upon its theme),
God says to Moses:
Go and assemble the elders of Israel and say to them: the Lord, the God of your
fathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, has appeared to me and said, “I
have taken notice of you and what is being done to you in Egypt, and I have
declared: I will take you out of the misery of Egypt to the land of the Canaanites,
the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites, to a land
flowing with milk and honey.” (Exodus 3:16-17)
God arms Moses with signs and wonders, which will be discussed below.
Issue #1: Convincing Moses
The encounter with God at the burning bush should have been enough to
convince Moses of the importance of his mission. However, Moses expresses
concern over the people’s possible reaction to his unusual message. We are
not entirely certain whether Moses really meant that the people would have
doubts, or whether this was his indirect way of telling God that Moses himself
still had doubts.
In the opening section of Chapter 4 (verses 1-9), God provides Moses with
some signs that would be hard to ignore. Commenting on this section, W.
Gunther Plaut, a Reform rabbi who was born in 1912, offers the following
analysis:
The signs, then, were of secondary importance in convincing Israel and of no

significance in convincing Pharaoh. Perhaps the primary impact was on Moses
himself. It is he who in a moment of great anxiety and upheaval needs some
reassurance. The signs help him to gain confidence and to overcome his latest
objection. They are a temporary device, of psychological import for him, and of
ceremonial meaning to the people. In neither case are they of the essence.
(The Torah: A Modern Commentary, page 404)
Do you agree with Plaut’s analysis? Is Moses indeed strengthened by the

repertoire of signs that God supplies for him? Do the signs appear to allay his
concerns? If not, how do you suppose he felt when his rod turned into a snake,
or when his hand became encrusted? Might there have been some other
purpose to these signs, besides convincing Moses?
Issue #2: Convincing the Israelites
At the close of Chapter 4, we read the following:
Then Moses and Aaron went and assembled all the elders of the Israelites.
Aaron repeated all the words that the Lord had spoken to Moses, and he
performed the signs in the sight of the people. The people were convinced; they
heard that the Lord had taken note of the Israelites and that He had seen their
plight, and they bowed low in homage. (Exodus 4:29-31)
Moses’ apprehensions seem to have been exaggerated. The people, evidently

inspired by his mission, embrace it wholeheartedly. What convinced the
Israelites to support Moses and Aaron in their endeavor?
Later on, we see that the Israelites wavered in their support of Moses’ campaign.
Why do you suppose that they could be shaken so easily from supporting
Moses and Aaron? Could it be that the easily convinced are also the easily
unconvinced?
In what ways can Moses’ experience speak to us in our lives? When we

approach a new task, what tricks do we need to increase our comfort level? As
we plan for presentations, how do we prepare ourselves to help make our case
to our audience? Are there ways (leaving aside God’s active presence in the
situation) that parallel Moses’ arguments to God?
PARASHAT VAERA - ROSH HODESH
January 20, 2007 – 1 Shevat 5767
Annual: Ex. 6:2 – 9:35 (Etz Hayim, p. 351; Hertz p. 232)

Triennial Cycle: Ex. 8:16-9:35 (Etz Hayim, p. 362; Hertz p. 240)
Haftarah: Isaiah 66:1 – 24, :66:23 (Etz Hayim, p. 1220 Hertz p. 944)
God renews the promise of redemption to Moses and the Israelites.
The first seven of the ten plagues occur in this parashah. Pharaoh is stubborn,
refusing to accede to Moses’ requests. (He seems to regard the plagues as
magic, magic, moreover, that his own magicians sometimes can match.) Under
the duress of a plague, he does appear to go along with Moses and claims to
be ready to free the people, but after the crisis passes he changes his mind.
Issue #1: Who's in Charge: Pharaoh, Moses, or God?
From time to time, we all have seen situations in which a toddler’s petulant
behavior may dictate the behavior of the adults in the room. Through
stubbornness or impulsiveness, the child finds a way to control the actions of
those who ought to be in charge. Sometimes, however, parents may have made
a conscious decision to avoid bickering with the child, and they allow the child to
think that he/she can decide what happens next, while in fact they have
carefully limited the range of possible outcomes.
In the unfolding drama of this week’s parashah, Pharaoh behaves in a petulant,

almost infantile, manner. While we can understand that a monarch may have a
need to demonstrate control over his surroundings – especially a monarch who
seeks to project an aura of divinity – we sense that Pharaoh has gone
overboard. Meanwhile, Moses is assisting God in demonstrating that Pharaoh is
a mere mortal, powerless to counteract divinely ordained plagues. Time and
again, Pharaoh appears to surrender under pressure. However, once the crisis
of the moment has passed, Pharaoh reasserts his kingly prerogatives.
Pharaoh seems to be accustomed to using people to extract from them the

results that serve his purposes. In Pharaoh’s mind, Moses is a useful instrument
for communicating with the God of the Israelites, particularly for bringing an end
to the plague of the moment. This attitude may reflect the close intertwining of
magic and religion in ancient Egypt. Moses surely is aware that this
pigeonholing is not a compliment to Moses, and certainly not to God.
It is no surprise that Moses, who does not have the power to dictate every detail
of Pharaoh’s behavior, sometimes humors Pharaoh by allowing him the illusion
of control. At the end of the second plague, we read the following dialogue:
Then Pharaoh summoned Moses and Aaron and said, “Plead with the Lord to
remove the frogs from me and from my people, and I will let the [Israelite]
people go to sacrifice to the Lord.” And Moses said to Pharaoh, “You may have
this triumph over me: for what time shall I plead in behalf of you and your
courtiers and your people, that the frogs be cut off from you and your houses, to
remain only in the Nile?” “For tomorrow,” he replied. And [Moses] said, as you
say – that you may know that there is none like the Lord our God; the frogs shall
retreat from you and your courtiers and your people; they shall remain only in
the Nile.” But when Pharaoh saw that there was relief, he became stubborn and
would not heed them, as the Lord had spoken. (Exodus 8:4-12)
In connection with which other plagues did Pharaoh make promises and then
change his mind?
This assumes that the decisions Pharaoh made were totally under his control.
There is a tradition in Midrash Rabbah that suggests that Pharaoh didn’t have
the choice to choose:
When God perceived that he did not relent after the first five plagues, He
decided that even if Pharaoh now wished to repent, He would harden his heart
in order to exact the whole punishment from him. As the Lord had spoken to
Moses – for so it is written: “And I will harden Pharaoh's heart.”
How does that rabbinic understanding influence the way we might perceive the
drama taking place between Moses and Pharaoh? If Pharaoh did not have the
ability to keep his promises, could they really be promises? What of today’s
politicians, who make what seem to be promises knowing that they cannot keep
them?
Issue #2: Punishment
A just God wishes to avoid collective punishment of all the people of Egypt. This
is not easily accomplished, because the behavior of their intransigent monarch
must be changed. The seventh plague, hail, was designed in such a way that
free Egyptians who heeded God’s warnings were able to escape harm.
Those among Pharaoh’s courtiers who feared the Lord’s word brought their
slaves and livestock indoors to safety; but those who paid no regard to the word
of the Lord left their slaves and livestock in the open. (Exodus 9:20-21)
The rabbis, in Midrash Rabbah, wondered why God would “punish” the land of
Egypt: Why did He bring hail upon them? Because they had made the Israelites
planters of their vineyards, gardens, orchards, and trees; on this account did He
bring upon them hail which destroyed all these plantations.
Why would that be an important question to address? Is there a lesson we can

learn when the rabbis make the point that even the land was to be punished for
mistreating the Israelites?
Yet, ultimately it was not just the land, but some of the Egyptian people as well
who suffered from the plague. Midrash Rabbah notes:
“Upon men and upon beast.” When God saw that they heeded not His warning:
“bring in the cattle,” He said, “They deserve that the hail should descend upon
all things.”
Can we understand this issue of punishment in the context of the area of choice
noted above? If there were Egyptians who chose to follow God’s directive, were
they treated differently than their neighbors who did not? Could this have been
away of lessening the impact on the Egyptians for Pharaoh’s decisions?
Many of the plagues distinguished in their impact between the Israelites and the
Egyptian population. Note the differential impact of the plagues, as narrated in
the following passages: Exodus 8:18-20, Exodus 9:6, and Exodus 10:23.
For each of those plagues, are there ways of understanding why the difference
in impact between the Egyptians and the Israelites?
PARASHAT BO
January 27, 2007 – 8 Shevat 5767

Triennial Cycle: Ex. 12:29 – 13:16 (Etz Hayim, p. 387; Hertz p. 258)
Haftarah: Jeremiah 46:13 – 28 (Etz Hayim, p. 395; Hertz p. 263)
As the parashah begins the plagues continue, growing in intensity. Pharaoh

remains intransigent in the face of locusts, and then of darkness. Moses warns
him about the impending plague of the first-born.
Through Moses, God commands the Israelites to sacrifice lambs in Egypt, a

practice that ran against the grain of Egyptian society and religion. Moses also
directs the Israelites to prepare to leave Egypt promptly on what is likely to be
short notice. In fact, they depart so hastily that their bread dough has no time to
rise.
The Israelites are told to perpetuate the memory of their departure from Egypt
by retelling the story to their children throughout the generations.
Issue #1: Recurrent Consciousness of the Exodus from Egypt
The exodus from Egypt holds an important place in the consciousness of the
Jewish people. Many commandments carry the rationale that the mitzvah is to
be followed because it serves as “zeikher liytziat Mitzrayim” – because it “recalls
the Exodus from Egypt.” A partial list of such practices would include:
• The Sabbath -- slaves could not observe it -- Deuteronomy 5:15

• Passover
1. the seder: positive commandment to retell the story to the next
generation
2. the commandment to refrain from eating leavened foods
• Shavuot
1. first of the Ten Commandments
2. rejoicing on festivals, along with those less fortunate
(Deuteronomy 16:12)
• Sukkot - Commandment to dwell in a sukkah (Leviticus 23:42-43)
• Tefillin (so-called phylacteries)
• Tzitzit (fringes on a tallit)
• Daily liturgy
1. The bracha following the Sh’ma
2. The second bracha of Birkat Ha-Mazon (grace after meals)
• Commandment to act with compassion toward the stranger in our midst
• Commandment to leave surplus of the harvest for the stranger, the
orphan, and the widow (Deuteronomy 24:19-22)
• Commandment to release Hebrew slaves in the seventh year, with gifts
(Deuteronomy 15:15)
Reviewing this list, we can note that the link between some of them and the
Israelites’ departure from Egypt is obvious. With others, the connection is less
direct, if not completely obscure. Review the list and take some time to identify
what ties each mitzvah to the Exodus. For the items for which the connection is
less than obvious, what are the ways by which the connection could be
understood?
Consider as well, in what way does the connection to the exodus enrich the
reasoning for keeping the mitzvah? Among those mitzvot, are there some for
which such a tie to the exodus does not add to the meaning of observance?
Issue #2: Tefillin: A Daily Reminder of Our History as Slaves
As symbols, tefillin are not widely understood. The Greeks called them
“phylacteries” – amulets – because they perceived them to be charms designed
to protect Jews’ spiritual cleanliness. In modern times, many Jews seem to feel
uneasy about tefillin because their symbolic value does not translate smoothly
into American culture. Moreover, tefillin are not worn on Shabbat or on festival
days, which is when the largest number of Jews gather for prayer. Many Jews
do not often see tefillin in use.
Inside the tefillin’s small black leather box, the one which is worn on the arm,
there is a piece of parchment with four Torah passages written on it. The four
passages are:
• Exodus 13:1-10
• Exodus 13:11-16
• Deuteronomy 6:4-9
• Deuteronomy 11:13-21
As you can see, this morning’s parashah is the only one that contains more
than one of these tefillin passages.
It is not easy to pinpoint why Jews are commanded to wear tefillin. However, if
someone had set out to invent a physical reminder of slavery, it is hard to
imagine a more effective one than tefillin. A slave’s strength and the work of his
hands belong to his master. (The leather straps of the tefillin are wrapped
around the arm and the hand.) The products of the slave’s creativity and
thought likewise are the property of his master. (Tefillin also are placed on the
head.) We who have been freed from slavery accept the opportunity to envision
ourselves as former slaves every day, and to remind ourselves that our freedom
must have a higher purpose.
If Jews wear tefillin to remind ourselves that God freed us from slavery in Egypt,
it would be nice to know that God, too, views this relationship as a special one.
In an imaginative passage in the Talmud, it is suggested that God has tefillin of
His own. Since God was neither a slave in Egypt nor the descendant of a slave,
the content of His “personal” tefillin would be different from the content of ours.
According to this passage in Brachot 6a, the text inside God’s tefillin reads:
“And who is like Your people Israel, unique throughout the world?” (This
passage, borrowed from II Samuel 7:23, is recited weekly in our liturgy for
Shabbat afternoons.)
When the tefillin are wound around the fingers, the following verses are said:
And I will espouse you forever:

I will espouse you with righteousness and justice,
And with goodness and mercy,
And I will espouse you with faithfulness;
Then you shall be devoted to the Lord.
(Hosea 2:21-22)
Is there a reason why the rabbis might have chosen a verse with the word
“espousal” for the act of winding the tefillin on your fingers? Is there a
relationship between those words and the idea of tefillin as a sign of
commitment to God when we take the few moments each weekday to bind
God’s word to us?
For an exploration of the early history of tefillin, see the notable essay on “T’fillin
and M’zuzot” by Jeffrey H. Tigay in Etz Hayim, pages 1464-1467. This essay
may also be found in the smaller volume Etz Hayim: Study Companion.
PARASHAT BESHALLAH - TU B’SHEVAT -
SHABBAT SHIRAH
February 3, 2007 – 15 Shevat 5767

Triennial Cycle: Ex. 14:26 – 17:16 (Etz Hayim, p. 405; Hertz p. 269)
Haftarah: Judges 4:4 – 5:31 (Etz Hayim, p. 424; Hertz p. 281)
Following the tenth plague, the Israelites left Egypt promptly. It did not take long
for Pharaoh to change his mind about allowing them to leave and to send his
army, complete with chariots, in hot pursuit of the former slaves. The army
threatened to overtake the Israelites at the Reed Sea (known to some as the
Red Sea. Scholars disagree as to the exact location of this body of water). The
miraculous crossing of the parted sea by the Israelites is a miracle about which
we take note in our prayer services every day, as we quote from it. We say “mi-
komokhah,” at both Shaharit and Arvit services. Chapter 15 of Exodus, which
we read this morning, contains a celebration of the crossing of the sea in lyric
song.
Not long after they crossed the sea, the Israelites complained to Moses about
their lack of food, and then of their lack of fresh water. Both these problems
were resolved, although not without friction and testing.
The Israelite camp is attacked by the warriors of Amalek. Under Moses’

leadership, the attack is successfully repelled. God directs Moses to record this
event.
Issue #1: Trapped by the Egyptian Army
As the Israelites were being chased by Pharaoh’s army, their only escape route
was blocked by the Sea of Reeds. Limited options were available. Some of the
recently freed slaves chose to express themselves through protest:
Was it for lack of graves in Egypt that you brought us to die in the wilderness?
What have you done to us, taking us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we
told you in Egypt, saying: Let us be, and we will serve the Egyptians, for it is
better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness! (Exodus
14:11-12)
Moses preferred to pray; but God said to him in response:
Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward! (Exodus 14:15)
Clearly this was a time for definitive action. Although the text of the Torah does
not specify exactly who seized the initiative, a midrash related in the Talmud,
aptly enough in the name of Rabbi Judah, seeks to fill in this gap.
This tribe said: “I will not descend first into the sea,” and that tribe said: “I will
not descend first into the sea.” Nahshon ben Aminadav (of the tribe of Judah)
sprang forward and descended into the sea. (Sotah 37a)
Nahson’s leadership apparently was rewarded later, when he was selected to

be the first of the tribal representatives to bring an offering at the ceremony of
commemoration of the mishkan – the portable sanctuary – in the desert
(Numbers 7:12).
When is reliance on quick action mandated? When is a slower approach a

better one? Is it possible to devise guidelines as to when a problem needs to be
studied and contemplated, and when definitive action should be undertaken?
Can one create guidelines which are universally applicable? Or, could it be this
is an example of what must be situationally decided?
Issue #2: Manna and Sabbath Observance
Chapter 16 is devoted to the sustenance of the Israelites, both physically and

spiritually. First we read the complaint of the people that they lack the ready
availability of foods that they had in Egypt. God responds by telling Moses:
I will rain down bread for you from the sky, and the people shall go out and
gather each day that day’s portion – that I may thus test them, to see whether
they will follow My instructions or not. But on the sixth day, when they prepare
what they have brought in, it shall prove to be double the amount they gather
each day. (Exodus 16:4-5)
Later, there is more instruction about the observance of the Shabbat, still using
the manna as a context for teaching. On a Friday, the people were told:
Tomorrow is a day of rest, a holy Sabbath of the Lord. Bake what you would
bake and cook what you would cook; and all that is left put aside to be kept until
morning.
To this day, many Jews place two loaves of challah on the Shabbat table to
honor the Sabbath and to recall the gift of manna in the desert. This practice of
placing a double portion on the table is referred to as lechem mishneh, a phrase
borrowed directly from verse 22 of this chapter.
It is many people’s custom to have two loaves of challah not only on Friday
evening, but for Shabbat lunch as well. The Shulkhan Arukh, a basic code of
law from the medieval period, mandates:
“The ‘great kiddush’ is said with two loaves, just as in the evening.” (Laws of
Shabbat, Oreh Hayim 289)
Why has the custom of having two loaves at each meal, not just on Friday night,
remain strong? Should we spend some time each week explaining this custom?
Are there other such customs for Shabbat and Holy Days that might benefit
from regular review and discussion?
As you reread Chapter 16, what other incidents about manna do you find?
Notice the guidelines given to the people about how to collect and eat the
manna. How did those who sought to test the limits learn that these rules were
more than mere suggestions?
PARASHAT YITRO

Triennial: Ex. 19:1 – 20:23 (Etz Hayim, p. 436; Hertz p. 290)
Haftarah: Isaiah 6:1 – 7:6:9:5-6 (Etz Hayim, p. 452; Hertz p. 302)
Parashat Yitro features two sources of wisdom. The first source is Jethro – in
Hebrew, Yitro – Moses’ father-in-law. The second source, showcased within our
parashah, is the Almighty, giving the Ten Commandments at Mount Sinai.
Not long after the exodus from Egypt, Yitro visits Moses, bringing along Moses’
wife, Tziporah, and their two sons, who apparently had been staying with Yitro
during the trying times of the plagues. Yitro observes Moses at work on a typical
day. He notes that Moses spends his entire day on judicial and political matters,
without delegating any of these tasks. Yitro tells his son-in-law that he will surely
wear himself out by continuing in this manner, and that obviously will be harmful
to Moses and ultimately not helpful to the Israelites. He makes specific
recommendations about how Moses can delegate certain tasks, while still
retaining the authority to do that which he is uniquely qualified to do. Moses
adopts these recommendations.
At the start of Sivan, the third month since the exodus from Egypt, the Israelites
entered the wilderness of Sinai. Now, in their seventh week since gaining
freedom, they have yet to be imbued with a divinely ordained sense of purpose.
God challenges the Israelites to become “a kingdom of priests and a holy
nation.” Moses directs the elders to prepare the people, over a period of three
days, to receive the word of God. When the appointed day arrives, God appears
amidst thunder and lightning, and Moses is called upon to ascend Mount Sinai.
God enunciates the Ten Commandments. The people, overwhelmed by this

divine revelation, beseech Moses to mediate between them and God. The
closing verses of our parashah impart some specifications for the altar that is to
be constructed for divine worship.
Issue #1: The Centrality of the Ten Commandments
Most Jews recognize that the Ten Commandments have constituted one of the
essential foundations of Judaism throughout the generations. Even in the days
of the Temple in Jerusalem, when Judaism was long on sacrifices and short on
liturgy, the Ten Commandments were recited daily by the kohanim in the
Temple.
The superintendent said to them [the kohanim], pronounce one blessing [one of
the blessings before the Shema] and they did so: they then recited the Ten
Commandments, and the first, second and third sections of the Shema…
(Mishnah: Tamid 5:1)
That section likely sounds familiar; after the destruction of the Temple, the
sparse liturgy of the Temple became the core around which our subsequent
liturgy was built.
Yet it did not take long before the Ten Commandments were removed from the
daily prayer service. It is even possible that this occurred while the Temple was
still functioning – in other words, it is possible that the Ten Commandments
could be recited only in the Temple, where ritual and its context were well-
defined, not in outside locations, where a different spin might be applied to them.
The Talmud provides a list of the prayers that made up the liturgy of the
morning service inside the Temple proper, as recited by the kohanim. As noted
in Berakhot 12a, they recited the Ten Commandments, the declaration that is
the Shema’s first paragraph, and the two other sections of the Shema that
follow it, which begin “And it shall come to pass if ye diligently hearken” and
“And the Lord said.” They continued with “True and firm,” the paragraph that
follows the Shema; the Avodah, or sacrificial liturgy; and the priestly benediction,
or birkat kohanim. The Talmud continues with this note:
Rab Judah said in the name of Samuel: Outside the Temple also people wanted
to do the same, but they were stopped on account of the insinuations of the
Minim [the sectarians].
Similarly it has been taught: R. Nathan says, They sought to do the same
outside the Temple, but it had long been abolished on account of the
insinuations of the Minim. Rabbah b. Bar Hanah had an idea of instituting this in
Sura, but R. Hisda said to him, It had long been abolished on account of the
insinuations of the Minim. Amemar had an idea of instituting it in Nehardea, but
R. Ashi said to him, It had long been abolished on account of the insinuations of
the Minim.”
This restriction on reciting the Ten Commandments was “due to the twisting of
the sectarians.” It would appear that the sectarians – early Christians who after
all were a group breaking away from mainstream Judaism – sought to portray
the Ten Commandments as essential principles, to the exclusion of hundreds of
other commandments.
Requests to revive the Ten Commandments as part of the daily liturgy

resurfaced periodically, even as late as the middle ages, from earnest Jews
loyal to tradition. A compromise response was that the Ten Commandments
could be read, especially privately, as an introduction or a postscript to the
service, but not as a central section of the service.
In those synagogues that follow a twentieth-century triennial cycle of Torah

readings, an effort has been made to have the Ten Commandments read as
part of Parashat Yitro more often than once every three years.
The Ten Commandments certainly are a central part of much legal discussion in
our day. From classroom to courtroom, these few verses, or perhaps the
parallel version in Deuteronomy, have been seen as representing the core of
the American Judeo-Christian traditions. Yet it is fair to say that within the
Jewish tradition, we do not give that kind of focus to the Ten Commandments.
Do you think that we should give even more prominence to the Ten
Commandments within our synagogues and/or homes? Bearing in mind the
historical reasons for our reluctance to showcase the Ten Commandments,
what might be some appropriate ways to call attention to the commitments
embodied within them?
With a great deal of secular society paying so much attention to the Ten
Commandments, what kind of focus should we put on the study of the Ten
Commandments? Is there a problem with the widespread display of biblical
texts that we, too, hold sacred?
Issue #2: What Were They Thinking
Ever since the days when large numbers of Jews lived in Babylonia, there has
been a system for reading through all five books of the Torah, congregationally,
in a single year. We also know that there was an ancient three-year cycle
among Jews living in Israel. In the twentieth century, Jews in America, knowing
that tradition, began to experiment with a modified triennial cycle.
We are also aware that Christians sometimes look at our Bible in a different way
than we do. Even so, it is a bit surprising that a major English-language
commentary on the Bible, Doubleday’s Anchor Bible, divided the book of
Exodus into two volumes. The division point was in the middle of parashat Yitro.
The first volume covers chapters 1 through 18, while the second volume covers
chapters 19 through 40.
Because the two systems divide the book differently, it is only fair to ask of each
system what internal logic motivated its choice:
1. Why did the rabbis of ancient Babylonia choose to group Chapter 18 with
Chapters 19 and 20, rather than connecting it to the previous chapters?
2. Let us assume that the division of the volumes in the Anchor Bible was
based on a philosophical rather than a book-binding decision. Why did
the editors see Chapter 18 as belonging with the previous chapters,
rather than as an introduction to Chapters 19 and 20?
PARASHAT MISHPATIM - BIRKAT HAHODESH -
SHABBAT SHEKALIM

Maftir: Ex. 30:11 – 16 (Etz Hayim, p. 523; Hertz p. 352)
Haftarah: II Kings 12:1 – 17 (Etz Hayim, p. 1276; Hertz p. 992)
Once they had received the Ten Commandments, the people still had to be
given many legal details in order to have enough information to establish their
community. While the Ten Commandments dealt with headline-worthy issues,
our material for this morning is quite detail-oriented. Today’s Torah portion
contains 53 of the 613 mitzvot, according to one of the widely accepted
tabulations of the Torah’s commandments. The material covers a broad range
of legal topics, from civil legislation to offenses against property to moral
offenses. Within its verses, we find the groundwork for a Torah-based society, a
groundwork expanded upon by the rabbis in the generations that followed. Near
the end of our parashah, there is a ceremony for the ratification of the covenant,
which is preceded by an exhortation about the Promised Land.
Issue #1: An Eye for an Eye
A person who injures another person is required to do a great deal more than
simply say “I’m sorry.” In the words of the Torah portion:
eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for
wound, bruise for bruise. (Exodus 21: 24-25)
On a surface level, this text appears to mandate a vengeful form of justice in

which the penalty for injuring another person is that the injurer must suffer an
identical injury.
We are not the first readers to ask ourselves whether a second injury in
punishment serves any productive purpose. The rabbis of the Talmud – and
virtually all of our traditional Jewish commentators – understand this passage to
mean monetary compensation. Thus we may paraphrase the rabbinic
interpretation of this verse to mean that the punishment for harming someone’s
eye is to be financially responsible for the consequences of the damage.
This scenario may be more complex than it first seems. Other ancient
civilizations had monetary restitution as part of their law codes. Unfortunately, in
those civilizations the fine sometimes was a remedy available to the wealthy,
who could pay money and be excused, but not for the poor, who had no money,
and therefore were punished in harsher ways. The Torah may have been
responding to inequity of this kind by stipulating a universal punishment for all
offenders. But the rabbis found such a prescription to be nearly barbaric. They
interpreted the statute in what they considered a more humane manner. More
information on the history of such statutes may be found in the article “Some
Postulates of Biblical Criminal Law” by Moshe Greenberg. This monograph,
originally published in 1960 in a book that long has been out of print, may be
read in the volume Studies in the Bible and Jewish Thought, published by the
Jewish Publication Society in 1995.
Consider both the text of the Torah and the way in which it has been
interpreted. Does one seem more just than the other? Does one system seem
easier to mete out than the other? What issues could arise from doing exactly
as the Torah says? Are all arms and legs of the same value? (If someone was a
dancer or pianist, might that mean their arms or legs are more valuable than
others?) Could this be a key to understanding the rabbis’ system?
Issue #2: Deferred Gratification
Following the distinctly legal material in parashat Mishpatim, we read the

reassuring words of the covenant restated. God is telling the Israelites that He
intends to bring them to the land of Canaan and to give it to them, sending away
the peoples who had previously inhabited the land. However, this transition
would not take place all at once. We are given a rationale for the gradual
conquest of the land by the Israelites:
I will not drive them out before you in a single year, lest the land become
desolate and the wild beasts of the field multiply to your detriment. I will drive
them out before you little by little, until you have increased and [can] possess
the land. (Exodus 23: 29-30)
Historically speaking, we tend to associate the conquest of Canaan with

Joshua, shortly after the death of Moses. But it is clear in the opening chapters
of the book of Judges that this was not the whole story. Chapter one of Judges
paints a post-Joshua picture of Israelite life that hardly could be called peaceful.
It may have taken a century or more before the Israelites solidly possessed the
Promised Land in its entirety.
Clearly the gradual pattern of conquest must have been a disappointment to

some of the Israelites. In what way does our text, chapter 23 verses 29-30,
portray an advantage to this gradualism? Is there a relationship between this
section and the decision to set the people Israel on a long path to the Promised
Land, rather than a more direct one? When undertaking a major project, what
are the benefits of moving quickly to completion? When might it be expedient to
move more slowly through the process?
Issue #3: Fundraising
The special Maftir portion that is read this morning stipulates a universal
contribution that was to be given by rich and poor alike:
The rich shall not pay more and the poor shall not pay less than half a shekel.
(Exodus 30:15)
When should people of means be given the opportunity to give special gifts for
communal projects, and when should people at all levels of wealth be treated as
equals?
In Deuteronomy 16:16-17, we find the following commandment regarding

observance of the holidays:
Three times a year — on the Feast of Unleavened Bread, on the Feast of

Weeks, and on the Feast of Booths — all your males shall appear before the
Lord your God in the place that He will choose. They shall not appear before the
Lord empty-handed, but each with his own gift, according to the blessing that
the Lord your God has bestowed upon you.
How can these two different approaches be reconciled? Do these verses offer
advice on setting fees for synagogue membership or programs? Is one
approach to be preferred over the other?
PARASHAT TERUMAH
February 24, 2007 – 6 Adar 5767
Annual: Ex. 25:1 – 27:19 (Etz Hayim p 485; Hertz p. 326)

Triennial: Ex. 26:31 – 27:19 (Etz Hayim p 491; Hertz p. 330)
Haftarah: I Kings 5:26 – 6:13 (Etz Hayim, p. 500; Hertz p. 336)
God commands Moses to direct the Israelites to contribute materials for the
construction and outfitting of a mishkan – a wilderness sanctuary – which
should be a symbolic dwelling place for the divine presence within the camp of
the wandering Israelites. The mishkan is to be outfitted with an ark, which will
hold the tablets of the Ten Commandments, certain curtained-off holy spaces,
and an altar for burnt offerings. Obviously, the Torah does not provide us with
graphic illustrations of these items, although there are artist’s conceptions found
in Humash Etz Hayim.
Issue #1: Specifications without Illustrations
One of the challenges in reading and understanding the material in these next
few chapters of the book of Exodus is visualizing the mishkan and its parts. We
are presented verbally with the design specifications for the mishkan and its
accessories, but (not surprisingly) the Torah presents us no visual aids to assist
us in picturing what the sanctuary and its vessels might have looked like.
Several books have been published in recent decades to assist our imagination,
in addition to the diagrams in Etz Hayim previously noted.
Why did this problem not appear to be a source of frustration to Moses?

Consider the following verses, drawn from various points within parashat
Terumah.
Exactly as I show you – the pattern of the mishkan and the pattern of all its
furnishings – so shall you make it. (Exodus 25:9)
Note well, and follow the patterns for them that are being shown to you on the
mountain. (Exodus 25:40)
Then set up the mishkan according to the manner of it that you were shown on
the mountain. (Exodus 26:30)
Make it... as you were shown on the mountain; so shall they be made. (Exodus
27:8)
In light of the above verses, we are not really surprised to read the following
interpretation in the Talmud:
Rabbi Yose the son of Rabbi Judah says: [The image of] an ark of fire and a
table of fire and a candelabrum of fire descended from the heavens, and Moses
saw [them] and made [these items] like them. (Menahot 29a)
Ordinarily, the rationalists in our midst might bristle at such a fanciful

interpretation. However, the four biblical verses quoted above make it obvious
that Moses had the benefit of a visual component to round out the verbal
specifications of the mishkan.
Is the lack of pictures of the mishkan and its accessories a hindrance as we

build new or remodel sanctuaries? Would it be better for us to have a set style
required for floor plans or design of arks, cups or other items? If we were taken
with the photos and models that have been built of late, should we adopt or
adapt them for modern use?
Issue #2: Chronology in the Latter Portion of the Book of Exodus
The timeline of events from this point to the end of the second book of the
Torah is elusive. As presented in the text, we read the commandment to the
Israelites regarding the construction of the mishkan and its vessels, followed by
the incident of the golden calf, later followed by the implementation of the
mishkan project.
The incident of the golden calf is unsettling enough. When we consider it within
the context of the letdown that followed the peak experience of revelation at
Sinai, there could be a glimmer of understanding of the people Israel in the
desert. We can understand that Moses, who had been the sole mediator of the
divine message to the Israelites, was absent (spending an additional 40 days on
Mount Sinai), and that the people lacked spiritual direction in his absence. Yet it
is hard to understand how the Israelites could have felt such a pressing need for
a physical representation of their contact with the divine if they were in the midst
of the project of constructing the mishkan.
If you are disturbed by this contradiction, you are not alone. Rashi (1040-1105),
the pre-eminent traditional commentator on the Torah, felt this problem as well.
In analyzing Exodus 31:18, he says:
There is not a strict chronology in the Torah. The incident of the [golden] calf
preceded the commandment of the construction of the Mishkan by many days.
Rashi did not invent the idea that the Torah sometimes departs from a strict
timeline. He is quoting a principle from the Talmud:
Said R. Menasia b. Tahlifa in Rab’s name: This proves that there is no

chronological order in the Torah. (Pesahim 6b)
This principle does not imply disrespect for the Torah, it simply acknowledges
that the Torah was designed as a book that teaches values, not as a history
book. Moreover, it does not assert that the Torah is an utter mishmash of
chronology. The assumption is that the paragraphs of the Torah have internal
timeline consistency, but the larger sections might not be presented in
chronological order.
As we have seen above, Rashi is convinced that the directive to construct the
Mishkan was not enunciated until after the golden calf episode. Others, notably
Ramban (1194-1270), adhere to a strict chronological view of these chapters
within the Torah. Since both views are considered legitimate, it is fair to ask:
How do you view the sequence of events discussed above? As we consider the
commitment of the people Israel to God, is there a difference between the two
views? Does it make a difference in how we understand the ways the Israelites
believed if the commandment to build the Mishkan came before or after the
Golden Calf?
PARASHAT TETZAVEH - SHABBAT ZAKHOR
March 3, 2007 – 13 Adar 5767

Triennial: Ex. 29:19 – 30 (Etz Hayim p. 513; Hertz p. 346)
Maftir: Deuteronomy 25:17 – 19 (Etz Hayim p. 1135; Hertz p. 856)
Haftarah: I Samuel 15:2 – 34 (Etz Hayim, p. 1280; Hertz p. 995)
This week’s Torah-portion opens with the commandment to use pure olive oil in
the rituals of the mishkan, the portable sanctuary. Next we read detailed
specifications for the vestments that Aaron and his sons are to wear when
functioning in a ritual capacity. Instructions are then given for a ritual to
consecrate the kohanim in order to give a formal beginning to their priestly
status and ritual positions. Finally, we are told about the daily sacrifices of
incense that the kohanim were to offer in the mishkan.
Issue #1: The Mishkan as a Divine Abode
Last week, in parashat Terumah, we read of God’s offer to the Israelites:
Let them make me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them. (Exodus 25:8)
This week, as the project unfolds, we read:
There I will meet with the Israelites, and it shall be sanctified by My Presence. I
will sanctify the Tent of Meeting and the altar, and I will consecrate Aaron and
his sons to serve Me as priests. I will abide among the Israelites, and I will be
their God. And they shall know that I the Lord am their God, who brought them
out from the land of Egypt that I might abide among them; I am the Lord their
God. (Exodus 29:43-46)
How might the Israelites extend themselves to enable God to recognize that He
is a welcome guest in their midst?
What might we do today, in the twenty-first century, to project our welcoming of

God into our synagogue community?
In our homes and congregations we observe many formal rituals of welcome,

among them: ushpizin (welcoming guests to a sukkah), Kabbalat Shabbat
(welcoming Shabbat), welcoming mourners as they come to the synagogue on
the Friday evening of shivah. Can these acts of welcoming people be a part of
welcoming God as well? In what ways are these two kinds of welcoming
related?
Issue #2: Where is Moses?
Curiously, the name of Moses is not mentioned in all of parashat Tetzaveh. It is

the only parashah in the last four books of the Torah in which Moses is not
mentioned by name. This glaring omission has sparked the imagination of many
students of the Torah. Moses does receive commands from God, but the
language is always phrased as “you” shall do this or that.
One interpretation that has been offered is that Moses has receded in order to
allow Aaron to occupy center stage, as it were, because the content of this
week’s Torah-portion deals with the vestments of Aaron and his sons in their
role as kohanim.
A more straightforward explanation might be that Moses was on Mount Sinai for
a follow-up visit, and so he was not among the Israelites at that time.
A third explanation recognizes the boldness that Moses demonstrated toward

God in arguing for the survival of Israel as a people. When God proposed to
destroy the people of Israel as punishment for the sin of the golden calf, which
would have left Moses as the lone survivor through whom God could still fulfill
His covenant with the patriarchs, Moses boldly told God that if He will forgive
the people’s sin, fine,
but if not, erase me from Your book which You have written. (Exodus 32:32)
No one can expect God to ignore such defiant words completely. According to
this interpretation, God gave Moses a token punishment: He erased the name
of Moses from this week’s parashah.
All these suggestions are fanciful. Of them, which fits best with the traditional
understanding of Moses’ personality? Is the ability to step back from the
limelight as positive trait for a leader? Does the suggestion that God might
punish Moses for taking a deeply felt stand seem uncomfortable? What is the
vision we have of a proper leader – one who simply accepts orders or one who
raises questions about orders that might not be appropriate? Did God expect
Moses simply to be a yes-man?
Issue #3: Amalek
In anticipation of Purim, we read a special Maftir dealing with the attack of the
Amalekites upon the Israelites shortly after the exodus from Egypt. You may
recall this narrative, which we read just four weeks ago. Today we read a more
terse treatment of this incident from Deuteronomy, rather than Exodus:
Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt – how,
undeterred by fear of God, he surprised you on the march, when you were
famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear. Therefore,
when the Lord your God grants you safety from all your enemies around you, in
the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a hereditary portion, you shall
blot out the memory of Amalek from under the heavens. Do not forget!
(Deuteronomy 25:17-19)
Reread the Amalek narrative in Exodus 17:8-16 that we read four weeks ago as
part of the weekly Torah portion. What strategic element does the Deuteronomy
passage add to the familiar Exodus passage?
There is no text in the Torah dealing with the threat to the Jewish community in
the Persian empire, because the Torah had long since been completed at the
time the Purim story took place. The closest analogy available was the story of
Amalek’s unprovoked attack on our people. Some interpretations suggest that
Haman may have been a genealogical descendant of Amalek. Whether or not
we take these interpretations seriously, we should recognize that Haman was
indeed a spiritual descendant of Amalek.
Many of us tend to associate Purim with merriment and even reckless abandon,
almost a Jewish alternative to Halloween. However, that is only part of the story.
When we ignore mortal threats to the Jewish people past, present, or future, we
do so at our own peril. How can we remember hurtful events in ways that have
a positive outcome? Is there a method to remembering that helps us grow? A
way of remembering that is less than positive?
PARASHAT KI TISSA - SHABBAT PARAH
March 10, 2007 – 20 Adar 5767

Maftir: Numbers 19:1 – 22 (Etz Hayim, p. 880; Hertz p. 652)
Our Torah portion opens with a census, which is taken by collecting a half-
shekel from each Israelite. Next, Moses receives more instructions about the
work on the Mishkan – the portable sanctuary – and on how to observe the
Sabbath.
The time has come for Moses to bring the tablets of the Ten Commandments
down from Mount Sinai, where, after the revelation of God to all the people of
Israel, he has just spent 40 days alone with God. Lamentably, a golden calf has
been fashioned in the camp of the Israelites at the very end of that 40-day
period. The Israelite camp is alive with what appears to be a celebration of a
pagan deity.
This event causes a radical change in Moses’ agenda. The rest of his summer
is to be spent repairing this new rift between God and the Israelites.
Issue #1: Forgiveness as a Process
Following the incident of the golden calf, Moses sought divine forgiveness on
behalf of the Israelites. This was not an instantaneous event. After all, Moses
had climbed the mountain and spent 40 days in God’s presence before the sin
of the golden calf. It was now necessary to re-establish the relationship between
God and Israel. After this healing had been achieved, it was appropriate to
repeat the process of Moses’ initial 40 days on the mountain.
An additional layer of significance may be realized by overlaying these three 40-

day periods upon the months of the Jewish calendar. Tradition teaches that the
revelation at Sinai took place on the sixth day of Sivan. Forty days later – the
episode of the golden calf – brings us to the 17 of Tammuz, which has been a
fast day since the destruction of the first Temple. Rashi summarizes the rest of
the chronology, paraphrasing Moses:
On the second ascent, I stayed [on Mount Sinai] for 40 days, which concluded
on the 29 of Av – since he had ascended on the 18 of Tammuz. On that day, He
pardoned Israel, and He said to Moses: “Carve yourself two tablets.” (Exodus
34:1) He (Moses) remained for another 40 days, thus concluding on Yom
Kippur. On that very day, the Holy Blessed One forgave Israel joyfully, and He
said to Moses: “I pardon, as you have asked.” (Numbers 14:20) Therefore [Yom
Kippur] was set aside for pardon and forgiveness. (Rashi’s commentary on
Deuteronomy 9:18)
This comment builds upon the connotations already present in the relationship
of Jews to our calendar. The third ascent would begin on the first day of the
month of Elul. In what ways do we express an intensifying of our penitential
spirit during the month of Elul?
Are there ways in which we can understand the actions of the Israelites back at
the base of the mountain? Is there a limit to people’s ability to wait, in contrast
to God’s? Is there a limit even to God’s ability to wait?
Issue #2: The Covenant of Compassion
In the wake of the incident of the golden calf, God and Moses become closer
than ever. Moses asks (33:18) to see the Divine Presence. God reminds him
(33:20) that a human being may not look upon God and survive. Instead, God
lets Moses see the Divine Presence indirectly (33:21-23). A few verses later
(34:6-7), God shares with Moses the thirteen attributes – that is, the 13 qualities
unique to God. After some rabbinic editing, these attributes eventually became
a key component of the services of our Day of Atonement and part of the Torah
service on Yom Tov as well. Their role in the biblical narrative inspired the
following fanciful interpretation:
Rabbi Yohanan said: If it had not been stated in the Torah, we could not say
this [because we know that God does not have a body like humans]: the Holy
Blessed One wrapped Himself in a tallit like a hazzan, showed Moses the order
of prayer [of these thirteen attributes] and said to him: Whenever the people of
Israel sin, let them recite this same order of prayer and I shall forgive them.
(Talmud, Rosh HaShanah 17b)
Writing in 1972, Rabbi Jules Harlow summarized this bond as follows:
Thus a covenant was established between God and the people Israel. This
covenant of compassion is referred to [throughout] the Yom Kippur service...
The thirteen attributes are at the core of each service on Yom Kippur... We feel
uncertainty and despair when confronted by our own and the world’s
imperfections. Yet our faith in the power of compassion gives us confidence for
the future. (Mahzor for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, p. 328)
The passage quoted above from the Talmud contains obvious exaggeration.
We all know that merely reciting a list of God’s qualities does not really bring
automatic forgiveness. Why, then, did Rabbi Yohanan indulge in this bold figure
of speech? How does knowing the history of the section affect our
understanding of this section of the liturgy?
PARASHAT VA’YAKHEL-PEKUDEI - BIRKAT
HAHODESH - SHABBAT HAHODESH
March 17, 2007 – 27 Adar 5767

Triennial Cycle: Ex. 39:22 – 40:38 (Etz Hayim p.567; Hertz p. 387)
Maftir: Ex. 12:1-20 (Etz Hayim, p. 380; Hertz p. 253)
Haftarah: Ezekiel 45:16 – 46:18 (Etz Hayim, p. 1290; Hertz p. 1001)
Vayakhel-Pekudei, a double parashah, tells primarily of the execution of the

plans for the construction and outfitting of the mishkan, the portable sanctuary,
in the desert. These detailed plans were laid out in previous weeks’ Torah
readings, parshiot Terumah and Tetzaveh. The opening verses of Vayakhel
underscore the sanctity of the Sabbath, implying that the work of constructing
the mishkan was to be confined to six days each week, regardless of the level
of the artisans’ enthusiasm for the project.
In the latter part of Pekudei, Moses is presented with the completed

components of the mishkan. It is his responsibility to assemble these pieces in a
coherent and appropriate manner.
Issue #1: An Impressive Capital Campaign
Moses had sent the word out among the Israelites that materials were needed
for the construction of the mishkan; his wish list is given in Exodus 35:4-9.
Anyone who ever has been involved in a capital campaign knows the
importance of soliciting major gifts in advance, to inspire others to give as well.
Somehow, this campaign followed a different set of rules; it was a grassroots
campaign. The results speak for themselves:
All the artisans who were engaged in the tasks of the mishkan came, each for
the task in which he was engaged, and said to Moses: “The people are bringing
more than is needed for the tasks entailed in the work that the Lord has
commanded to be done.” Moses thereupon had this proclamation made
throughout the camp: “Let no man or woman make further effort toward gifts for
the mishkan!” So the people stopped bringing; their efforts had been more than
enough for all the tasks to be done. (Exodus 36:4-7)
The massive response to the request for material was overwhelming. Yet there
was a need even for someone as trusted as Moses to be able to account for all
that was given:
This is the sum of the things of the tabernacle, of the tabernacle of Testimony,
as it was counted, according to the commandment of Moses, for the service of
the Levites, by the hand of Ithamar, son to Aaron the priest. (Exodus 38:21)
There is nothing known to us in Moses’ background that suggests that he had
any skill or experience in inspiring donations. What factors contributed to the
success of this campaign? Can you envision a set of circumstances under
which a fund-raising campaign in our time might approach the level of success
of Moses’ capital campaign for the mishkan?
Governmental agencies and public interest groups have gone to great lengths
to create a system for checking and double checking to ensure that charitable
groups use the monies given them appropriately. Why are such safeguards
needed? Is it, perhaps, a waste of the money given to a charity to have to
spend a rather sizeable amount proving that the money was spent
appropriately?
A textual aside: In Exodus 38:21, the word “the tabernacle” is repeated.

Grammatically and contextually the repetition is unnecessary. Rashi, the
medieval commentator, suggested (ad loc) that the repetition was an allusion to
the destruction of the two Temples in Jerusalem, something that had not yet
happened when the Torah text was written. What can we modern readers learn
from this kind of sensitivity to the Torah text?
Issue #2: Prophecy Outside the Holy Land
Today’s maftir portion (the final aliyah), specially selected in anticipation of the
start of the month of Nisan, opens with the following verse:
The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt: (Exodus 12:1)
This seemingly innocuous verse challenges a working theory of religion that

was widely accepted in the ancient world. The regnant theory was that each
land had its own god (or gods) who held sway in that location. Most ancient
peoples could not conceive of a divine being whose power encompassed more
than one locality.
A classic example of this thinking may be found in the story of the foreign
population that the king of Assyria had transported to Samaria, in the northern
part of the Holy Land, in the second half of the eighth century B.C.E.. They were
meant to take the place of the Israelites whom he had exiled. A report came
back to the king, complaining of a singularly poor absorption experience for the
new population:
“The nations which you deported and resettled in the towns of Samaria do not
know the rules of the God of the land; therefore He has let lions loose against
them which are killing them – for they do not know the rules of the God of the
land.”
The king of Assyria gave an order: “Send there one of the priests whom you
have deported, let them go and dwell there, and let him teach them the
practices of the God of the land.” (II Kings 17:26-27)
From the Assyrian king’s point of view (which was typical of religious thinking in
the ancient world), it was obvious that the problem was that the new population
was unfamiliar with the requirements for worshipping (or for pacifying) the local
divinity.
Since God’s earliest communications with Moses had taken place at the burning
bush in the wilderness, some might have inferred that the God of Israel had
power in the religious vacuum of the desert as well as the land of Israel, but not
in Egypt.
In our maftir portion, God clearly has no difficulty communicating with Moses
and Aaron while they are in Egypt. Moreover, the content of God’ message
involved the large-scale sacrifice of lambs, a practice that was repugnant to the
Egyptians and their religion.
In recent years, we have heard that “America is a Christian country.” Is there

any similarity between this slogan and the above-mentioned theory of local
gods?
HAZAK HAZAK v’NITHAZEK - BE STRONG, BE STRONG, AND LET US BE

STRENGTHENED
PARASHAT VAYIKRA
March 24, 2007 – 5 Nisan 5767
Annual: Leviticus 1:1 – 5:26 (Etz Hayim, p. 585; Hertz p. 410)

Triennial: Leviticus 4:27 – 5:26 (Etz Hayim, p. 599; Hertz p. 419)
Haftarah: Isaiah 43:21-44:23 (Etz Hayim, p. 607; Hertz p. 424)
Vayikra – the book of Leviticus – begins with the assumption that there will be a
system of sacrifice as a means of religious expression, and it proceeds to
outline the particulars of that system. The third book of the Torah does not invite
us to discuss the pros and cons of using sacrifice to worship. This set of
assumptions requires some mental adjustments on our part as we approach the
text.
The following categories of sacrifices are outlined in this week’s parashah:
a. A person may bring an olah (burnt-offering) voluntarily to atone for

personal neglect of one or more positive commandments. This sacrifice
could involve a bull, a sheep, a goat, two turtledoves, or two pigeons.
b. The minhah was a meal-offering. It was brought individually by someone
who lacked the means to bring an animal as a sacrifice. There were also
communal minhah offerings.
c. The korban sh’lamim essentially was a sacred meal, since the donor of
this sacrifice had the opportunity to eat some of it. A significant portion
also was given to the kohanim to consume; the rest was burned on the
altar.
d. The hattat (sin-offering) was brought in search of atonement for sins
committed accidentally or unknowingly.
e. The asham (guilt-offering) was a ram sacrificed to make amends for
denial of wrongdoing, or to seek forgiveness for an ambiguous offense.
Issue #1: Participation at Varying Economic Levels
It is readily apparent that different sacrifices were available to be offered by

people of different economic means. The variety ofoptions from cattle, which
were rather pricey, to less costly birds, to still less expensive grains
demonstrates that sacrifices were not reserved so only the wealthy could
express themselves religiously. Rather, people at every rung of the economic
ladder should have the opportunity to develop a relationship with God.
In parashat Ki Tissa we read the following directive:
Everyone who is entered in the records, from the age of twenty years up, shall
give the Lord’s offering: the rich shall not pay more and the poor shall not pay
less than half a shekel when giving the Lord’s offering as expiation for your
persons. (Exodus 30:14-15)
What lessons can we learn for our congregations, today, based on these
directives and the clear accommodation within the sacrificial system for all
people, regardless of how much money they might have? How can we
encourage participation by Jews at all economic levels in the programming at
our synagogues today? We often speak, colloquially, of a person “making a
sacrifice” through activities and donation of time to a cause. What are some of
the things that a synagogue can do to involve both the wealthy and the not-so-
wealthy?
Issue #2: Penitence and Forgiveness
Consider the following passage from Maimonides (Laws Concerning

Repentance, 7:4):
Let not the penitent suppose that he is kept far away from the degree attained
by the righteous because of the iniquities and sins that he has committed. This
is not so. He is beloved by the Creator, desired by Him, as if he had never
sinned. Moreover, his reward is great; since, though having tasted sin, he
renounced it and overcame his evil passion. The sages say, “Where penitents
stand, the completely righteous cannot stand.” This means that the degree
attained by penitents is higher than that of those who had never sinned, the
reason being that the former have had to put forth a greater effort to subdue
their passions than the latter.
We tend to have long memories for the sins of others. Maimonides clearly
wants us to understand that a reformed now-former sinner is to be viewed with
the utmost respect. In keeping with this teaching, what are some of the habits
that we as a society ought to reconsider in order to avoid typecasting people
unfairly? And, because the habits of society are unlikely to change overnight,
what can we as individuals do to further these worthy aims?
The political season is already heating up; does Maimonides’ position provide
us with a better lens to look at the personal background of those running for
office? Are their past actions so grievous that they should not be forgiven?
Issue #3: Expressions of Thanks
As we will see more clearly in next week’s parashah, one form of the korban
sh’lamim was a sacrifice of thanksgiving. (See Leviticus 7:11.) What avenues
are available today for Jews to express their thanksgiving within the Jewish
community? Are these comparable to the offering of a sacrifice?
PARASHAT TZAV - SHABBAT HAGADOL
March 31, 2007 – 12 Nisan 5767

Haftarah: Malakhi 3:4 – 24; 3:23 (Etz Hayim, p.1296; Hertz p. 1005)
Parashat Tzav assumes that the reader fully understands and agrees with the
rationale for the sacrifices (a great stretch for some of us in 5767 / 2007), and
proceeds directly to the specifics of how to offer up the various kinds of
sacrifices.
The olah is an animal sacrifice to be consumed by flame. Symbolically speaking,

it ascends to heaven as it burns throughout the night. The ashes that remain
are removed by a kohen the next morning.
The minhah is a grain-offering enhanced by fragrant spices. A portion of it is

burned and a portion given to the kohanim; it is made into unleavened cakes
and the kohamin eat it inside their own sacred space.
The hattat is a purification offering; its underlying details were discussed in last
week’s parashah. The kohanim eat some of it inside their own sacred space
and some of it is burned. The burned part is considered to be a gift to heaven.
The asham, a reparation sacrifice, is offered in the same way as the hattat.
The sh’lamim sacrifice is divided into three parts. One portion is burned as a gift
to heaven, another is given to a kohen, and the third is eaten by the Israelite
sponsoring the sacrifice. Some have suggested that this is the source of the
name sh’lamim: this sacrifice makes shalom – peace – between these three
groups by giving a share to each.
With these categories demarcated, the time has come to initiate the sacrificial
system. Aaron and his sons are secluded for seven days of purification. They
are anointed with oil, as is the mishkan – the portable sanctuary – and its
vessels. Moses carries out the details of the sacrifices personally during this
week, and then he ordains Aaron and his sons to carry them on.
Issue #1: Hametz
The Shabbat before Passover is known as Shabbat HaGadol. At this time of

year, much of our thought and action as we prepare for the holiday revolves
around removing hametz from our homes. Interestingly enough, there were
parts of the mishkan, and later of the Temple, that were hametz-free zones
throughout the year. Leavened food was not to be burned upon the altar
(Leviticus 2:11, 6:10, and 7:13).
In a remarkable passage in the Talmud (B’rakhot 17a), Rabbi Alexandri is said
to have concluded his own prayers with the words:
Master of the universe, it is abundantly clear before You that it is our desire to
carry out Your will. And what holds us back? The leavening in the dough and
our subjugation by stronger nations. May it be Your will to save us from their
hands, that we may devote ourselves to fulfill Your desired ordinances
wholeheartedly.
Most Jews today live in places where subjugation by stronger nations does not
affect our ability to do the right thing. This leaves only “the leavening in the
dough.”
The phrase “the leavening in the dough” is a puzzling one. The consensus is
that this is a reference to the evil inclination that occasionally asserts itself
within human behavior. While fermentation can add quality to some products, it
often ruins others. What is it about the evil inclination that might cause someone
to compare it to fermenting dough? Is there a relationship between the process
of leavening and what is often called “being full of hot air”? Are there ways in
which we can rid ourselves of some of this spiritual leavening of the dough as
Passover approaches?
Issue #2: Focus on Aaron
Much of the Torah describes Moses’ life and his leadership qualities. Aaron,
who also played a significant role, spends most of his time in the background.
Since Aaron and his sons are installed in the priesthood in our parashah, it may
be appropriate for us to review some key themes in Aaron’s life.
a. Mouthpiece of Moses (Exodus 4:14-16)

b. Initiated several of the Ten Plagues
c. Supported Moses in battle with Amalek (Exodus 17:11-12)
d. Role in the golden calf incident (Exodus 32)
e. Installed as Kohen Gadol (high priest)
f. Lost two sons (Leviticus 10:1-7)
g. Consecrated the Levites (Numbers 8:5-22)
h. Prohibited from entering the Promised Land (Numbers 20:12-13)
In what ways was Aaron an above-average leader?
In what ways did his leadership leave room for improvement?
Was he called upon to be more versatile than we can reasonably expect one
person to be?
Many post-biblical sources view Aaron in a highly positive light. Consider the
following mishnah:
Hillel taught: Be a disciple of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving
your fellow creatures and attracting them to the study of Torah. (Avot 1:12)
Obviously, these dimensions of Aaron’s personality are not always evident in
the biblical text. Which of the themes noted above might be used to explain the
rabbis’ view of Aaron as described in Pirke Avot? Do we see ourselves in
similar kinds of situations, where our personal priorities sometimes are
overshadowed byevents that swirl around us? How might we enable those
things that are important to us to occupy center stage in our lives?
SHABBAT HOL HAMOED PESAH
April 7, 2007 – 19 Nisan 5767
Annual: Exodus 33:12 – 34:26 (Etz Hayim, p. 538; Hertz p. 362)

Maftir: Numbers 28:19 – 25 (Etz Hayim, p.932; Hertz p. 695)
Summary of the Torah Reading
Throughout the year, Jews follow a cycle of Torah readings that moves forward,
every Shabbat, through the five books of the Torah. On festivals, we set aside
the regular cycle and read material that is chosen for its thematic connection to
the holy day.
Our reading from the first Torah-scroll today (which should be familiar from four
weeks ago, when we read it as part of the regular cycle of weekly Torah
readings) deals with the aftermath of the incident of the golden calf. Moses now
has two main tasks. His immediate job is to repair the rift that has developed in
the people’s relationship with God as a result of their disregard for the covenant.
In addition, Moses wishes to draw nearer to God and to know His qualities and
characteristics. (We presume that this has been a long-time wish of Moses’.
However, it gains further urgency in the wake of the near-severing of relations
between God and the people Israel.)
God reminds Moses that no human being can look directly at God and survive.
Instead He suggests to Moses a way for Moses to gaze indirectly at God. As a
result of this encounter, Moses learns thirteen attributes of God. In a covenant
of compassion, God seems to reassure Moses that He will be especially
receptive to the Israelites and their descendants whenever they invoke these
thirteen attributes in sincere devotion (as we do quite often on Yom Kippur).
Ironically, our liturgy calls for us to invoke these thirteen divine attributes (as
part of the service for taking out the Torah) on all festival days except Shabbat.
However, on the Shabbat that falls during Hol Ha-Mo’ed, we read this particular
passage from the Torah, thereby “smuggling” the covenant of compassion back
into our service. Since we are in a reflective festival mode, it is highly
appropriate for us to take this opportunity to reflect on the nature of the divine
and upon our relationship with our God.
Our reading from the second Torah scroll enumerates sacrifices that were
brought annually on Passover as an ancient expression of devotion to the
relationship between God and the people Israel.
Shir Ha-Shirim: The Song of Songs
The festival service is marked by the Torah readings outlined above, as well as
a Haftarah reading. All this is preceded by the recitation of Hallel, a group of
poems (Psalms 113-118) that are sung congregationally. In addition, some
congregations chant all or part of Shir Ha-Shirim, a cluster of love poems found
in our Bible as one of the Five Megillot. (Other congregations, following the
custom established by Rabbi Elijah, the Gaon of Vilna, do not chant Shir Ha-
Shirim at all. The same variation in practice occurs regarding the chanting of the
Scroll of Ruth on Shavuot, and Kohellet/Ecclesiastes on Sukkot.)
The Five Megillot are not printed in the Humashim available in most of our
synagogues. (This fact may be chalked up to the economics of publishing,
coupled with the custom that three of these books are not chanted at all in some
synagogues.) In an attempt to address this omission, the Siddur Sim Shalom
prints excerpts. (The Song of Songs appears on pages 788-790 in the classic
Sim Shalom, on pages 377-378 in Sim Shalom for Shabbat and Holidays.)
One may well ask the question: What is a cluster of love poems doing in the
Bible, and why might they be chanted at a festival service? In fact, Shir Ha-
Shirim was nearly excluded from the canon of our Bible. Rabbi Akiva (d.135
C.E.) endorsed the inclusion of this book, resourcefully arguing:
There was no worthwhile day in the history of the world like the day on which
Shir Ha-Shirim was given to Israel, for all scriptures are holy, but Shir Ha-shirim
is the holy of holies. (Mishmah Yadayim 3:5)
This obvious exaggeration flowed from Rabbi Akiva’s sympathy for the
viewpoint that endorses an allegorical interpretation of this love poetry. The late
Rabbi Isaac Klein summarized this school of thought in his 1979 volume, A
Guide to Jewish Religious Practice:
According to rabbinic tradition Shir Ha-Shirim is a love song, with God the
beloved and the children of Israel as the bride. Since Pesah marks the
beginning of this courtship (its culmination was Matan Torah [at Sinai]), the
reading of the Song of Songs during Pesah is most appropriate. The Song of
Songs is also a song to spring (2:11-13). Pesah is a spring festival both literally
and figuratively. Spring means hope and happiness. In this case, hope lies in
freedom, and happiness in the attachment to the law of God. (page 38)
Nonetheless, Rabbi Akiva warned elsewhere (Tosefta Sanhedrin 12:5) against

chanting this material in a frivolous context. Clearly he felt that a delicate
balance must be maintained when love themes are introduced into religious
literature.
PARASHAT SHEMINI - BIRKAT HAHODESH
April 14, 2007 – 26 Nisan 5767

Haftarah: II Samuel 6:1 – 7:17 (Etz Hayim, p. 645; Hertz p. 454)
Parashat Shemini opens with the culmination of the process of inaugurating the
portable sanctuary, the mishkan. Under Moses’ tutelage, Aaron and his sons
complete the initial sacrifices, and a miraculous fire consumes the sacrifices.
At this auspicious moment, something goes terribly wrong. Another divine fire
appears, killing Aaron’s two eldest sons. Aaron is stunned and silent. God
commands him and his two younger sons to avoid all alcoholic beverages when
they perform their ritual duties. (We are left to wonder whether this is a hint as
to why two kohanim were just struck down, or whether this is simply a general
instruction aimed at differentiating the Israelite pattern of worship from those of
the neighboring religions.)
Moses and Aaron discuss the hesitation that Aaron and his remaining sons feel
about continuing wholeheartedly with their ritual activities at this juncture in their
lives.
The final chapter of this week’s parashah focuses on describing the species of
animals that may be eaten within the framework of kashrut, the Jewish dietary
laws. Mammals must chew their cud and have a split hoof. (The examples are
of animals that meet one of these criteria but not both, reinforcing the point that
both are required.) Fish must have both fins and scales. Rather than
enumerating for us the criteria for determining which birds may be eaten, the
Torah simply lists those species of birds that are prohibited.
Issue #1: Mourning Laws and Customs
The Torah does not command us to mourn in a particular fashion after losing a
family member. However, there are certain assumptions about mourning
practices that lie just beneath the surface of the Torah’s text.
After the deaths of Nadav and Avihu, the bereaved family would want to mourn,
but outward expressions of grief would be highly problematic in the middle of
the ceremony inaugurating the mishkan and initiating the Kohanim. There is a
tension between the personal needs of the bereaved and the needs of the
community. Thus we can understand the need for the following injunction:
Moses said to Aaron and to his sons, El’azar and Itamar, “Do not dishevel your
hair and do not rend your clothes, lest you die and anger strike the whole
community. But your kinsmen, all the house of Israel, shall bewail the burning
that the Lord has wrought.” (Leviticus 10:6)
Over time, many mourning rituals have become part of Jewish tradition. The
observance of the shiva period is an example of the mourning family and the
comforting community coming together.
Shiva lasts seven days. The day of the funeral is the first day and one hour of
the seventh day counts as a full day. Shivah is suspended at 1 o’clock Friday
afternoon and is resumed after Shabbat is over. If a major holiday, such as
Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot, Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur falls during the shiva
period, shiva ends at 1 o’clock on the eve of the festival. Speak to your rabbi for
further details.
The shivah period begins after the funeral with a simple meal, the seudat
havra’ah, the meal of consolation. People often rinse their hands with water
before entering the house for the meal. This meal, traditionally provided by
family and friends for the mourners, is not meant as a social occasion; neither
meat nor wine, two symbols of joy, should be served. Because it is a time to
rest and reflect on the day’s events, only family and the closest friends should
attend. A party-like atmosphere should not be allowed to develop.
In its wisdom, our tradition recognizes that when someone undergoes a major
life change, he or she must step out of everyday activity for a while. Your rabbi
can get in touch with an employer to explain the practice and make
arrangements to allow the mourner to miss work.
There are a number of practices associated with observing shiva. We cover

mirrors in the home, to show that we reduce the importance normally placed on
personal vanity. Mourners are encouraged not to wear shoes and to sit on low
stools. This shows that we change the way we live during this time.
People pay shiva calls to fulfill the mitzvah of nihum avelim, comforting the
mourners. These visits demonstrate community concern at the time of loss. The
visits help the mourners with their feelings of isolation or desertion, which are
natural after the death of a loved one. Even if many people have gathered,
those present should be sure that the gathering does not feel like a party.
Conversation should center around the life of the dead person; it is appropriate
to share memories.
Mourners are not obligated to have food or drink available for visitors. Selected
from Death and Mourning Customs, by Rabbi Paul Drazen)
One of the visible signs of Jewish mourning is the rending (tearing) of clothing
by the mourner. [In some communities, where this practice is not observed
literally, the mourner will tear a black ribbon and wear it during shivah.] Another
theme of Jewish mourning is the lack of concern for personal appearance,
represented in the Biblical passage above by disheveled hair. What other
traditional mourning practices can be learned from a reading of the command to
Aaron and his family?
In the passage above, since Aaron and his sons were unable to express their
mourning fully at that specific time (due to other divine commandments that had
been directed to them specifically), the rest of the community was called upon
to mourn on behalf of the bereaved. What role does the community ordinarily
play vis-à-vis those who are sitting shivah? In what ways can community
members provide support for the mourners?
Issue #2: Kashrut and Holiness
Judaism would agree that feelings and beliefs are essential to holiness, but it
would assert that the struggle for holiness on the part of a human being does
not begin there (nor should it end there for that matter). Judaism is not a one-
day-a-week religion, nor does it concern itself only with prayer or Synagogue or
ritual, nor does it limit itself to catechisms. On the contrary, its great claim, as
expressed throughout the entire range of its literature from the Torah to the
latest responsum, is that it must encompass the entirety of a man's being; that it
is, in fact, a way of life, affecting all of one's days or none of them, relevant to
one's total manner of living or to none of it, just as concerned with the seeming
trivialities as with the exalted aspects of one's existence. Indeed, it would assert
that it is precisely with these seeming trivialities, these common, everyday
actions of ours which are matter-of-fact and habitual and apparently
inconsequential that we must commence, in order to create the holy man. And
what is more common, more ordinary, more seemingly trivial and
inconsequential than the process of eating?...
Attitudes often derive from activities. Now we can better understand what the
mitzvah of Kashrut is attempting to achieve and can see it in its proper context.
We are commanded to be a holy people. "Thou shalt be holy for I the Lord thy
God am holy." "Thou shalt be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation." Israel is
commanded to be holy; again and again commanded to be holy. But how do we
become holy? We become holy by making holy, by hallowing. (Rabbi Samuel
Dresner in The Jewish Dietary Laws, pp. 17-18 (Available from USCJ’s Book
Service)
For those who are not vegetarians, one of the central rules of Kashrut is the
manner in which the animal is slaughtered. (We are aware that slaughterhouses
are not always as humane as they should be, and we encourage attempts to
heighten sensitivity to the pain of animals about to be slaughtered, and to keep
that pain to a minimum. But that is not the focus of this question.)
The rules for kosher slaughtering are derived from the manner in which animals
were to be slaughtered as sacrifices in the Mishkan, and later in the Temple. Is
it surprising that a set of rules derived from religious worship (Remember:
sacrifices were once a form of worship!) came to be required for a seemingly
secular activity (the supplying of food for our meals)? What does this tell us
about the expectations that Judaism has for the way that we take care of the
mundane aspects of our daily lives?
Issue #3: Kashrut and Health
We have often heard people say that the Jewish dietary laws were instituted for
health reasons. Reread Chapter 11, which outlines these regulations. (Optional:
read Deuteronomy, Chapter 14, too.) What information, if any, does this
material communicate about health aspects of Kashrut? If we accept the
understanding of kashrut and holiness noted above, should any health claims
(or lack of them) impact a decision about keeping kosher?
PARASHIOT TAZRIA-METZORA
April 21, 2007 – 3 Iyar 5767

Triennial Cycle: Leviticus 14:33 – 15:33 (Etz Hayim p. 663; Hertz p. 473)
Haftarah: II Kings 7:3 - 20 (Etz Hayim p. 676; Hertz p. 477)
Summary of the Parashiot
Most of our reading this week deals with the human body. Although the human
body is familiar to us, the approach to the body reflected in these chapters may
be foreign to the twenty-first-century mind.
The Torah tells us that a woman is to undergo a period of ritual impurity after
childbirth. Surprisingly, the prescribed period differs depending on whether a
boy or a girl was born.
A great deal of attention is paid to tzara’at, a leprosy-like skin disease. Specific

procedures are set forth for diagnosis and for quarantine. A sacrifice is to be
offered upon remission. We learn that tzara’at may afflict not only people but
also garments and even houses.
The Torah also directs our attention to the discharge of body fluids, those from
males, those from females, and some from either. There are rituals of
purification available for such circumstances.
Issue #1: Illness and Privacy
As for the person with a leprous affliction, his clothes shall be rent, his head
shall be left bare, and he shall cover over his upper lip; and he shall call out,
“Unclean! Unclean!” He shall be unclean as long as the disease is on him.
Being unclean, he shall dwell apart; his dwelling shall be outside the camp.
(Leviticus 13:45-46)
The leper is required to call out to warn others of his own illness. We assume
that this is done because of a concern that the disease may be communicable,
thus threatening others. The community clearly has a legitimate need to know
that overrides our possible concern for the leper’s privacy.
We often face a different situation in our synagogues, as well as in our personal

lives nowadays. When we learn that a neighbor or friend is in the hospital (or
being treatedat home), we would like to tell others about this illness, not as an
exercise in gossip, but as an opportunity for peers to extend a helping hand or a
word of encouragement to the sick person. Yet it is quite possible that the
person who is ill is not yet ready to share the private fact of being sick with the
world at large.
How should we balance the community’s natural desire to know against the
individual’s legitimate right to privacy? This is not simply an intellectual exercise.
Any one of us is likely at some time or another to find ourselves in either or both
of those positions.
Rabbis and physicians, especially, are caught in the middle. Most people
understand that medical ethics prevent a doctor from discussing the details of a
patient’s illness with others. But rabbis are often expected to extend get-well
wishes from the pulpit. Often, because the rabbi has wished a r’fuah sh’leimah
(thorough recovery) to someone from the pulpit, after the service well-meaning
congregants ask the rabbi for personal information about the sick person. This
information may have been given to the rabbi confidentially by the patient or by
a family member. As more and more communities take the opportunity for a
congregational well wishing during the service, more people will hear other
people’s names, and see their family and friends pray publicly for healing. If you
have recited that prayer, how can you respond truthfully and sociably without
violating a confidence, and without making others reluctant to seek prayer and
counsel in the future? How can you offer support and help without seeming
pushy?
Extensive medical privacy laws are widespread throughout the United States;
clearly the legal community has found the right to privacy of greater value than
a community’s need to know in order to provide support and help for patient and
caregivers. How should our congregational communities deal with this tension?
Issue #2: Perspective in Diagnosis
A person may look at (i.e. evaluate) all afflictions, except his own afflictions.
(Mishnah, N’ga-im 2:5)
This rule implies that when someone is too close to a problem, he or she may
not be able to see it in a proper perspective. Although this rule was designed for
the diagnosis of skin diseases, might it not have broader applicability in areas
other than medicine?
a. On the political or legal scene, there is often a sense that a person might
have a conflict of interest in a case or situation. Following the mishnah’s
logic, who should best determine if that person should pull back or
recuse him- or herself from a case or negotiation? How do we determine
whether or not a particular situation poses a conflict of interest for a
public official?
b. How should a corporation assure itself (and others) that it is acting in a
way that pays due regard to the public interest?
c. Why do people find it useful to bring their personal problems to
counselors or advisers, even if the counselor is no more intelligent than
the person seeking advice?
PARASHIOT AHAREY MOT-KEDOSHIM -
ANNIVERSARY WARSAW GHETTO UPRISING
April 28, 2007 – 10 Iyar 5767

Triennial: Leviticus 19:15 – 20 -:27 (Etz Hayim, p. 696; Hertz p. 500)
Haftarah: Amos 9:7 – 15 (Etz Hayim, p. 706; Hertz p. 509)
Summary of This Week's Parashiot
Following a brief passing reference to the death of Aaron’s two eldest sons,
which was reported in more detail in an earlier parashah, the Torah details the
procedures to be carefully followed in the sacrificial rituals of Yom Kippur.
These rituals are performed only by the high priest, the kohen gadol; as he does
so the people are to practice self-denial, including fasting.
In reference to sacrifices, we are reminded not to consume the blood of any

animal. (This prohibition also extends to meat that is consumed outside the
sacrificial framework; it is a matter of sensitivity to life.) Similarly, we are
prohibited from eating the meat of an animal that has died of natural causes or
has been torn apart.
In dealing with further aspects of holiness, the Torah defines which sexual
relationships are permissible and which are forbidden. The level of detail in this
section is matched by the meticulous detail of the social legislation that follows.
While gathering the harvest, we are to leave the corners and the gleanings for
the poor. We are not to steal or lie or take God’s name in vain. We are to pay
wages in a timely fashion and to show sensitivity to those who cannot hear or
see. We are to judge justly and refrain from gossip. We should be forgiving, yet
offer constructive criticism. We are to love our neighbors as ourselves. We are
to honor the old. We are to respect the stranger, keeping in mind that we were
strangers in the land of Egypt. We must maintain just weights and measures.
We are prohibited from following many of the practices of the peoples who
preceded us in the Promised Land. Our behavior must be worthy of the gift we
will receive, a land flowing with milk and honey.
Topic #1: Mandatory Charity
Our society is accustomed to thinking of charity as a voluntary activity. However,

the Torah portrays certain forms of charity as commandments. (Following this
pattern, Judaism came to refer to charity as tzedakah, which is derived from the
Hebrew word for justice, tzedek.) Chapter 19 of Leviticus acknowledges no
distinction between the charity that is required of a farmer (verses 9-10) and the
requirement for just weights and measures (verses 35-36).
Would either of these acts be considered “charity” as we use the word today?
How would we describe such actions? What message can we learn from the
fact that the Torah seems to equate these two kinds of actions by listing them in
such close proximity? In what ways do both of these clusters of commandments
promote well-being for all levels of society?
Topic #2: Varieties of Tzedakah
Maimonides deals with various forms of charity in Book VII of his code of Jewish
law. (This volume is called Seeds. Keep in mind that several forms of required
tzedakah, as outlined in today’s Torah reading, involve aspects of the harvest,
since the Torah reflects an agrarian society.)
Maimonides saw the various forms of tzedakah as forming a hierarchy. The

following are excerpts from his synthesis in Chapter 10 of “Gifts to the Poor,” a
section from Seeds.
a. The highest degree … is that of the person who assists a poor Jew by
providing him with a gift or a loan or by accepting him into a business
partnership or by helping him find employment – in a word, by putting
him where he can dispense with other people’s aid.
b. A step below this stands the one who gives alms to the needy in such a
manner that the giver knows not to whom he gives and the recipient
knows not from whom it is that he takes.
c. One step lower is that in which the giver knows to whom he gives but the
poor person knows not from whom he receives.
d. A step lower is that in which the poor person knows from whom he is
taking but the giver knows not to whom he is giving.
e. The next degree lower is that of him who, with his own hand, bestows a
gift before the poor person asks.
f. The next degree lower is that of him who gives only after the poor person
asks.
g. The next degree lower is that of him who gives less than is fitting but
gives with a gracious mien.
h. The next degree lower is that of him who gives morosely.
Questions for Discussion:
1. What psychological concerns appear to contribute to Maimonides’

hierarchy of levels of tzedakah?
2. Maimonides uses the terms “poor” and “recipient” interchangeably. He
seems never to refer to the donor as “rich,” though. Why do you suppose
he does that?
3. Within Maimonides’ hierarchy of tzedakah, can you identify any
underlying rationales that he may have extracted from this week’s Torah
reading?
PARASHAT EMOR
May 5, 2007 – 17 Iyar 5767

Triennial Cycle: Leviticus 23:23 – 24:23 (Etz Hayim p. 727; Hertz p. 522)
Haftarah: Ezekiel 44:15 – 31 (Etz Hayim p. 735; Hertz p. 528)
This week’s parashah opens with the rules governing the kohanim, the priests.
Kohanim generally are prohibited from contact with dead bodies – the exception,
a significant one, is when a member of the kohen’s family dies. (Note the sharp
contrast with other ancient peoples, notably the Egyptians, whose holy people
were very involved with the dead.) Next, we are told whom the kohanim may or
may not marry.
Because much of a kohen’s food is taken from the sacrifice, and because if a
kohen were to eat any food found to be ritually impure he would temporarily be
unable to eat any more of it, the rules governing sacrifices are far more than an
abstraction. The parasha give guidelines that determine when a kohen has
become impure and how to remedy that situation.
Sacrifices must be brought from the best animals and produce that we have to
offer. An animal with an injury or blemish is ineligible for sacrifice. Details of
ineligibility are spelled out.
Laws concerning Shabbat and other major holidays are enumerated.
Next come guidelines about the ner tamid – the eternal light -- and the
showbread, the twelve loaves on display in the mishkan.
An incident of blasphemy takes place. Punishment is meted out, and laws

relating to blasphemy are delineated. Other laws involving major penalties are
reviewed.
Issue #1: A Matter of Context
Between the Torah’s outline of the sacrifices for Shavuot and its treatment of
Rosh HaShanah, we encounter the following verse:
And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap all the way to
the edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest; you shall leave
them for the poor and the stranger: I the Lord am your God. (Leviticus 23:22)
The placement of this verse is somewhat puzzling to us, since we are

conditioned to view the festivals (as well as their corresponding sacrifices)
within the category of “ritual.” We are not in the habit of viewing the corners of
the field or the gleanings of the harvest as matters of divine concern. Yet we
have no basis for assuming that this verse was plunked down accidentally here.
What can we learn from the Torah’s apparently deliberate placement of this
public policy mandate in the midst of a series of religious requirements?
This question is hardly a new one. The classic commentator Rashi addresses
this issue:
…Why is this section placed in the middle of the section on holidays? The
placement teaches: One who leaves corners and gleanings for the poor as
appropriate, it is as if he built the Temple and offered sacrifices there. (Rashi,
ad loc)
How did Rashi address this editorial dilemma? Was his answer similar to one
we have given? Does this emphasis suggest that the mitzvah was likely to be
observed?
Issue #2: Why Does Sukkot Take Place in the Fall?
We are accustomed to Sukkot falling after the summer has ended. (In Israel,
Sukkot takes place at the end of the hot, dry season.) We may ask, however,
how the message of Sukkot might have been different if it had been established
as a springtime holiday. This question is especially legitimate in light of the
passage that outlines the rationale for the sukkah:
You shall live in sukkot for seven days; all citizens in Israel shall live in sukkot,
in order that future generations may know that I caused the Israelite people to
live in sukkot when I brought them out of the land of Egypt … (Leviticus 23:42-
43)
A procedure designed to remind us of living conditions after the exodus from

Egypt (which, no one disputes, occurred in the spring) logically should be
observed at the start of the dry season, not at the end of the summer.
This question was addressed by Rabbi Ya’akov ben Moshe Ha-Levi (d. 1427),
known as the MaHaRIL, who lived in Germany. In his book Minhagim (customs),
as he transitions from Yom Kippur to Sukkot, he writes:
… the Holy Blessed One therefore commanded to make sukkot during Tishri (in
the fall), and not during Nisan (in the spring), even though it is written “when I
brought them out of the land of Egypt.” For if they were to do it in Nisan, the
[fulfillment of the] commandment would not be so evident, since someone who
sees him living in a sukkah at that time would say, “The [shade of the] sukkah is
pleasing to him, as the days of [oppressive] sunlight are getting underway.”
However in Tishri, when the rainy season is beginning and everyone is going
into their [permanent] homes, yet [the people of] Israel are establishing their
residence in a sukkah, [everyone can understand that] surely it is their intention
to do the will of their Father in heaven.
Why does the MaHaRIL find Sukkot’s placement in the fall to be appropriate?
Do you agree with his reasoning? If not, do you have a different theory about
why the sukkah is appropriate for that time of year? For those who live in a
climate where it is not necessarily pleasant to live outside in the fall, how does
where we live affect our understanding of the commandment?
Issue #3: What Do We Hope to Accomplish Through Dwelling in a

Sukkah?
Writing in fourteenth-century Spain, Rabbi Isaac Aboab put forth the following
analysis of the sukkah’s value:
The sukkah is designed to warn us that man is not to put his trust in the size or
strength or beauty of his home, though it be filled with all precious things; nor
must he rely upon the help of any human being, however powerful. But let him
put his trust in the great God, Whose word called the universe into being, for He
alone is mighty, and His promises alone are sure. (M’norat Ha-Ma’or III 4:6)
Is this message more valuable for Jews in fourteenth-century Spain or for Jews
in twenty-first-century North America?
PARASHAT BEHAR-BEHUKOTAI - BIRKAT
HAHODESH
May 12, 2007 – 24 Iyar 5767

Haftarah: Jeremiah 16:19 – 17:14 (Etz Hayim, p. 763; Hertz p. 551)
Summary of This Week's Parashiot
The opening section of this week’s Torah reading prescribes a seven-year

farming cycle in the Promised Land. Farmers are expected to work the land for
six years and to let all the land lie fallow throughout the seventh year, which is
known as the year of Shmitah.
The fiftieth year, which comes after seven such cycles, has the special status of
Yovel -- Jubilee year. A key aspect of the yovel was that any land that had been
sold during the previous 49 years would return to its original owners. The
obvious intent of this rule was to give a fresh start to people who may have
suffered economic reversals. A farmer could be separated from his land
temporarily, but that separation could not be permanent. Under this system, the
Torah explicitly recognizes (Leviticus 25:15-16) that what appears to be a sale
of land in reality is only a sale of the use of the land until the Jubilee year. The
price, of course, would change constantly, dropping as the yovel drew ever
closer. One especially familiar passage in this week’s Torah reading is the
verse excerpted and inscribed on the Liberty Bell: In the language of the
eighteenth century, Leviticus 25:10 was translated:
Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof.
The underlying assumption of the above system, as outlined in Leviticus 25, is

that the land belongs to God, who lets us use it. We are to serve as stewards of
the land, taking good care of it under a divine mandate. When Israel lives up to
the expectations expressed in God’s covenant, then all will be harmonious.
When Israel reneges on the covenant, the consequences may be disastrous, as
articulated in Chapter 26.
Chapter 27 concludes the book of Leviticus with a discussion of vows that may
be made for sacrifices or other gifts within the system of ancient worship. (This
mirrors the book’s opening chapters.) Vows are to be taken with the utmost
seriousness. Exchanging (when permissible) for something that was promised
by vow can only be done upon payment of an additional one-fifth of the value of
the vowed item.
Issue #1: Understanding the Sabbatical Year of the Land
Farmers develop a special relationship with the land. The world around them
usually pushes them to squeeze as much production as possible fromtheir land,
year after year. (Nowadays this yield might be measured in bushels per acre.)
All of this encourages the farmer to take from the land. The shmitah, the land’s
sabbatical year, encourages the farmer to appreciate the land at the same time
that the land is given an opportunity to renew itself.
Just as the farmer depended on the land for sustenance, so do most of us

depend on our own work to sustain us economically. Many employers,
especially in the academic and nonprofit worlds, allow their staffs to take
sabbatical leaves. Why would institutions encourage such leaves? Are there
ways that the commercial sector could benefit from giving employees some time
off? Should we, like the ancient farmers of Israel, take periodic opportunities to
look at the world from a different perspective? Why or why not? How might a
person go about implementing such a plan? What kinds of goals, personal and
for an employer, might be part of a sabbatical leave plan?
Issue #2: Are There Limits to Charitable Generosity?
Sometimes a person can get carried away with enthusiasm for supporting a
worthwhile cause. Maimonides warns against such a scenario in the following
passage:
A person should never consecrate or devote all of his possessions. He who

does so acts contrary to the intention of the Torah, for it says “of all that he has”
(Leviticus 27: 28), not “all that he has,” as our sages made clear. Such an act is
not piety but folly, since he forfeits all his valuables and makes himself
dependent on other people, and no one will take pity upon him. Of such, and
those like him, the sages have said, “The pious fool is one of those who cause
the world to perish.” Rather, whoever wishes to expend his money in good
deeds, should disburse no more than one-fifth, in order that he might be, as the
prophets have advised, “one that orders his affairs righteously” (Psalms 112:5),
be it in matters of Torah or in the business of the world. Even in respect to the
sacrifices which a person is obligated to offer, the Torah is sparing of his money,
for it says that he may bring an offering in accordance with his means. All the
more so in respect to those things for which he is not liable except in
consequence of his own vow, should he vow only what is within his means, for
the Torah says, “Every man shall give as he is able, according to the blessing of
the Lord your God, which he has given you” (Deuteronomy 16:17). (Mishne
Torah, Book Six, 8:13)
What else could a person do to support a worthwhile cause, besides utterly

impoverishing himself? In a day when many people have assets which are more
than adequate for personal needs (indeed some people have assets as great as
some countries!), does Maimonides’ advice still ring true? Might there be a way
to reinterpret his directives to prevent poverty when there is little chance of
impoverishing a person who gives up 20% of his assets?
PARASHAT BAMIDBAR
May 19, 2007 – 2 Sivan 5767
Annual: Numbers 1:1 – 4:20 (Etz Hayim, p. 769; Hertz p. 568)

Triennial: Numbers 3:14 – 4:20 (Etz Hayim, p. 779; Hertz p.576)
Haftarah: Hosea 2:1 – 22 (Etz Hayim, p. 787; Hertz p. 582)
God directs Moses and Aaron to take a census of the male Israelites of military
age, 20 years old and older. The census, which yields population figures for
each tribe, totals 603,550. The Levites are to be counted separately, for a
nonmilitary purpose.
Chapter 2 focuses on the organization, order, and physical layout of the

Israelites’ camp, and of their travels in the desert.
Chapter 3 deals with the substitution of the tribe of Levi for the first-borns of all
the tribes in the role of religious functionaries.
In Chapter 4, a census of the Levites is undertaken, clan by clan, in order to

verify the manpower needed to perform the Levites’ various tasks during the
period of wilderness wandering. The specific tasks assigned to the Kohathite
clan are specified in the closing verses of our parashah, while the tasks of two
other clans within the tribe of Levi are spelled out in the opening verses of next
week’s Parashat Naso.
Topic #1: Creating a Hospitable Environment for Religion
This week’s parashah contains no long-term mitzvot, no commandments

intended to endure beyond the wilderness generation. This may not be very
surprising, because most people assume the wilderness/desert to be
Godforsaken. On the other hand, the religious patterns of the Israelites were
only partially formed, and this desert period was an opportunity for the collective
religious identity of the Israelites to take shape. The desert experience was
never intended to delay the religious growth of the people; to the contrary, it
was a unique religious opportunity. The revelation at Mount Sinai was an
important beginning, but a people will not be molded by a single momentary
experience, no matter how lofty, without ongoing follow-up.
Until their experience at Mount Sinai, the Israelites had looked to God more for
emancipation than for religious direction. Once they had received the Ten
Commandments, they began to understand that life after Pharaoh would require
them to take some responsibility. The construction of the Mishkan (portable
sanctuary) supplies one focal point for religious expression. Further
commandments were then given, fleshing out the details of a system whose
headlines were the Ten Commandments. Indeed, in this week before Shavuot,
we may view Passover as a symbol of emancipation, while Shavuot, the
anniversary of the revelation at Mount Sinai, symbolizes a commitment to
discerning God’s will and acting upon it.
Chapter 2 describes the pattern in which the Israelites encamped in the desert.
This was also the pattern in which they traveled. One reason for this
configuration was the need to provide for defending the camp against attackers.
(The encounter with Amalek, narrated in Exodus 17:8-13 and Deuteronomy
25:17-18, makes it quite clear what can happen when defense is relegated to a
back burner.) The order of march served a purpose beyond national defense.
There was a positive religious motivation reflected in the format of the
encampment. How did the pattern of the camp hope to reinforce the religious
commitment that was intended to be a focal point for the people of Israel?
Within our modern synagogues, what design features are intended to draw our
attention to important aspects of our commitment to Judaism? When something
is said to be central to our lives, how do we demonstrate that? As we think
about synagogue design, how does the footprint, program and order of the
building reflect our stated values? If our young people are important to us, does
the building reflect that commitment? Could a newcomer determine the
congregation’s values by the way the building is designed and maintained?
Topic #2: The Hazardous Work of Transporting the Mishkan
We have already established that the ritual work of the Mishkan was potentially
hazardous for the Kohanim (see Leviticus 10:1-2). The Levites were also at risk,
particularly during the desert years, because they were charged with the
responsibility of transporting the Mishkan and its sacred contents. The dire
consequences of touching the Ark are clearly illustrated in the following incident,
drawn from the time of King David (obviously post-desert):
They loaded the Ark of God into a new cart and conveyed it from the home of
Avinadav which was on the hill; and Avinadav’s sons, Uzzah and Ahio, guided
the new cart. They conveyed it from Avinadav’s house on the hill, [Uzzah
walking] alongside the Ark of God and Ahio walking in front of the Ark…. But
when they came to the threshing-floor of Nacon, Uzzah reached out for the Ark
of God and grasped it, for the oxen had stumbled. The Lord was incensed at
Uzzah. And God struck him down on the spot for his indiscretion, and he died
there beside the Ark of God. (II Samuel 6:3-7)
In light of these hazards, the tasks and responsibilities for work in these sacred
areas had to be delineated clearly. Chapter 4 of Numbers provides just such a
delineation.
a. What tasks were assigned to the Kohathites (4:1-20)? What tasks did the
Kohanim have to complete before the Kohathites could do their job?
b. What tasks were assigned to the Gershonites (4:21-28)?
c. What tasks were assigned to the Merarites (4:29-33)?
What would make a person be willing to take on such potentially dangerous
duty? Are there still times today when the status or importance of a position
makes the risks worthwhile?
PARASHAT NASO
May 26, 2007 – 9 Sivan 5767

Triennial: Numbers 7:1 – 7:89 (Etz Hayim, p. 805; Hertz p. 596)
Haftarah: Judges 13:2 – 25 (Etz Hayim, p. 813; Hertz p. 602)
This week’s Torah-portion begins with a census of the Levites; it is a logical

continuation of the census recounted in last week’s parashah. Next we
encounter a short list of ritually impure people who must take up residence
outside the Israelites’ encampment. This list is followed by the laws of theft and
restitution.
In a passage particularly foreign to 21st- century readers, we encounter a series

of rules delineating a procedure for dealing with suspected marital infidelity.
Chapter 6 outlines laws pertaining to a nazir, a person who has taken a vow to
accept extra restrictions upon himself, including abstinence from alcoholic
beverages, refraining from shaving or cutting his hair, and other extra
restrictions in the area of ritual purity. Although the Torah, despite its general
aversion to asceticism, accepts such a framework, it requires the nazir to bring
a sin-offering at the conclusion of the term of his vow. This concludes with the
ancient and meticulously-formulated Birkat Kohanim, the priestly blessing,
which was to be recited by the Kohanim as conveyors of God’s blessings to the
Jewish people.
Chapter 7 describes the offerings that were brought by the n’si’im (chieftains) of
the 12 tribes in conjunction with the dedication of the Mishkan (wilderness
tabernacle).
Topic #1: The Framework of the Chieftains' Offerings
Each of the n’si’im (chieftains) of the 12 tribes brought an identical offering as

the Mishkan was initiated. The offering brought by each tribal leader was:
one silver bowl weighing 130 shekels and one silver basin of 70 shekels by the
sanctuary weight, both filled with choice oil mixed in, for a meal offering; one
gold ladle of 10 shekels, filled with incense; one bull of the herd, one ram, and
one lamb in its first year, for a burnt offering; one goat for a sin offering; and for
his sacrifice of well-being: two oxen, five rams, five he-goats, and five yearling
lambs.
Note that the shekel originally was a measure of weight. Eventually, when the
minting of coins became routine, the word “shekel” came to refer to a particular
value of coin, corresponding to a value of precious metal that formerly would
have been weighed.
Each tribal leader had his own day, designated in sequence, for bringing his
offering. It is not entirely clear whether the primary function of these offerings
was to give each tribe the opportunity to endorse the centralized national
sanctuary, or whether this simply was an administrative procedure for sharing
the responsibility to stock the Mishkan with material to sacrifice and with
appropriate utensils. Based on your reading of Chapter 7, which function do you
think was the primary motivation for these offerings?
Each tribe brought exactly the same items for the ceremony. One of the
challenges we confront today is adding a personal face on what is, so often, just
another identical item. Is there a lesson we can learn from the way the
ceremony of inauguration was established?
Topic #2: The Chronology of the Chieftains' Offerings
A second topic that is treated in the text of Chapter 7 as if it were self-evident is

the timing of these offerings on the calendar. Were the offerings brought on 12
consecutive days, or were there breaks within the pattern (e.g. for Shabbat)?
We know that there was a seven-day initiation ritual for the Kohanim and for the
new sanctuary. The date of the completion of the Mishkan is specifically listed
as the first of Nisan (see Exodus 40:17). Are we to believe that the chieftains of
the tribes brought their offerings on 12 consecutive days, beginning on the
eighth of Nisan and concluding on the nineteenth (which we know as the fifth
day of Passover)?
Professor Jacob Milgrom deals with these questions in meticulous detail. After
sharing Talmudic sources that suggest that the initiation may have started a
week earlier than we might have supposed, Milgrom makes the case for a
different, less literal, understanding of the calendar dates mentioned. He further
suggests that the offerings of the n’si’im were not used on the very day they
were brought. Referring to Numbers 7:87-88, he notes:
In fact, that the animals are summed up at the end of this Tabernacle document
can only mean that they were not sacrificed the very day they were contributed
but were transferred (like the silver and gold vessels) to the charge of the
sanctuary priests to be offered up … whenever needed. (The JPS Torah
Commentary: Numbers (Excursus 14))
Milgrom also addresses another problem: that of potential spoilage:
However, the theory that the chieftains’ sacrificial donations were not offered up
on the day of their contribution runs into the difficulty that the choice flour they
brought was mixed with oil; since, ostensibly, it would quickly spoil, this sacrifice
could not have been delayed. This objection was tested. Since the relative
proportions of oil to flour are given (Num. 15:1-10), it became possible for my
doctoral student, Susan Rattray, to make up a batch and test its durability. Her
sample was made on April 13, 1982. It was sealed in an ordinary plastic
container, placed in a cupboard, and never refrigerated. As of the date of this
writing, October 15, 1985 – three and a half years later – it is perfectly edible,
with no trace of spoilage.
Let us assume that the sacrifices were not offered immediately, but were
queued up for later use. Is there a lesson for us in how we budget in our
congregations? Should this be a mandate towards establishing funds to
maintain the congregation through savings and endowments?
PARASHAT B’HA’LOTEKHA
June 2, 2007 – 16 Sivan 5767

Haftarah: Zekhariah 2:14 – 4:7 (Etz Hayim, p. 837; Hertz p. 620)
As our parashah opens, Aaron is commanded about the placement of the

seven-branched menorah in the sanctuary. The balance of Chapter 8 is devoted
to the purification of the Levites and their initiation into serving in and around the
sanctuary.
The Israelites are told that each year, on the anniversary of the first Passover,
they are to bring a sacrifice similar to the one brought in Egypt. A question
arises about people who find themselves ritually impure – for example, from
touching a corpse – and therefore precluded from participation in the ritual of
this sacrifice; an alternate procedure for them is outlined.
The Israelites in the desert are to be guided in their travels by a cloud by day;
by night a pillar of fire will hover above their encampment. An auditory system
for communicating with large numbers of people using trumpets is developed.
We read an example of the Israelites’ travel in concert with the cloud. The
sanctuary and the ark are always at the center of the camp, whether the
Israelites are traveling or at rest. Of special interest are verses 10:35-36, to be
proclaimed when the ark was transported. These verses have become a regular
part of our liturgy in the Torah processions before and after we read from the
Torah.
The Israelites complain about the monotony of their diet of manna; they want
meat, and Moses is bitterly disturbed by their constant complaining. God asks
Moses to gather 70 elders from among the people, who can help Moses
shoulder the load of leadership. These 70 people are endowed with a measure
of the divine spirit.
Miriam and Aaron slander Moses in private and a divine punishment ensues.
This episode is explored in further detail in Topic #2 below.
Topic #1: Access to the Divine
When Moses found the burdens of solitary leadership difficult to bear, God
directed him to gather 70 elders from among the Israelites. These people had a
divine experience of some kind, at a location slightly removed from the people
at large. However, two of them, Eldad and Medad, had such a contact in close
proximity to the people.
Moses was asked about this seemingly scandalous behavior. (Ecstatic religious
experience was not expected to take place in the midst of the camp. Moreover,
some perceived that this behavior implied that Moses was not uniquely qualified
to relate to God in special ways.) Moses responded calmly:
Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, that the Lord put His spirit upon
them! (Numbers 11:29)
The Talmud (Sanhedrin 17a) says that Eldad and Medad were allowed the gift
of prophecy because of their modesty. “‘We are not worthy of such greatness.’
God responds, ‘Because of your humility, I shall increase your greatness.’”
In what ways should religious experience be reserved for the select few? In
what ways should intensive religious experience be available to all? Are there
any prerequisites that might reasonably need to be fulfilled before people can
expect to participate in peak religious experiences? Are there qualifications
necessary for someone to become a prophet?
In this day of websites and instant video, should we be more leery of people
who claim to be prophets? Should a high level of modesty be a requirement of
prophecy?
Topic #2: An Incident of Slander
The incident of Miriam and Aaron slandering Moses (12:1-16) is as complex as

it is troubling. Although the Torah does not say exactly what was said or the
exact nature of the slander (and should we really be so curious to repeat its
substance?), nonetheless it is clear that the Torah is not prepared to gloss over
this incident. Although the personal dimension of their slander is not clear to us,
we do know that Aaron and Miriam were upset that Moses, their younger
brother, became known as an outstanding prophet, while they seem barely to
merit a footnote.
They said: “Has the Lord spoken only through Moses? Has He not spoken
through us as well?” (Numbers 12:2)
(Note the contrast with Moses’ position on widespread prophesy, quoted in

Topic #1 above.) God then addresses Aaron and Miriam directly, making it
abundantly clear that his relationship with Moses is far more extensive than
anything that they had ever experienced themselves.
The divinely administered punishment for slander was understood to be tzara’at,

a skin disease. (Although tzara’at is often translated as leprosy, many scholars
today think that a different skin disease is involved.) In the midst of other crises
that had befallen the priesthood, it might have been a crushing blow to the
institution if Aaron, the high priest, had been stricken with such a disease. While
Miriam indeed was stricken, it appears that Aaron’s punishment was that he had
to stand by ineffectually and watch his older sister’s suffering. Could it be that
with a touch of irony, it was Moses’ concise prayer that brought healing for
Miriam, not any action or words by the high priest?
We tend to look at the Torah as a series of self-contained weekly readings. But
if we view a larger slice of text, we realize that Chapter 12 (the incident of
slander discussed here) is followed immediately by Chapter 13 (which involves
the slandering of the Promised Land by 10 of the 12 scouts / spies). We are
tempted to ask: Did anyone learn a lesson in Chapter 12? If so, how could the
events of Chapter 13 have taken place? (Hint: how might the scouts have
rationalized to allow themselves to believe that their slander against the
Promised Land bore no resemblance to the slander against Moses?)
PARASHAT SHELAH-LEKHA - BIRKAT
HAHODESH
June 9, 2007 – 23 Sivan 5766

Haftarah: Joshua 2:1 – 24 (Etz Hayim, p. 857; Hertz p. 635)
Moses sends scouts to look at the Promised Land on behalf of the Israelites.
Twelve scouts are sent, one from each tribe. (It seems the confederation of
tribes had not yet been sufficiently firmed up, so each tribe needed its own
representative.) The scouts spend 40 days checking things out, and then they
return with a less-than-unanimous evaluation. While the land was
acknowledged to be flowing with milk and honey (13:27), and the scouts
brought back fine examples of its produce, 10 of the 12 scouts are pessimistic
about the feasibility of conquering it. Out of the 12 scouts, only Joshua and
Caleb assert that the task of conquering the land surely could be accomplished.
The people hear the executive summary and note that 10 scouts were reporting
negatively, while only two were reporting positively. (How often do we count
heads, without examining the substance of the case that has been put forth?)
The people react to the scouts’ reports by rebelling openly against the
leadership of Moses and Aaron. By implication, they are also questioning the
value of their allegiance to God. Joshua and Caleb are quick to grasp this
implication (14:8-9).
God takes note of the disloyal spirit among the Israelites, including their
complaint (14:3) that women and children were being placed at risk. He
responds by decreeing that all of this rebellious generation except Joshua and
Caleb will be excluded from the Promised Land, while their children -- whom
they had said were being placed at risk (14:31) – would inherit the land. Briefly
put, the Israelites would wander in the desert for 40 years, corresponding to the
40 days of the scouts’ exploration of the Promised Land 14:34).
Failing to grasp the significance of the withdrawal of God’s supporting Presence

from their midst, the next morning a group of Israelites seeks to sally forth to
take immediate possession of the Promised Land. Moses warns them that
without divine support such a campaign was doomed to failure. When the group
persists in their plan, they are roundly defeated (14:40-45).
The balance of our parashah deals with a variety of topics. First, we are given
some laws about the sacrifices to be observed when the Israelites finally take
possession of the Promised Land. Included in this section is the practice of
setting aside a portion of the dough used for baking bread for the kohen. There
is also a discussion of sacrifices for atonement, both communal and individual.
Next, an incident of Sabbath desecration is recounted, along with the
punishment meted out for this offense. Finally, in 15:37-41, we read the
commandment to tie fringes on the corners of our four-cornered garments. (This
passage is familiar to us because it is also used as the third paragraph of the
Sh’ma.)
Topic #1: Slandering the Promised Land
The 10 scouts’ negative reports include some positive comments, highlights that
acknowledge the land’s beauty and its desirability. The clear drift of their
remarks, however, was that the goal of taking possession of the land was
unattainable. Upon hearing this report, most Israelites were disheartened.
Whether or not the 10 scouts intended to undermine the people’s resolve, the
result of their report was to harm the Israelites’ determination to take
possession of the Promised Land. It is possible to argue that in slandering the
Promised Land, they were slandering the promise, and even the Source of the
promise.
Before we can form an opinion on this issue, we must examine the scouts’
mandate. Moses assigns tasks to the scouts in the following passage:
When Moses sent them to scout the land of Canaan, he said to them: “Go up
there into the Negev and on into the hill country, and see what kind of country it
is. Are the people who dwell in it strong or weak, few or many? Is the country in
which they dwell good or bad? Are the towns they live in open or fortified? Is the
soil rich or poor? Is it wooded or not? And take pains to bring back some of the
fruit of the land.” (Numbers 13:17-20)
What were the elements of the mission that Moses assigned to the scouts?
Compare the scouts’ report to their original mission as Moses outlined it. In
what ways did the scouts exceed their mission? In what ways did they fall short
of fulfilling their mission?
Topic #2: Verses of Forgiveness
Several verses from this week’s Torah-reading are classic passages that have
found their way into our communal prayers. Both of the following passages
have become part of our liturgy for the High Holy Days.
14:19-20 - [Moses said,] “Pardon, I pray, the iniquity of this people according to
Your great kindness, as You have forgiven this people ever since Egypt.” And
the Lord said, “I pardon, as You have asked.”
15:26 - The whole Israelite community and the stranger residing among them
shall be forgiven, for it happened to the entire people through error.
Jewish liturgy often seeks to cite models of divine forgiveness from the Torah as
a vehicle for obtaining divine forgiveness, especially on a communal level, in
later times. Why not simply ask to be pardoned based on the depth of our own
sincerity? Does citing a biblical passage enhance the effectiveness of our plea?
How (and why) did the framers of our liturgy think this works?
PARASHAT KORAH - ROSH HODESH TAMMUZ
June 16, 2007 – 30 Sivan 5767

Haftarah: Isaiah 66:1 – 24, 66:23 (Etz Hayim, p. 1219; Hertz p. 944)
Korah, a cousin of Moses, challenged Moses’ and Aaron’s authority to lead the
Israelites. Gathering around himself a growing group of followers, he sounds a
populist theme aimed at placing himself and his followers in top leadership
positions.
Moses proposes a test in which Korah and his followers would offer incense to
God in their own firepans, while Moses and Aaron would do the same. In the
midst of this challenge, the earth swallows up Korah, his followers, and all their
households. A fire then consumes 250 Levites who had supported Korah.
Korah’s fire pan, along with those of his followers, were still in the sanctuary.
Although their incense had not been accepted by God, these pans still had
been sanctified, so they could not simply be discarded. A creative solution was
found to this problem.
Further murmurings against Moses and Aaron triggered a plague among the
people.
In a second test, involving Aaron and the leaders of the other tribes, Aaron’s
wooden staff sprouts and the others do not. This confirms the divine selection of
the tribe of Levi.
The final chapter of our parashah deals with the manner in which the Levites
and the Kohanim were to be compensated for their ritual services. Tithes and
other gifts were to serve as the source of sustenance for these religious
functionaries.
Topic #1: Were Aaron and Miriam Prophets?
In our Torah reading two weeks ago, Miriam and Aaron grumbled about Moses:
Has the Lord spoken only through Moses? Has He not spoken through us as
well? (Numbers 12:2)
While this controversy was likely fueled by jealousy and sibling rivalry, neither
Miriam nor Aaron could have credibly put forth such a claim without there being
at least a grain of truth. While we do not wish to venture into the philosophical
quicksand of debating what exactly constitutes prophecy, we remain on firm
ground if we accept the Torah’s nomenclature at face value.
We can state with confidence that Miriam was gifted with prophecy, because,
according to the Torah, after the Israelites safely crossed the Sea of Reeds,
Then Miriam the prophetess, Aaron’s sister, took a timbrel in her hand, and all
the women went out after her in dance with timbrels. (Exodus 15:20)
Although Aaron is not specifically labeled a prophet, he is the recipient of divine

communication on several occasions.
a. After the death of Aaron’s two eldest sons, Nadav and Avihu, God
addresses Aaron directly, warning about priests’ use of wine and other
intoxicants (Leviticus 10: 8-11).
b. In this week’s parashah, God speaks directly to Aaron three times in the
aftermath of the rebellion of Korah, in verses 1, 8, and 20. It appears that
God is vindicating Aaron as a spiritual leader by addressing him directly.
Although these interactions with Aaron are characterized by the downloading of

instructions, rather than spiritual or theological visions, it is clear from the Torah
text that Aaron too experienced a personal taste of God’s word. This is a far cry
from Korah, the cousin of Miriam, Aaron, and Moses, who never was reported
to have received any divine communication, but who wished to replace Moses
and Aaron as the spiritual and political leader of the Israelites.
What effect would direct contact with God have on a person’s ability to be a
leader of the Israelites?
Today we do not give credence to a person who claims to be a prophet. The

Talmud, however, does speak about prophets and prophecy:
Rab Judah said in Rab's name: Whoever is boastful, if he is a Sage, his wisdom
departs from him; if he is a prophet, his prophecy departs from him. [Pesachim
66b]
Since the day when the Temple was destroyed, prophecy has been taken from
the prophets and given to the wise. [Bava Batra 12a]
What do these observations tell us about how the rabbis felt about prophets and
prophecy? What leadership qualities do we find are necessary in a prophet?
Topic #2: How (and Why) are Religious Functionaries Paid?
In our parashah and elsewhere, the Torah outlines that compensation and
perquisites that routinely were due to the Levites in general, and especially to
the Kohanim, Aaron’s descendants, in particular. While the members of all other
tribes were to be given extensive areas to farm within the Promised Land, the
tribe of Levi was to be scattered among the other tribes and given minimal land
to live on. And, as we have noted earlier in the book of Numbers, their work in
the sanctuary involved some serious hazards. In the post-desert years, after the
Promised Land had been settled, it appears that the Levites served a pedagogic
function among the tribes, as well as assisting the Kohanim in the Temple
service. This dual role is celebrated in Moses’ parting words about the tribe of
Levi:
They shall teach Your norms to Jacob

And Your instructions to Israel,
They shall offer You incense to savor
And whole-offerings upon Your altar. (Deuteronomy 33:10)
In the centuries following the destruction of the second Temple, Torah scholars
assumed the spiritual leadership of the Jewish people. They were reluctant to
accept payment for teaching Jews about Judaism. In fact, many of the rabbis in
the Talmud supported themselves through “regular” jobs, such as shoemaker,
woodcutter, or farmer. The advantage of such a system was that these rabbis
experienced many of the same fiscal ups and downs that anyone else might
experience, and thus might have been well-suited to understanding the
concerns of the people. The disadvantage was that their time as teachers and
as scholars was used inefficiently, which was advantageous neither to them nor
to the community.
Eventually, the idea that a rabbi should be compensated for the time that he
would have spent on secular, revenue-producing activity, but instead spent
contributing to the spiritual growth of the Jewish community was born. In this
way, the community began to fund its own spiritual human resources.
PARASHAT HUKKAT
June 23, 2007 – 7 Tammuz 5767
Annual: Numbers: 19:1 – 22:1 (Etz Hayim, p. 880; Hertz p. 652)

Triennial: Numbers: 20:22 – 22:1 (Etz Hayim, p. 887; Hertz p. 658)
Haftarah: Judges: 11:1 – 33 (Etz Hayim, p. 910; Hertz p. 664)
Chapter 19 is devoted to the ritual of the red heifer, a purification rite for people
who have come into contact with a corpse. It should be noted that a
preoccupation with the dead was an ever-present part not only of ancient
Egyptian theology but also of daily life in ancient Egypt. The ritual presented in
this parashah appears to be designed to distance people from excessive
involvement with the dead.
The first half of Chapter 20 deals with the incident of Moses striking the rock,
and the consequences of this action. (The nature of Moses’ and Aaron’s
infraction is explored below.) In the second half of the chapter, the Israelites
seek permission to pass peacefully through the territory of Edom on their way to
the Promised Land. When Edom denies them that permission the Israelites are
constrained to lengthen their journey, because the Edomites were descendants
of Jacob’s brother Esau and they are reluctant to become embroiled in a
dispute with a relative.
Chapter 20 concludes with the death of Aaron.
Chapter 21 opens with a brief skirmish with the Canaanites, and then tells us of
a plague of poisonous snakes (see below). Next come encounters with the
peoples on the eastern side of the Jordan, including a successful military
conquest and some ancient poetic passages.
The parashah concludes with the Israelites encamped on the plains of Moab,
across the Jordan from Jericho.
Topic #1: Moses and Aaron Were Mere Human Beings
The source for the well-known story of Moses and Aaron striking the rock lies
within our parashah (20:1-13). As a result of their behavior in this crisis, God
denies these two leaders the opportunity to enter the Promised Land.
There are several theories seeking to explain why Moses’ and Aaron’s behavior
in this matter was judged so harshly. Three leading theories, in a nutshell, are
as follows:
a. Rashi (1040-1105) - They sinned in striking the rock, rather than

speaking to it as they had been commanded.
b. Maimonides (RaMBaM, 1135-1204) - Moses’ whole sin lay in erring on
the side of anger and deviating from the mean of patience when he used
the expression, “Hear now, you rebels.” God then censured him for this,
that a man of his stature should give vent to anger when anger was not
called for.
c. Nachmanides (RaMBaN, 1194-1270) - Cites Rabbeinu Hanan’el, who
suggested that Moses made the critical mistake of saying “Shall we bring
forth water?” instead of “Shall God bring forth water?” The people might
have been misled into thinking that Moses and Aaron had extracted
water for them by their own skills. Thus they failed “to sanctify Me in the
midst of the people.”
Each of these theories takes Moses’ and Aaron’s actions, as narrated in

Chapter 20, into account, along with the divine rebuke in the same chapter that
alludes to the reasoning for denying them admission to the Promised Land.
What was the most critical part of their mission, shepherding the people in
safety or promoting belief in God? Was their responsibility to fulfill the goal or to
follow each detail fully?
Regardless of your own assessment of the harshness of the decree, which of

these theories do you think best accounts for the divine disapproval of Moses’
and Aaron’s actions? Do you prefer another theory altogether?
Topic #2: The Copper Serpent
a. Following a round of grumbling by the Israelites, an infestation of

seraphim (poisonous snakes) afflicted the people. In the words of our
parashah (21:6-9):
They bit the people and many of the Israelites died. The people came to
Moses and said, “We sinned by speaking against the Lord and against
you.
Intercede with the Lord to take away the serpents from us!” And Moses
interceded for the people.
Then the Lord said to Moses, “Make a seraph figure and mount it on a
standard. And if anyone who is bitten looks at it, he shall recover.” Moses
made a copper serpent and mounted it on a standard; and when anyone
was bitten by a serpent, he would look at the copper serpent and recover.
What is troubling about this solution to the snake problem?
b. The copper snake mentioned above evidently was preserved, so that

later generations could learn of the miraculous cure effected in the desert.
Centuries later, King Hezekiah had to deal with a different problem
relating to that very same copper snake.
He also broke into pieces the bronze serpent which Moses had made, for
until that time the Israelites had been offering sacrifices to it; it was called
Nehushtan. (II Kings 18:4)
How had Moses’ original purpose in fashioning the serpent been

perverted?
c. The potential for a symbol to be misused is a hazard of religious life. Can

you think of any religious symbols that are misused today? Are there any
ways that we can safeguard symbols so that they will be less likely to be
misused?
d. The rabbis of the Mishnaic period were concerned about the apparent
voodoo surrounding Moses’ copper serpent, as narrated in our parashah.
They voiced their concern in a straightforward question, for which they
proposed a novel answer:
Can a [copper] snake cause someone to die or to live?
Rather [we can learn from this incident that] whenever the Israelites look
upwards and subjugate their hearts to their heavenly Father, they are
healed; otherwise, they pine away. (Mishnah, Rosh HaShanah 3:8)
How did the rabbis of the Mishnah understand the purpose of the copper
snake?
Are there times now when people confuse a symbol with what the
symbol represents?
PARASHAT BALAK
June 30, 2007 – 14 Tammuz 5767
Annual: Numbers: 22:2 – 25:9 (Etz Hayim, p. 880; Hertz p. 652)

Triennial: Numbers: 22:39 – 25:9 (Etz Hayim, p. 899; Hertz p. 673)
Haftarah: Micah: 5:6 – 6:8 (Etz Hayim, p. 915; Hertz p. 682)
This week’s Parashah is named for Balak, king of Moab. Balak hires Bil’am
(also known in English as Balaam), a gentile prophet, to curse the Israelites,
hoping to weaken them and thereby mitigate the potential threat they pose as
they travel en masse close to the border of Moab. Balak evidently wishes to hire
the best available prophet in order to counteract the strength of Moses, whose
skill as a prophet seemed to play a key role in the recent successes of these
former slaves.
Bil’am initially is reluctant to accept Balak’s invitation. Balak takes this

reluctance as a bargaining tactic and so tries to enhance the job’s prestige, as
well as its remuneration. Bil’am finally accepts, subject to the stipulation that he
will only utter the words that God puts in his mouth.
On his way to perform the agreed-upon task, Bil’am finds himself in a position
where he is less perceptive than his donkey. Not only that, but his donkey
remarkably develops the power of clear verbal expression. It can talk. The
exchange between Bil’am and his donkey, told in exquisite detail, leaves us
wondering which of these two characters is indeed the ass in this story.
Bil’am meets with Balak, and sets out to perform his appointed task. To Balak’s
chagrin, Bil’am repeatedly prophesies in a way that compliments the Israelites
and celebrates their collective strengths. Bil’am departs, but not before
articulating further prophesies that Balak did not want to hear.
After this high drama, the parashah ends on a low note, retelling a lapse in the
Israelites’ behavior.
Topic #1: The Strengths of Israel
As Bil’am looked up, and he saw Israel camped tribe by tribe, the spirit of God
came upon him. (Numbers 24:2)
This verse is followed by poetic prophecy from Bil’am. Clearly the visual image
that greeted Bil’am’s eye was a stimulus to the content of this prophecy. What
could Bil’am have seen that left him no choice but to praise the Israelites? If we
wish to identify the stimulus, we could begin by looking at the poetry that
resulted from this inspiration. Our focus will be upon the well-known verse:
How fair are your tents, O Jacob,
Your dwellings, O Israel. (Numbers 24:5)
One tradition draws conclusions from this verse about religious institutions and
communal norms.
a. Religious institutions - In the Hertz commentary on the Pentateuch

(p.678), we see “tents” interpreted to mean “tents of Torah,” or
schoolhouses, while “dwellings” are equated with synagogues. Following
a long line of interpreters and translators, Hertz underscores that our
religious institutions have contributed to our people’s staying power.
These institutions, Hertz concludes in a microsermon, always have been
the source and spirit of Israel’s strength.
b. Communal norms: modesty, privacy - Another source views the tents
and dwellings as a reference to the Israelites’ domestic arrangements.
Their respect for the privacy of others, and their modesty in maintaining
their own privacy, may have differentiated the Israelites from other
ancient peoples. Many centuries later, the Talmud referred back to the
precedent ascribed to the ancient Israelites. In legislating building codes,
the Mishnah dictates:
One may not build, in a courtyard, a door directly opposite the door of a
neighbor, or install a window in line with a neighbor’s window.
In a discussion of that instruction, we read:
Rabbi Yohanan said: Since a Scriptural verse says, “Bil’am looked up,
and he saw Israel camped tribe by tribe.” What did he see? He noticed
that the openings of their tents were not directed toward each other. He
said: these people are worthy that the Divine Presence should dwell
upon them. (Talmud: Bava Batra 60a)
Bil’am recognized that a society that prizes modesty, privacy, and mutual
respect is one that God may grace with divine favor.
Which of the two interpretations above do you find more appealing?
Is holiness properly centered in the synagogue, or in the home? Does our

tradition make that differentiation? Is there room for both approaches?
Is there a lesson in this rabbinic interpretation which could be applied in ways to

design and build dwellings and offices?
Topic #2: The Weakness of Israel
After the story of Bil’am’s prophecy about the destiny of the people Israel, in
chapter 25 we read a sordid tale of the Israelites’ involvement in cultic
prostitution with Moabite and/or Midianite women. This impulsive and
irresponsible behavior represents a serious departure from the standards of
behavior for which the Israelites just have been praised. Logic dictates that
Israel must somehow have been lured into this behavior.
Who might have hatched such a plan for corrupting the Israelites? If Bil’am was
the one who had recognized Israel’s strength of character, it is possible that in
his frustration at having been unable to pin an effective verbal curse upon them
he sought to undermine the very strength that he had identified in the Israelites.
A verse in next week’s Torah reading, in Numbers 31:16, points to such
involvement on Bil’am’s part. It is a sad irony that the very area in which the
Israelites’ behavior had been so exemplary was the focus of this attempt to
undo the people Israel.
This episode suggests some interesting questions about the strengths and
weaknesses of the Jewish people today. Understanding the difficulty in
stereotyping, consider:
1. What are the positive qualities for which Jews are known today?
2. What would we like to be known for?
3. If there is a gap between our reputation and our goals, what should we
do about that disparity?
PARASHAT PINHAS
July 7, 2007 – 21 Tammuz 5767

Haftarah: Jeremiah 1:1 – 2:3 (Etz Hayim, p. 968; Hertz p. 710)
Following the incident related at the end of last week’s parashah, God
commends Pinhas and designates his descendants for divine service. To this
day, the memory of Pinhas is invoked within the liturgy recited at a brit milah,
the covenant of Jewish circumcision.
We are now near the end of the 40 years of traveling through the desert. In
anticipation of taking possession of the Promised Land, a second census is to
be taken. Evidently, the size of each tribe’s territory is to be determined by the
size of its population, while the location assigned to each tribe is to be
determined by lot. The tribe of Levi, dispersed among the other tribes, is an
exception.
A special problem is raised by the five daughters of Zelophehad, a member of

the tribe of Menasheh. Zelophehad had died without leaving any sons and his
daughters wish to inherit his portion of land. (The generally accepted practice at
that time was for sons to inherit land and for a daughter to become a part of her
husband’s tribe upon her marriage.) After Moses had an opportunity for divine
consultation, the daughters’ petition was granted. (When this caused problems
for the tribe, however, some modifications were stipulated. See Numbers,
chapter 36.)
God spells out to Moses that he will not be allowed to enter the Promised Land.
Moses raises concerns about continuity of leadership (see below), and these
concerns are addressed.
The balance of this week’s parashah is an outline of the sacrifices prescribed to

be brought daily and on special occasions.
Topic #1: Treansition of Leadership
After God tells Moses that his life is near its end, and that he will die without the
opportunity to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land, Moses responds by
expressing a concern for the continuity of leadership. He accepts the decree
that he will not personally complete the journey with the Israelites, but he needs
to know that a successor will be in place, so that the Lord’s community may not
be like sheep that have no shepherd. (27:17)
Moses’ selfless concern for the needs of his people is indeed striking. God
responds by designating Joshua as Moses’ successor. Moses is further
directed:
Invest him with some of your authority, so that the whole Israelite community
may obey. (27:20)
In turn, according to Midrash Rabbah, Moses made this request of God

regarding the appointment of a new leader:
The request which Moses made of the Holy One, blessed be He, in the hour of
his death: He says to Him: ‘Sovereign of the Universe! The mind of every
individual is revealed and known to You. The minds of Your children are not like
unto one another. Now that I am taking leave of them, appoint over them, I pray
You, a leader who shall bear with each one of them as his temperament
requires. (Numbers Rabbah XXI:2)
Did Moses have to explain this need to God? We assume not. Why then did the
midrash include this request? What does it tell us about how a leader should
lead?
In our day, we choose leaders for our congregations, schools and community
institutions. In what ways is the process outlined in the Torah reading similar to
the process of assuring continuity of spiritual leadership in our congregations?
In what ways does it differ? Have we improved upon this model? Is there
anything that we can learn from the process outlined in our parashah?
Topic #2: Are Sacrifices Barbaric?
Chapters 28 and 29 are devoted entirely to outlining the sacrifices to be brought

at the central place of worship on ordinary days and on the various holy days.
We are far removed from the sacrificial system, since there have been no
authorized animal sacrifices in Judaism for more than 19 centuries. Because we
have moved on to other forms of worship, we are tempted to dismiss the
sacrificial system as primitive. In light of the content of this week’s Torah
reading, it may be appropriate for us to attempt to understand the sacrificial
system on its own terms, without letting our twenty-first century values exercise
an automatic veto upon the religious activities of our ancestors.
Consider the following passage, written by W. Gunther Plaut, a contemporary

Reform rabbi and scholar:
What do moderns consider “primitive” about such rituals? Doubtless, the pre-
biblical origins of sacrifice go back to beliefs that the gods desired the food for
their consumption. But the Torah itself no longer gives any warrant for the
continuation of such beliefs, and Ps. 50:8 ff. expressly disavows them. Most
likely it is the public nature of the ancient slaughtering process that is repellent
to current tastes. We prefer to hide the procedure behind the walls of abattoirs
where the animals are killed in a fashion no less bloody, but without making it
necessary for the consumer to witness the life-and-death cycle which goes into
his pleasurable nourishment. Moreover, even when we share with others in the
eating process, we do not generally experience any of the genuinely worthy
emotions which were usually engendered by the sacrifices of old. In the root
meaning of the English word, we do not “sacrifice” (i.e., render holy) anything
we eat.
This does not mean that our age ought to be ready for any reconsideration of
cultic sacrifice. It does suggest that when seen in its own context the biblical
order of animal offerings was a genuine form of worship that cannot be quickly
dismissed with prejudicial contemporary judgments. (The Torah: A Modern
Commentary, p. 1218)
What did people in ancient times seek to express through the offering of a
sacrifice?
Why was it considered important that the sacrifice represent the finest quality
specimen that a person or a community had to offer?
It has been said that in our era prayer is designed to take the place of sacrifice.
Do we offer enough of ourselves, in praying, to make this happen? How might
we seek to heighten the devotional component of our prayer services?
PARASHAT MATTOT- MASEY - BIRKAT
HAHODESH
July 14, 2007 – 28 Tammuz 5767

Haftarah: Jeremiah 2:4 – 28; 3:4 (Etz Hayim, p. 973; Hertz p. 725)
The beginning of this week’s double Torah portion gives guidelines about vows
and their annulment.
The following chapter deals with an all-out war against the Midianites. Unlike
many other wars in the ancient world, this one was fought not to acquire spoils
but to remove the rather effective threat that the Midianites posed to the
religious standards to which the Israelites aspired.
In the wake of conquests made on the eastern side of the Jordan River, the
tribes of Reuben, Gad, and some of the tribe of Manasseh petition Moses for
the pasture lands in these areas. Moses, concerned that the Israelites’ unity and
morale might be undermined if these tribes settle down early, before the other
tribes had had a chance to conquer the Promised Land on the west side of the
Jordan, extracts a promise that they would not retire from their military role
before the other tribes’ lands had also been conquered.
Looking backward at the Israelites’ travels of 40 years in the desert, we are

given an itinerary of the places in which they had camped.
Looking ahead, the Israelites are warned to uproot idol-worship from the
Promised Land.
Guidelines for dividing up the Promised Land among the tribes are given.
Interspersed throughout the tribes’ lands are to be cities of Levites, surrounded
by fields. In this way, the Levites could be physically close to all the tribes. This
would tend to make it easier for the Levites to perform their religious and
educational duties.
Guidelines for the treatment of a person who commits involuntary manslaughter

are given as well. Unlike a premeditated murderer, who was subject to the
death penalty, the involuntary manslayer was to be exiled to one of six cities of
refuge that were spread throughout the land. (These cities happened to be
cities of the Levites. Perhaps some rehabilitation of the manslayer was implied.)
The manslayer was to remain in this internal exile until the death of the Kohen
Gadol, the high priest.
The book of Numbers closes with a postscript to the problem of the daughters
of Zelophehad. The members of their tribe worried that now that the daughters
could inherit land, the geographic territory of their tribe could be eroded if these
women married men from another tribe. This potential problem was resolved, to
the apparent satisfaction of all concerned.
Topic #1: How Nomadic Were Our Ancestors?
In Chapter 33, we read the itinerary of the Israelites’ wanderings. Many of us

are in the habit of thinking of the Israelites as nomads who knew no rest in their
40 years in the desert. Some of us approach this reading with as much patience
as we would bring to a dramatic reading of someone else’s travel directions
from MapQuest. Admittedly, this list of wilderness encampment locations might
not make for the most riveting chapter in the Torah. Yet there is valuable
information here, including the raw material for an illuminating perspective on
the frequency of the wanderings.
In commenting on Numbers 33:1, Rashi (1040-1105) cites an analysis of the

itinerary by an exegete ironically named Rabbi Moshe:
There are only 42 journeys here. Subtract 14 from this total, since all of these
were during the first year…. Also, subtract eight journeys that took place after
the death of Aaron … in the fortieth year. It turns out that in all the (middle) 38
years, they only journeyed 20 times.
If we have been picturing our ancestors breaking camp and moving weekly, or
even monthly, these numbers should cause us to re-evaluate this impression.
Our revised perspective would show a semi-nomadic group that may have
migrated from one oasis to the next, remaining in place (other than the first and
the last of the 40 years) for almost two years, on average, at each stop. Why,
then, would later prophets cite the wanderings in the desert as a sign of loving
devotion and growing loyalty to God on the part of the Israelites? Consider, for
example, the following passage from Jeremiah (2:2-3):
Thus said the Lord: I accounted to your favor the devotion of your youth, your
love as a bride – how you followed Me in the wilderness, in a land not sown.
Israel was holy to the Lord, the first fruits of His harvest...
What was so praiseworthy about the Israelites’ following a divinely dictated

series of journeys in the wilderness?
Hint # 1: They were not told the itinerary in advance. The Israelites were being
asked to show a great deal of trust.
Hint # 2: Even though they stayed in most locations for many months, as
outlined above, they had to be prepared to break camp and travel at a
moment’s notice. (See, for example, Numbers 9:16-23.)
Topic #2: Why is the Exile of the Involuntary Manslayer Measured by the
Lifespan of the Kohen Gadol?
It is puzzling that the Torah prescribes that a person who commits involuntary
manslaughter should be exiled to a city of refuge “until the death of the high
priest” (Numbers 35:25). The rationale for this indefinite (and seemingly
arbitrary) period of exile is elusive.
To some, it appears that the death of the Kohen Gadol somehow brings
expiation for any carelessness that may have contributed to the involuntary
manslaughter. This seemingly would imply that on a metaphysical level, the
world is out of balance until the death of either the Kohen Gadol or the
involuntary manslayer. This situation cries out for further explanation.
One viewpoint says that the Kohen Gadol, as a spiritual leader, is responsible
for any damaging acts that occur on his watch. Another perspective sees the
death of a beloved national spiritual leader as a calamity felt so deeply by all
Israelites that their private pain, including the pain of the person bereaved in an
accidental manslaughter pales by comparison.
A third point of view sees a certain symmetry within these guidelines: The
deliberate murderer is deliberately put to death, while the involuntary manslayer,
who took someone’s life by chance, must wait for the chance death of the
Kohen Gadol before he can gain the opportunity to rejoin his community.
(Arnold B. Ehrlich, Mikra Ki-Pheshutto, as paraphrased by Jacob Milgrom in
The JPS Commentary, Numbers, Excursus 76, page 510)
Does one of these rationales appeal to you, or can you propose a more
compelling reason why the exile of the involuntary manslayer ends with the
death of the Kohen Gadol?
PARASHAT DEVARIM - SHABBAT HAZON
July 21, 2007 – 6 Av 5767
Annual: Deuteronomy 1:1 - 3:22 (Etz Hayim, p. 981; Hertz p. 736)

Triennial: Deuteronomy 2:31 – 3:22 (Etz Hayim, p. 994; Hertz p. 746)
Haftarah: Isaiah 1:1 – 27 (Etz Hayim, p. 1000; Hertz p. 750)
With this parashah we begin the last of the books of the Torah. Moses
undertakes to give guidance to the Israelites in a series of speeches during their
fortieth year in the desert. He reviews several key events that occurred during
the desert wanderings:
a. the establishment of a judicial system.

b. the sending of scouts to check out the Promised Land.
c. the people’s complaints, upon hearing and believing the majority’s
negative report.
d. the barring of a generation from entering the Promised Land.
e. the bold, but unsuccessful, attempt to enter the Promised Land despite
this decree.
God directs Moses and the Israelites to refrain from attacking the peoples of
Ammon, Moav, and Edom. Taking a detour, the Israelites ask to pass through
the territory of the Amorites of Heshbon. Sihon, king of Heshbon, responds by
attacking them. The Israelites conquer Sihon and his kingdom, with God’s help.
God also helps them to conquer the kingdom of Og, king of Bashan. The choice
pasturelands thus conquered, which lie on the eastern side of the Jordan River,
were pre-assigned to Israelite tribes on condition that they defer settling them
until after they had helped their brethren to conquer the Promised Land itself (i.e.
the western side of the Jordan).
Moses charges Joshua, who already had been designated as his successor,
not to fear the remaining nations in the Promised Land, because God will be
with him.
Topic #1: Which Mountain is Mount Sinai?
In the opening verses of Deuteronomy, Moses shares some geographic

information that seems designed to help us to picture the time and (especially)
the place where his remarks were delivered. Although each of the place names
has a familiar ring to it, there is no question we are somewhat frustrated
because the format of the Torah scroll did not lend itself to transmitting a map
(from the days of Moses) as an appendix. However, we are aware that map-
making was, at best, in its infancy in that distant time and place.
There is a consensus among scholars about where some of the venues to

which Moses refers actually were. This is no small feat, because clues are
obscured with each military conquest and with each major event in seismology
or meteorology. An illuminating summary by Jeffrey H. Tigay may be found in
the Deuteronomy volume of the JPS Torah Commentary (Excursus 1: The
Historical Geography of Deuteronomy).
For the past century, more and more people have been wondering which
mountain is Mount Sinai (or, in the language of Deuteronomy, Horev). Curiosity
intensified in the years following the Six-Day War, when the Sinai peninsula
became accessible to Jews coming in through Israel for the first time in a
generation. While we might like to think we can review the details with certainty,
the fact is that we do not know – most likely we cannot know – exactly which
route the Israelites took when they left Egypt. Therefore, we also cannot say
with reasonable certainty which mountain is Mount Sinai.
Lack of certainty has not prevented people from claiming to know the location of
Mount Sinai. The residents of the Santa Katherina monastery are proud that
they live at Mount Sinai (or so they are convinced). Local Arabs cite a tradition
that Jabal Musa (which means Mount Moses) is the place. And scholars
continue to propound their own theories. Though theories abound, no one
knows for sure.
Why do we care where Mount Sinai is? Ideally, we would like to be able to
visualize the revelation that was pivotal to our religion in its early development.
The better we can picture the surroundings of that revelation, the closer we
might feel to our Israelite ancestors – and of course to God. But since we
cannot locate Mount Sinai, let us look over a few of the possibilities listed in
Professor Tigay’s summary.
a. Some scholars believe that the route of the exodus brought the Israelites
to the southern part of the Sinai peninsula, making Mount Musa a leading
candidate, “although there is no evidence that it was so identified any
earlier than the fourth century C.E.”
b. Those scholars who think that the exodus route led across the center of
the peninsula have their own suggestions about which mountain was
Sinai; so do those scholars who envision a northerly exodus route.
Further theories, in Tigay’s words:
a. Some deny that Mount Sinai is in the Sinai Peninsula and locate it
instead in the Negev, or even as far as Midian in northern Arabia. The
exact location of the mountain may already have been forgotten in
biblical times; apart from Elijah’s mysterious journey there (I Kings 19),
the Bible offers no indication that it was ever visited. The name Horeb …
indicating dryness, is too vague to offer any guidance.
By now it should be clear that we might never learn exactly where Mount Sinai
was. Because we are stuck with this reality, we might find it more productive to
try to gain some insight into the significance of the various possible locations.
1. Most of us have never contemplated the possibility that Mount Sinai
might not be located within the Sinai peninsula. How would a location in
Midian add another layer of connection to the biography of Moses? (Hint:
in the book of Exodus, see 2:16-21, 3:1-5, and especially 3:12. However,
18:27 mitigates against this theory.)
2. If Mount Sinai might be in the Negev, should that affect the behavior of
those who tour in the mountainous sections of the Negev? What about
those who live there?
3. For those of us who live at least 6,000 miles away from Mount Sinai –
whatever its precise location might be – why does an incident that has
been reported to us from 33 centuries ago continue to exercise an
influence in our lives? Would knowing with certainty impact our belief?
Topic #2: Rivals and Relatives
In chapters 2 and 3, the Israelites are given guidance about how to deal with the
various peoples who were in their path to the Promised Land. God restricts the
Israelites from attacking the Moabites and the Ammonites, who were
descendants of Abraham’s nephew Lot, as well as the Edomites, descendants
of Jacob’s brother Esau. They were given no such restrictions about the
Amorites and the residents of the Bashan, who were promptly and successfully
dislodged by the Israelites.
Why were the Israelites required to be so scrupulous in dealing with their by-
then-distant relatives, while they could attack non-relatives without restrictions?
Is there a lesson for us today in this requirement? If our relationships with

relatives is less than ideal, do we have an obligation to correct them? Is there a
statute of limitations for holding onto sour memories?
PARASHAT VA’ETHANAN - SHABBAT NAHAMU
July 28, 2007 – 13 Av 5767
Annual: Deuteronomy 3:23 - 7:11 (Etz Hayim, p. 1005; Hertz p. 755)

Triennial: Deuteronomy 5:1 - 7:11 (Etz Hayim, p. 1015; Hertz p. 765)
The parashah continues Moses’ review of the history of the Israelites. Speaking
on a personal note, Moses tells the people that his pleas to God that God relent
and permit him to enter the Promised Land are to no avail.
Beginning to anticipate his taking his leave of the people, Moses suggests that
they remember well their experiences in Egypt and at Horev (Sinai). He urges
them to keep in mind that these remarkable occurrences point to a single God,
who has a special relationship with Israel. Moses cautions the people to avoid
the idol-worship that is so widespread among the peoples who live in the
Promised Land. If the Israelites fail to keep their covenant with God that failure
will result in exile, although God will not abandon the people of Israel even then.
Moses recapitulates the Ten Commandments, with some minor variations from
the version found in Exodus.
The passage that we use as the opening paragraph of the Sh’ma is drawn from
this parashah. This paragraph stresses the need to love God and to remember
God’s commandments. It describes rituals whose likely purpose is to remind us
of our relationship with God and of our broader obligation to observe many
commandments. The mandate for living a life imbued with Jewish
consciousness, as well as communicating our Jewish heritage to the next
generation, is spelled out within this familiar passage.
Not only are the Israelites instructed to remember their shared experiences of
God’s protection, they also are expected to communicate to their children, at an
appropriate time, the significance of their shared history. (Several verses from
this section are quoted in the Passover seder.)
The Israelites are to avoid the religious practices of the local polytheists and to
remember that God’s relationship with Israel is not based on their impressive
population numbers, but rather on their loyalty to God’s covenant.
Topic #1: Lifelong Education
One passage contained within this week’s Torah portion is very familiar to us
because it is used in Jewish liturgy every day of the year. The opening
paragraph of the Sh’ma (Deuteronomy 6:4-9) concerns itself with keeping our
relationship with God current, and with transmitting our religion from one
generation to the next.
A medieval analysis of the 613 commandments (Sefer Ha-Hinukh, composed in
13th-century Spain) finds that this brief passage contains seven
commandments. You may wish to examine this text of the Sh’ma and to try to
identify the seven specific commandments contained within this paragraph from
the Torah. For our purposes, however, we shall focus on one particular
commandment:
You shall teach them diligently to your children. (6:7)
It is worth noting that although most parents in our age delegate the teaching of
Judaism to those who possess technical expertise, this mitzvah gives the
responsibility to parents. Here are a few points to consider about how we must
teach Judaism diligently to our children:
1. Based on this phrase from the Sh’ma, who is commanded to study

Judaism?
a. rabbis and rabbinical students?
b. religious-school teachers?
c. children under the age of 13?
d. all Kohanim?
e. all Jews?
2. Is it possible for people to pass the mitzvah of teaching on to others?
Maimonides suggests that the mitzvah of teaching “your children” falls to
professionals as well.
“It is incumbent on scholars to teach all students, even if not his child…
students are called ‘your children.’” (Hilkhot Talmud Torah 1:2)
Are we doing the right thing for ourselves or for our children by giving
others full responsibility for our children’s Jewish education? Is there a
message to children when parents are just lightly involved or uninvolved
with religious teaching?
3. A few centuries ago, a witty man counseled “Do as I say, not as I do.” Is
this position compatible with the commandment to teach transcendent
ideas diligently to your children?
4. The Midrash Sifrei (a halakhic Midrash) says “make the mitzvot the
central part of your life, not the secondary. Your discussions should focus
on them.” In what way is that a method of teaching children?
5. An elderly professor of Judaica, addressing a group of graduate students,
opened his remarks with the words “Fellow students.” The students, who
were about five decades younger than the professor, were surprised at
his seeming absent-mindedness. The professor then reminded them that
everyone in the room was a student of Jewish texts; it just so happened
that some students were older and others were younger. How can this
perspective be applied to intergenerational study (a) within the family?
(b) within the congregation?
Topic #2: Do You Mind If I Smoke?
It often happens in the modern world that changing circumstances lead different
streams of Judaism to reach differing conclusions about the boundaries of
permissible behavior. However, one area in which a remarkable unanimity has
developed among the Jewish streams is the question of smoking tobacco.
In the Conservative movement, the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards

took the lead in a 1986 responsum by the late Rabbi Seymour Siegel. Against
the backdrop of the reports (1964 and subsequent) of the United States
surgeon general, Rabbi Siegel drew guidance from a mandate in this week’s
parashah. He read the passage “For your own sake, therefore, be most careful”
(4:15) to mean “Take good care of your lives.”
Rabbi Siegel articulates the implication of this verse: Life is a gift, a privilege
given to us by the Creator.
Broadening the discussion to include other areas of risk to our health, Rabbi
Siegel makes the following points:
1. Life is precious. It is given to us as a trust. Therefore, we may not do

anything that possibly could impair our health, shorten our lives, or cause
us harm and pain.
2. As we may not do this to ourselves, so, of course, we may not do harm
to others. All human lives are precious in God’s sight.
3. The responsibility to avoid danger to ourselves or others applies even
when it is not certain that harm will ensue. We are forbidden even to take
the risk.
4. The harm is to be avoided even if the bad effects are not immediately
evident, but will show up in the long run.
A parallel effort was made about five years later by the Masorti movement, our
sister stream in Israel.
The most recent treatment of this issue is a 2006 responsum published by the
Rabbinical Council of America, an Orthodox body. For the writers of this
responsum, the guiding verse was Leviticus 18:5, as classically interpreted by
Shmuel in the Talmud (Yoma 85b): “You shall keep My laws and My rules, by
the pursuit of which man shall live” – and not die on account of them.
This responsum devotes significant attention to the question of whether nicotine

addiction is a valid excuse for continuing to smoke. (In the writers’ view, it is
not.)
Younger readers of Torah Sparks may be surprised to learn that only a few
decades ago, the polite question for a smoker to ask was, “Do you mind if I
smoke?” The only polite response (by the standards of that time) was, “Go right
ahead.” The health consciousness of our society has progressed, and Jewish
law has kept pace.
PARASHAT EKEV
August 4, 2007 – 20 Av 5767
Annual: Deuteronomy 7:12 – 11:25 (Etz Hayim, p. 1037; Hertz p. 780)

Haftarah: Isaiah 49:14 – 51:3 (Etz Hayim, p. 1056; Hertz p. 794)
As he nears the end of his stewardship, Moses continues to address the

Israelites. He cautions them that if they wish to reap the promised rewards of
divine protection and the defeat of their enemies as they take possession of the
Promised Land, they must abide by their covenantal commitment to God. If they
worship other gods, or commit other lapses as defined by the covenant, it may
lead to exile and/or destruction. It also would be a mistake to assume that
personal or national success indicates that God always will support the
Israelites, no matter how badly the nation behaves. Likewise, it would be
arrogant to deduce that Israelite success attests to our own power.
The Israelites’ behavior has made God angry many times, most notably in the
incident of the golden calf, which resulted in the destruction of the original
tablets of the Ten Commandments. After much supplication, God invited Moses
to fashion a second set of tablets. Moses reviews this slice of history and others
with an eye toward helping the Israelites to focus on their commitment to obey
the divine commandments.
Israel is to maintain a special relationship with God. The gift of the Promised
Land is contingent on Israel’s continued faithfulness under the covenant.
Topic #1: Not By Bread Alone
In this week’s Torah-portion we are told:
Man does not live on bread alone;

rather, man may live on anything the Lord decrees. (Deuteronomy 8:3)
It is well known that Judaism expects us to recite blessings before and after we
eat. The underlying rationale appears to be that we should cultivate an inner
spirit of thankfulness for the divine gifts from which we benefit. Food is deemed
to be one of those gifts to us, for our enjoyment and sustenance.
The Torah is specific about the requirement to express thanks to God after we
consume the earth’s bounty:
When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the Lord your God for the good
land which he has given you. (Deuteronomy 8:10)
This verse from our parashah is quoted within the birkat ha-mazon (grace after
meals), where it serves as a statement of purpose for this prayer. But what
blessings do we say before a meal is eaten? In the Talmud (Berakhot 48b) we
find this answer:
Our rabbis taught: Where is the saying of grace intimated in the Torah? In the
verse, And you shall eat and be satisfied and bless: this signifies the
benediction of ‘Who feeds’… ‘The Lord your God’: this signifies the benediction
of zimmun. ‘For the land’: this signifies the blessing for the land. ‘The good’: this
signifies ‘Who builds Jerusalem’; and similarly it says ‘This good mountain and
Lebanon.’ ‘Which he has given you’: this signifies the blessing of ‘Who is good
and bestows good’. This accounts for the grace after [meals]; how can we prove
that there should be a blessing before [food]? — You have an argument a
fortiori; if when one is full he says a grace, how much more so should he do so,
when he is hungry!
It is easy simply to begin a meal when you are hungry, easy to run to the water
fountain at the end of Tisha B’Av or Yom Kippur and drink before
acknowledging God’s goodness for having the drink at hand for us. With that in
mind, does the claim of the rabbis, noted above, hold water? Does it not make
more sense to observe God’s goodness when we are sated, rather than waiting
another moment when we are hungry or thirsty?
A close look at the familiar language of the ha-motzi blessing reminds us that it
makes use of a rather sweeping metaphor. We acknowledge God’s role in our
sustenance by saying that God “brings forth bread from the earth,” even though
we certainly recognize that this blessing is not literally true. This is an
abbreviated way of making two points:
1. God plays a role in growing wheat and other potentially nutritious

produce from the earth,
2. God has given to humans the wisdom and the capability to grind wheat
into flour and to execute all the further steps that enable the wheat to be
transformed into bread. These gifts, executed by humans, are
nonetheless divine gifts.
One reason why Jewish liturgy calls for us to telescope this whole thought
process into one short sentence is the awareness that a hungry person must be
given the opportunity to eat immediately. (Reflection can come later.) Can you
think of any other reasons why this blessing relies so heavily on metaphor?
What other examples of metaphor can you think of within our various prayers?
Why do prayers often make use of figures of speech, rather than simply saying
what they mean?
Topic #2: The Nature of the Promised Land
Speaking to the Israelites near the end of their 40-year trek in the desert, Moses
paints a verbal picture of the cycle of agriculture that may be anticipated in the
Promised Land. He contrasts this cycle with the norms of agriculture in Egypt:
For the land which you are about to possess is not like the land of Egypt from
which you have come. There the grain you sowed had to be watered by your
own labors, like a vegetable garden; but the land you are about to cross into
and possess, a land of hills and valleys, soaks up its water from the rains of
heaven. It is a land which the Lord your God looks after, on which the Lord your
God keeps his eye, from year’s beginning to year’s end. (Deuteronomy 11:10-
12)
By its very nature, this comment is difficult to understand. Those who were in
the desert at this time were not those who had lived in Egypt. These people had
spent most if not all of their lives being cared for by God in the desert. How
could they be expected to know the main source of water for crops in Egypt?
But clearly that generation had heard from their families about life in Egypt. In
what ways might the Israelites hope that farming would be easier in the
Promised Land?
The passage quoted above assumes that divine supervision will keep the
agricultural cycle in balance. The next passage in the Torah, Deuteronomy
11:13-21 (familiar to us as the second paragraph of the Sh’ma), contemplates
what might happen if God no longer has a reason to look out for the well-being
of the Jewish people. What behavior might cause such problems, and what
behavior might bring about harmony and longevity for the Jewish people in the
Promised Land, according to verses 13-21?
Nowadays, most people understand droughts and other disruptions in the

weather cycle differently than the viewpoint of Deuteronomy 11. What value, if
any, can we still derive from Deuteronomy 11 despite the conflicting claims of
modern meteorology? Can we look beyond the literal language of the section
and find in it a way to understand it?
PARASHAT RE’EH - BIRKAT HAHODESH
August 11, 2007 – 27 Av 5767

In this week’s Torah portion, Moses moves from words of encouragement and a
historical summary to a review of legal material, including some new
commandments.
Our parashah opens with Moses prescribing a ritual ceremony to be enacted as

the people enter the Promised Land. They are to stand on one mountain and
pronounce the blessing that God set before them; on another mountain, Eval,
they will repeat the curse. This procedure seeks to highlight the choices that we
are regularly called upon to make in our lives.
Further anticipating entry into the Promised Land, the Israelites are told to
destroy all pagan shrines and to centralize worship at a single place, which God
will choose for them. Until then the Israelites were able to eat meat only in
conjunction with a sacrifice. It was necessary, therefore, for the Torah to
designate a mechanism that would allow people living far away from the
centralized temple to eat meat. The prohibition against consuming blood is
repeated, because it applies both to animals sacrificed in the temple and to
animals that are slaughtered outside the sacrificial system to provide the
Israelites with kosher meat.
An additional warning against conforming to Canaanite religious practices

follows, as do laws concerning a false prophet, a person who entices others to
worship false gods, and a city whose residents behave badly.
Next we have a thorough review of the laws of kashrut, including the criteria that
make mammals, fish, and fowl kosher. We are prohibited from eating an animal
that has died a natural death, as well as one that has been torn apart. Finally,
we are forbidden to eat milk and meat together.
The next few sections deal with the intersection between social equity and ritual.
This is followed by rules relating to sh’mitah, the sabbatical year. In its
discussion of sh’mitah, Leviticus 25 emphasizes the return of land to its original
owners, but here the text ordains that loans should be cancelled in the seventh
year. This appears to be intended as an opportunity for destitute farmers, who
may have been weighed down by the loans they had to take out in order to
survive, to begin again with a clean slate. These laws are followed by
exhortations to be sensitive to the needs of the poor.
The concluding section of our parashah contains laws about first-born animals,
which were to be dedicated to God, as well as guidelines on how to observe the
three pilgrimage festivals.
Topic #1: Kashrut and Its Social Dimension
Many of us remember Colonel Ilan Ramon (1954-2003), the Israeli astronaut

who died along with six colleagues when the space shuttle Columbia burned up
when it re-entered earth’s atmosphere. Before the flight, Ilan Ramon knew quite
well that the privilege of his having been selected as an astronaut was a tribute
to his roots as an Israeli and as a Jew, over and above his own considerable
personal merit.
In his private life, Ilan Ramon was a secular Israeli, but he had the vision to see
beyond the boundaries of the religious/secular divide. Commenting on the
symbolic value of his mission, he said, “I thought it would be nice to represent
all kinds of Jews, including religious ones.” Accordingly he requested that on the
shuttle mission his food should be kosher. His rationale, succinctly stated: “I
think it is very, very important to preserve our historical and religious traditions.”
More about Ilan Ramon and his life can be read in many places, including here.
Ilan Ramon’s behavior raises several questions:
1. Are there times when a Jew should try to blend in? Are there times when
it is appropriate for a Jew’s actions to highlight the differences between
Jews and their neighbors?
2. Do you think that it was hypocritical for a secular Jew, who did not restrict
himself to kosher foods consistently in his personal life, to request kosher
food when serving as a representative of all Israelis and all Jews?
3. Many organizations and companies can make kosher meals available.
Should someone who normally does not keep kosher make that request?
Is there a benefit to the kosher-observant community in his or her doing
so?
4. We have virtually no information about why NASA (the National
Aeronautics and Space Administration, which oversees the space
shuttle) decided to grant Ilan Ramon’s request for kosher food. What do
you suppose NASA managers said and thought as they discussed the
request?
Topic #2: In Search of a Safety Net
The Torah prescribes measures to prevent the development of a permanent

underclass within society. Debts are to be cancelled every seventh year. We do
not know, historically speaking, how scrupulously this commandment was
observed. However, we do have some narrative evidence of at least one
instance of adherence to this principle.
In the years following the return of Judean exiles from Babylonia, Nehemiah
addresses the upper class, exhorting them to be mindful of the needs of less
fortunate Jews, even at the expense of their own property rights.
Are you pressing claims on loans made to your brothers?
… We have not done our best to buy back our Jewish brothers who were sold
to the nations; will you now sell your brothers so that they must be sold [back] to
us?
… What you are doing is not right. You ought to act in a God-fearing way so as
not to give our enemies, the nations, room to reproach us. I, my brothers, and
my servants also have claims of money and grain against them; let us now
abandon those claims! Give back at once their fields, their vineyards, their olive
trees, and their homes, and [abandon] the claims for the hundred pieces of
silver, the grain, the wine, and the oil that you have been pressing against them!
(Nehemiah 5:7-12)
In the following verse, the nobles agreed to abide by Nehemiah’s proposal. A

few chapters later, we read of Jews rededicating themselves to the observance
of sh’mitah (the sabbatical year), as outlined in Leviticus 25 and Deuteronomy
15:
We will forego [the produce of] the seventh year, and every outstanding debt.
(Nehemiah 10:32)
1. What practical problem might develop as an unintended consequence of

the cancellation of debts every seventh year? (Hint: see Deuteronomy
15:9-10.)
2. What can we learn about the obligations we have to help the poor today
based on this mitzvah? Does the work that Bono has been doing in the
international banking world reflect the parashah’s intention?
Note that this problem, which grows out of legislation aimed at protecting the
poor, may cause many of the sources of funding for the poor to dry up. At times
during the talmudic period people took out loans for ambitious commercial
projects. It became necessary to revise the framework through which the loans
were given, instituting a bold new procedure that permitted the debt to be
carried during the seventh year and beyond while still conforming to the letter of
the biblical restrictions. Information is widely available on the web by searching
for the word prosbul or prozbul. In modern times, a procedure known as heter
iska is widely used in banking institutions in Israel for similar reasons.
PARASHAT SHOFTIM
August 18, 2007 – 4 Elul 5767

Moses continues to review the laws for the Israelites in anticipation of their entry
into the Promised Land. Our parashah opens with the mandate to create a
judicial system charged with the responsibility of interpreting the codified laws
as actual cases arise. By extension, this mandate also authorizes the
development of legislation that builds on the existing body of laws.
Elaborating on the subject of leadership, Moses discusses the possibility of the

people being ruled by such a monarch. An Israelite king is expected to abide by
the Torah and to live with some limitations upon his regal style. Touching on
another aspect of leadership, we read of the lack of a contiguous land
inheritance for the kohanim and the Levites, as well as a summary of the tithes
and other gifts that were designated to provide for their sustenance. We read
prohibitions against sorcerers and diviners, as well as rules concerning true and
false prophets.
Moses elaborates upon the command to establish cities of refuge for people
who kill other people accidentally. At the end of our parashah, we read the
procedure for dealing with a corpse found in a field if the people who find the
body don’t know how death happened. Both of these scenarios reflect a societal
reverence for life, coupled with a concern for fairness. Other aspects of fairness
are underscored in the requirement to respect the property boundaries of
others’ land and the demand that a court must verify testimony that would make
an unfair judgment more likely.
As we might expect from instructions to a people on the verge of entering the

Promised Land, we read several important guidelines about how warfare should
be conducted. After the Israelites are exhorted not to fear their rivals, several
classes of people are excused from military service. There is also a prohibition
against destroying fruit trees during battle and siege.
Topic #1: Human Ability to Rationalize
An Israelite king’s power, as outlined in the latter part of Chapter 17, is not
entirely unfettered. The king has several positive commandments to live up to,
as well as a variety of restrictions. Among the restrictions are:
Moreover, he shall not keep many horses or send people back to Egypt to add
to his horses, since the Lord has warned you, “You must not go back that way
again.” And he shall not have many wives, lest his heart go astray.
But the Bible indicates that King David’s son did not follow the letter of the law:
Solomon had 40,000 stalls of horses for the chariotry and 12,000 horsemen. (I
Kings 5:6)
He had seven hundred royal wives and three hundred concubines. (I Kings
11:3)
King Solomon, widely noted for his wisdom, seems to have shown remarkably
poor judgment!
We are not the first to note that this king seemed to ignore the Torah’s rules for
a monarch. In the Talmud, Rabbi Yitzhak wonders how King Solomon might
have sought to justify behaving contrary to the Torah’s specific instructions.
Rabbi Yitzhak further said: Why were the reasons for [the commandments in]
the Torah not revealed? Because in two passages where the Bible revealed
reasons, the greatest [intellect] in the world stumbled [over fulfilling those
commandments]. It is written: “He shall not have many wives.” Solomon
reasoned: “I will have many and not go astray.” But [the result] is written:
And it came to pass, as Solomon reached advanced age, his wives turned away
his heart. (I Kings 11:4)
(Rabbi Yitzhak continues:) It is written: “He shall not keep many horses.”
Solomon reasoned: “I will have many and not send people back [to Egypt].” But
[the result] is written:
Solomon’s horses were procured from Egypt and Kue. The king’s dealers would
buy them from Egypt at a fixed price. A chariot imported from Egypt cost 600
shekels of silver… (I Kings 10:28-29)
(Sanhedrin 21b)
In the extended passage above, Rabbi Yitzhak suggested that perhaps it is not
such a good idea for the Torah to specify the reasons for the commandments,
since this seems to invite enterprising people to figure out why and how these
reasons do not apply to their own situation. On the other hand, we certainly feel
that slavish execution of divine commandments is inferior to the fulfillment of
mitzvot with focused intent. (See, for example, Mindful Jewish Living, by
Jonathan P. Slater.)
How important is it to have an understanding of the purpose of a given mitzvah,

instead of simply saying “it is a mitzvah”? Should we seek to satisfy our
legitimate curiosity about the purposes and goals of the commandments? If we
do that, how do we guard against the tendency to rationalize away any practice
that is inconvenient in our own lives?
Topic #2: Human Dignity
In the closing passage of this week’s parashah (21:1-9) we read of a

disheartening situation, coupled with a positive communal response. Because
respect for human dignity demands that an unsolved murder is not to be
ignored, the Torah prescribes a procedure through which the community
sensitizes itself to the value of human life. Curiously, the unspecified role played
by the kohanim in this ceremony (21:5) does not begin until after an animal has
been ritually slaughtered.
Kohanim generally are required to avoid contact with the dead, as outlined in
Leviticus 21. The Torah grants exceptions when members of the kohen’s
immediate family die. These exceptions do not undermine the basic framework,
which calls for kohanim to be involved with life, rather than preoccupied with
death.
A category analogous to the unsolved murder scenario in our parashah is the

metmitzvah, an unattended dead body of a friendless person. Rather than leave
such a body to await the unanticipated appearance of an unknown relative or
friend, during Roman times the rabbis ruled that attending to such a corpse
becomes the responsibility of every Jew. Surprisingly, even though a kohen is
strictly limited in his contact with the dead, the rabbis mandated that attending
to a met mitzvah preempts these limitations, even for the kohen gadol, the high
priest! (The source is the legally oriented midrash known as Sifra, in a comment
to Leviticus 21:1 that is cited on page 513 of Hertz’s commentary in The
Pentateuch and Haftorahs (sic).)
What message do we think the rabbis were sending by allowing a kohen to

disregard an explicit Torah commandment to take care of a met mitzvah?
How did the rabbis deal with a conflict between two positive values (in this case,
the kohen’s need to maintain his bodily purity vs. the recognition that the met
mitzvah was created in God’s image, just as everyone else is)?
A conflict between right and wrong should not require much intellectual struggle.
How do we, in the twenty-first century, deal with two right values that collide
with each other?
PARASHAT KI TETZE
August 25, 2007 – 11 Elul 5767

There are weeks when the parashah is virtually all narrative; this is particularly
true in the early books of the Torah. This week’s parashah is predominantly
legal in nature. Some laws are reviewed in anticipation of entering the Promised
Land, while other laws are set forth for the first time.
We read this week about marriage, divorce, and family laws; anti-poverty
legislation; laws concerning corporal punishment; requirements for fair business
practices; legislation concerning safety and accident-prevention; marital and
sexual misconduct; forbidden relationships; and even laws concerning criminals
who already have been executed. An underlying current in this week’s parashah
is the need to provide protection for the most helpless members of society. Our
parashah closes with a commandment to remember the behavior of Amalek,
who attacked the Israelite camp when the Israelites were helpless, shortly after
they left Egypt.
Topic #1: Ma'akeh
When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof, so that
you do not bring bloodguilt upon your house if anyone should fall from it.
(Deuteronomy 22:8)
A parapet, or ma’akeh in Hebrew, is a low protective wall. The commandment

from Deuteronomy about the need to build one has been understood broadly
through the centuries. In the Talmud, Rabbi Natan teaches that the principle of
protecting against foreseeable accidents implied in this verse has obvious
applications in other everyday situations:
that a person should not raise a vicious dog within his house, and that he
should not erect an unstable ladder within his house. (Bava Kamma 46a)
Some modern phrases about similar hazards are “an accident waiting to
happen” or “an attractive nuisance.” What are areas in modern life where the
principle of the ma’akeh could be applied? Are the laws that apply to building
swimming pools or balconies and terraces on buildings examples of that? What
of laws in many communities about keeping pit bull terriers or animals that
rarely are kept as pets? In your opinion, would the reasoning underlying the
commandment of ma’akeh be applicable to the requirement to wear seat belts
when riding in a vehicle? What of wearing a helmet when riding a cycle of any
kind? Can you think of any other situations in which the safety-conscious
reasoning of ma’akeh would apply, without stretching the reasoning
excessively? Are there differences in situations where a person is personally
put at risk by a choice versus a situation where other people are put at risk by
another’s decision?
What other principle(s) within the Torah are consistent with or underlie the
mandate to take reasonable measures to protect human life?
Topic #2: The Quest for a Just Society
You [the merchant] shall not have in your pouch alternate weights, larger and
smaller. You shall not have in your home alternate measures, a larger and a
smaller. You must have completely just weights and completely just measures,
if you are to endure long on the soil that the Lord your God is giving you.
The word just (a variant of justice), as it appears in this passage, is a translation

of the Hebrew word tzedek. Clearly the Torah considers fraud in weights and
measures to be a breach of justice as opposed to a trivial administrative matter.
The implication is that such fraud could undermine the fabric of society.
Other examples in our parashah of the striving to achieve a just society include
the rules against humiliating a borrower (24:10-13) and the requirement to pay a
day-laborer in a timely fashion (24:14-15).
In post biblical times, the word tzedakah came to be used as the standard
Hebrew (and Yiddish) term for charity. However, there is a significant nuance of
difference between the Hebrew and the English terms. Charity comes from a
Greek root meaning gift, which implies that a charitable contribution takes place
only if the potential giver is in the mood. Tzedakah (from the Hebrew root
meaning justice) reflects a sense that the donation restores or preserves a
sense of justice in the world, and that the act of giving is required, not optional.
In the past year or two, media reports have drawn our attention to the conditions
in kosher slaughterhouses, including the treatment of the rank-and-file workers
of these factory-like facilities. The owners of one large facility have gone to
great lengths to help the public see their management style in a more positive
light and have noted that non-kosher plants are no better. In the meantime, the
kosher supervision authorities, who are predominantly Orthodox, have defined
the scope of their hekhsher, or supervision, narrowly, in terms of the
technicalities of the kosher slaughter process. A commission jointly sponsored
by the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism and the Rabbinical
Assembly, both Conservative, has expressed concern about food that is
technically kosher but clearly the end product of a socially unjust system. This
commission has been developing recommendations for a second certification,
which would be prominently displayed in addition to (not instead of) the
traditional kashrut certification, by those facilities that meet specific standards
for the treatment of their workers. This additional certification, is tentatively
being called Hekhsher Tzedek.
Why do you suppose kosher purveyors and supervisors have been reluctant to
address social and humanitarian concerns in the kosher food-production
process?
Why do you imagine that the Conservative joint commission was attracted to
the name Hekhsher Tzedek?
Do you think that the Hekhsher Tzedek is necessary? Might it be an example of

over-regulation?
Imagine that you are in a store to buy kosher meat, and you find that you must
choose between two products. They cost the same and have the same
traditional kashrut certification, but Product A also displays the Heckhsher
Tzedek and Product B does not. Which would you be more likely to buy? If the
product displaying the Hekhsher Tzedek costs 5 percent more, would that affect
your decision?
PARASHAT KI TAVO
September 1, 2007 – 18 Elul 5767

Much of the book of Deuteronomy consists of speeches by Moses. The

Israelites’ role, it would seem, is to listen passively. In this week’s Parashah we
see a way for the people to actively reaffirm their loyalty to the covenant as a
nation, and also in retelling our shared history in the context of a formal family
declaration.
Moses instructs the Israelites to bring first fruits (after having entered the
Promised Land and cultivated it) and to declare the special connection between
God, the people Israel, and the land of Israel. The people are also directed to
keep up-to-date in their tithing, and to clear out any backlog of tithes triennially.
A ritual was prescribed for all the tribes to array themselves on two mountains,
G’rizim and Eval, upon entering the Promised Land. There was to be a
reaffirmation of the covenant and a stern warning to those who would
transgress basic commandments.
The balance of the parashah is occupied with a brief outline of the benefits of
adhering faithfully to the covenant, followed by a graphic and lengthy narration
of the consequences of violating the covenant. This latter section, called the
Tokhehah, is customarily chanted in a hushed (and sometimes hurried) tone.
Ending the parashah on a positive note, we read a reminder of the miracles

which God had performed for the people Israel, coupled with an exhortation to
observe God’s commandments.
Topic #1: Aramee Oved Avee
My ancestor was a wandering Aramean. He went down to Egypt with meager

numbers and sojourned there; but there he became a great and very populous
nation. The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us; they imposed
heavy labor upon us. We cried to the Lord, the God of our fathers, and the Lord
heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery, and our oppression. The Lord
freed us from Egypt by a mighty hand, by an outstretched arm and awesome
power, and by signs and portents. He brought us to a land flowing with milk and
honey. (Deuteronomy 26:5-9)
The above passage, which appears near the opening of Parashat Ki-Tavo, was
originally to be recited in conjunction with bringing bikurim, first fruits, to the
central temple on the Shavuot festival. Oddly enough, many of us associate this
passage with Pesah, since it is quoted (with a radically different interpretation)
in the Haggadah.
We know that the ancient rabbis occasionally indulged in fanciful interpretations

of biblical texts, but this particular interpretation strains credibility:
The Aramean (Laban) wanted to destroy my ancestor; but my ancestor went

down to Egypt and he sojourned there; (his household was) meager in numbers,
but there he became a great and very populous nation.
Note what liberties have been taken with the biblical text:
An alternative interpretation of this verse construes the adjective oved

(wandering) as the verb ibbed (would have destroyed). This reading identifies
Laban (Jacob’s uncle) as the Aramean in question, and terms him more
injurious than Pharaoh. For while the latter plotted to kill [only] the sons, Laban
aimed at the extinction of all the Israelites. (Passover Haggadah: The Feast of
Freedom, edited by Rachel Anne Rabinowicz, p.44)
These liberties are best understood within the historical context of the large
Jewish community that thrived in Alexandria following the death of Alexander
the Great. (This is the same Jewish community which produced the Septuagint,
a translation of the Torah’s five books into Greek.)
It seems strange that Laban should be regarded as a greater menace to Israel

than Pharaoh. A modern scholar maintains that this interpretation was given in
the third century B.C.E., when Syria (Aram), typified by Laban, and Egypt,
typified by Pharaoh, were rivals for the control of Palestine, then ruled by the
Egyptian Ptolemies. Since the Haggadah is not favorable to Egypt, this Midrash
was introduced as a gesture of good will towards the Egyptians, with whom the
Jews... desired to live on friendly terms. (Passover Haggadah, compiled and
edited by Rabbi Morris Silverman, p. 16)
[Note: The modern scholar referred to was Professor Louis Finkelstein, who
later became chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America.
Finkelstein developed this thesis in a series of monographs published in the
Harvard Theological Review in the 1930’s.]
The question of “dual loyalty” has a long history. A few decades ago, Jews in
the United States were sensitive to the charge that their loyalty to the Jewish
people might exceed their loyalty to the United States. What possible responses
can be given to such a challenge? Would your response mirror that of the
Alexandrian Jews, or would you choose a different direction? Is there a point
where Jews living in the Diaspora would have to make a choice between their
home country and their religious heritage? What might prompt the need to make
such a choice? Are there any clear-cut ways to approach that question?
Topic #2: Miracles of the 40 Years in the Desert
According to the biblical narrative, several unusual things happened to the

Israelites during their wanderings in the desert. We know about the manna
which they ate and about the cloud (by day) and fire (by night) that showed our
ancestors when to travel and when to camp. In the same category, consider the
following passage:
I led you through the wilderness forty years; the clothes on your back did not
wear out, nor did the sandals on your feet. (Deuteronomy 29:4)
There is more than one way to understand this passage (and a parallel one in
Deuteronomy 8:4):
a. Rashi (1040-1105), quoting a Midrash, suggests that the clothing of the

Israelites grew as the wearers grew. (Keep in mind that those who
eventually entered the Promised Land at the end of the 40 years had not
yet reached adulthood at the beginning of the 40 years.)
b. Ibn Ezra (1089-1164), consistently a rationalist, suggests that the
Israelites must have taken a great deal of clothing with them upon their
departure from Egypt. (This hypothesis makes it possible to understand
the statement about clothing without assuming that the laws of nature
were somehow circumvented.)
Which of these interpretations appeals to you? Why? Or, if neither is appealing,

why not?
Is there yet another way to understand this verse which you find to be more
compelling?
What is the purpose of the statement? God demonstrating personal greatness?

Telling the Israelites they need to be grateful for what they have?
PARASHAT NITZAVIM-VAYELEKH - SELIHOT
September 8, 2007 – 25 Elul 5767

Triennial Cycle: Deuteronomy 31:7 – 31:30 (Etz Hayim, p. 1174; Hertz p. 888)
This week’s brief double-parashah opens with advice about significant choices.
The Israelites, called upon formally to rededicate themselves to the covenant
with God, are reminded that God knows each person’s innermost thoughts.
Failure to fulfill the covenant inevitably will lead to disaster. The people always
will have the opportunity to repent, to return to God, and to be redeemed from
punishment and exile. The people are exhorted to choose life over death and
good over evil by choosing to love God and to follow the proper path by fulfilling
God’s laws and statutes.
Moses, while telling the people that he is nearing the end of his life, announces
that Joshua will lead them into the Promised Land to conquer it from the
peoples living there. He commands Joshua and the people to be strong and
resilient in adhering to God’s word.
Procedures are set in place for writing down the Teaching and for making the
people aware of its content at regular intervals.
The reading concludes with reference to a poem outlining the cycle of behavior
that will follow the death of Moses, in which the people will turn astray from the
covenant. This poem is to serve as a witness against the Israelites, or perhaps
as a warning to them against disloyalty.
Topic #1: Universal Access to the Torah
Moses is quite clear in saying that religious study and observance are within the
reach of all Jews.
Surely, this Instruction which I enjoin upon you this day is not too baffling for
you, nor is it beyond reach. It is not in the heavens, that you should say, “Who
among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we
may observe it?” Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who among
us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that
we may observe it?” No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in
your heart, to observe it. (Deuteronomy 30:11-14)
Far from being a secretive, arcane, or mysterious document, the Torah is

intended to be available to the people as a whole, not just to the select few. In
the words of a contemporary Reform rabbi and scholar, W. Gunther Plaut:
The Torah belongs to, and therefore is the responsibility of, all the people.
Clearly, the words of Deuteronomy 30:11-14 emphasize this principle and at the
same time reject the notion that Torah is secret lore, accessible to a chosen few.
Israel had its priests, but, unlike those of Egypt’s temples or of Greece’s oracle
places, their knowledge of God’s law was not exclusive. Because of their
training, knowledge, and position, their decisions had superior weight (as did
those of the Rabbis in post-biblical history). However, Israel’s priests dealt at all
times with a law and a tradition available to all. This is the obvious meaning of
verse 12: “(The Torah) is not in the heavens that you should say, ‘Who among
us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may
observe it?’” The text provides its own affirmation: “No, the thing is very close to
you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it” (verse 14).
In the religious traditions of antiquity such a commitment to universal

accessibility was unique, and it had an even more profound effect on the Jewish
people as the centuries passed. The study of Torah became the supreme
preoccupation of the Jew; none was too humble to be excluded from the
mitzvah of learning and none was too prominent to be excused from it. It was a
command, averred the Mishnah, that outweighed all others, for everything
flowed from it. (The Torah: A Modern Commentary, p. 1542)
How was spiritual knowledge imparted within other ancient religions?
It has been said that Rashi’s popular commentary on the Torah, written in the
eleventh century, served to democratize the study of the Torah by placing it
within the reach of many more Jews. Do you agree? In what ways do we
continue the concept of Torah being open to all? Do you have any suggestions
for the further democratization of Torah study in the twenty-first century? Does
the idea of democratization mean that all comments should be equally accepted
or studied? Are there measures that can be applied to keep the standards high?
Topic #2: Hak-Hel: Passing on Torah to the Next Generation
On the verge of the Israelites’ entry into the Promised Land, as part of his own
leave-taking, Moses directs the people to read the Teaching aloud, publicly, at
regular intervals. The Hebrew word for the command to gather the people is
“hak-hel,” related to the more familiar nouns “kahal” (congregation) and
“kehilah” (community).
And Moses instructed them as follows: Every seventh year, when all Israel
comes to appear before the Lord your God in the place which He will choose,
you shall read this Teaching aloud in the presence of all Israel. Gather (hak-hel)
the people – men, women, children, and the strangers in your communities –
that they may hear and so learn to revere the Lord your God and to observe
faithfully every word of this Teaching. Their children, too, who have not had the
experience, shall hear and learn to revere the Lord your God as long as they
live in the land which you are about to cross the Jordan to possess it.
The term “Teaching” in this passage is an English translation of the Hebrew
word “torah.” However, because Hebrew does not use capital letters, we cannot
know whether this passage is telling us to read the entire Torah (Five Books)
aloud, or simply to read a particular Teaching that is a subset of the Torah.
In any case, it is clear that the perpetuation of Judaism depends upon each
generation receiving our shared traditions anew. Moreover, we must study as
adults as well, lest our Judaism be nothing more than a child-like understanding
of how to face life’s complex issues. Ezra, who lived in the fifth century B.C.E.,
seems to have understood this need on two levels. First, he held a public
reading as outlined above. (See Nehemiah, Chapter 8.) Second (as understood
in the Talmud, Bava Kamma 82a), he instituted weekly readings from the Torah.
To this day, Jews around the world read the Torah every Shabbat, in a cycle
that completes the entire Torah on a regular basis (in one or three years). Ezra
is also thought to have played an important role in establishing brief Torah
readings on Shabbat afternoon, Monday morning, and Thursday morning.
What advantage(s) do you see in reading the Torah to the people in a formal
ceremony once every seven years? Do you see any educational
disadvantages? What is the best way to keep the messages of the Torah fresh
in our minds?
Are there advantages in subdividing the Torah into weekly installments?
Note that we publicly underscore our connection to the Torah in at least two
ways:
1. We read from the Torah every Shabbat morning, in the middle of the
service.
2. We sing and dance in celebration on Simhat Torah, as we prepare to
undertake once again our commitment to another cycle of Torah reading.
3. Many of us dramatize our receptivity to the study of Torah by taking part
in special all-night study sessions on Shavuot.
PARASHAT HA’AZINU - SHABBAT SHUVAH
September 15, 2007 – 3 Tishrei 5768

Haftarah: Hosea 14:2 – 10; Joel 2:15 – 27; Micah 7:18 – 20 (Etz Hayim, p.
1235; Hertz p. 891)
Moses is aware that his life is nearing its end. Joshua has already been
designated as his successor. The Israelites have been wandering for 40 years,
and Moses knows well that the 40-year sentence of wandering has been served.
Having given several prose speeches, Moses couches his final farewell as a
poem. As the Israelites’ leader for two generations, he has more to say than
“You’re all wonderful; goodbye.” He has some stern warnings to convey about
the pitfalls of complacency. He therefore wants to designate enduring witnesses
to his words, so that no one can credibly say after his death that Moses had not
put the Israelites on notice. This may be what he has in mind when he opens
with the words:
Give ear, O heavens, let me speak;

Let the earth hear the words I utter! (Deuteronomy 32:1)
It is hard to imagine witnesses that are more enduring than heaven and earth.
Moses’ farewell poem fills most of this week’s parashah. The poem is followed
by a brief paragraph that says, in essence, ”Pay attention to the above.” Then,
in the concluding paragraph of our parashah, God directs Moses regarding his
impending death.
Topic #1: Material Wealth and Religion
So Jeshurun (Israel) grew fat and kicked –

You grew fat and gross and coarse –
He forsook the God who made him
And spurned the Rock of his support. (Deuteronomy 31:15)
Moses fears that material wealth and personal comfort may undermine religious
loyalty.
Is there necessarily a negative correlation between a person becoming wealthy

and a lack of religious loyalty? Can only poor people be religiously devout? We
all have seen people of limited means who pour out their hearts in
straightforward sincerity. Such people’s pure and unadorned acts of religious
devotion speak for themselves.
There is another, contrary, viewpoint that posits that only people who are
affluent have the opportunity to devote time to religion. The theory assumes that
poor people, who must spend every waking moment assuring their own survival,
could not possibly have time to cultivate the inner life of the spirit, while those
who have wealth also have the leisure time for such pursuits. (Some faiths
require those who are involved at the most serious level to take vows of poverty,
to avoid this very issue.)
What do you think?
We are aware that some aspects of religious participation/education/celebration

require that people spend money. Is there a difference between having money
to pay for participation and being religious? If, indeed, there are doors closed to
people of modest means in our congregations or community organizations,
what can we do to make communal Judaism more available to them?
At the same time, we are concerned, as Moses seems to be, that wealth may
breed complacency. Is there anything that we can/should do to make Judaism a
more compelling force in the lives of those with greater material resources?
Topic #2: As Your Brother Aaron Died
That very day the Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Ascend these heights of Avarim
to Mount Nebo, which is in the land of Moab facing Jericho, and view the land of
Canaan, which I am giving to the Israelites as an inheritance. You shall die on
the mountain that you are about to ascend, and shall be gathered to your kin, as
your brother Aaron died on Mount Hor and was gathered to his kin.
It is not entirely clear whether these words were intended gently or harshly.
When viewed together with the two verses that follow, this paragraph initially
appears to be a merciless punishment. Moses must pay, just as Aaron had paid,
for the sin that they had committed jointly.
On the other hand, Moses was well aware of how dignified and gentle Aaron’s
death had been, because he witnessed it himself. (See Numbers 20:23-29.)
Assuming that no human being can live forever, Aaron’s departure from this
world was as benign as possible. This is summarized in rabbinic shorthand by
the statement that Aaron died by a divine kiss (Bava Batra 17a).
With that in mind, do you think that the reference in this week’s parashah to
Aaron’s death was intended harshly or gently?
YOM KIPPUR READING
Annual: Leviticus 16:1 – 34 (Etz Hayim, p. 679; Hertz p. 480)

At Minhah: Leviticus 18:1 – 30 (Etz Hayim, p. 688; Hertz p. 488)
Haftarah: Yona 1:1 – 4:11 Micha 7:18 -- 20 (Etz Hayim, p. 1247; Hertz p. 964)
Some considerations for the study of the Book of Jonah
The prayer books for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur have sound, informative
translations and summaries of the day’s Torah readings. Rather than repeat
material readily available in these machzorim, in this week’s Torah Sparks we
will focus upon the Yom Kippur afternoon haftarah, which is the book of Jonah.
Both the Hebrew text and the English translation of Jonah are readily available
in most machzorim, but generally without extensive commentary. This brief but
significant book is read at a time of the day when many Jews who have been in
the synagogue that day have left. Our objective is to focus attention on the book
of Jonah, in the hope that its message, so often overlooked, will enrich the lives
of those who concentrate upon it.
Our understanding of the book will be enhanced if we can transcend certain

engrained assumptions:
A. While the large fish (sometimes characterized as a whale, although the

text does not call it that) plays an important role in the early part of the
book, this book is not simply a tall tale about a fish.
B. Although Jonah was a prophet, he was not blindly obedient to God. Like
many of us, he occasionally questioned God’s orders. He even rebelled
against God’s directives on more than one occasion.
The book of Jonah consists of four short chapters. There is no substitute for
reading it in its entirety. However, a brief summary may help us to think about
several themes that otherwise might elude us:
Chapter I
1-3: God commands Jonah to deliver a prophetic message to Nineveh. Jonah

then boards a ship headed in the opposite direction.
4-16: God brings a storm that threatens the survival of Jonah’s ship. Even after
it becomes known that Jonah is the cause of this danger, the gentile sailors
seek to find a way to save not only the ship but Jonah as well. When all else
fails, they succumb to Jonah’s request to throw him overboard. The sea then
becomes calm.
Chapter II
1a: God is clearly not finished with Jonah. The Lord sends a large fish to
swallow him. 1b-9: During three days in the belly of the fish, Jonah is prayerful
and reflective. (However, he does not recommit himself to his prophetic
mission.)
10: At the Lord’s behest, the fish expels Jonah onto dry land.
Chapter III
1-3a: God repeats his command that Jonah go to Nineveh.
3b-10: Jonah obeys. The people of Nineveh are remarkably receptive to the
prophetic message. They repent, and God retracts his decree against the city.
Chapter IV
1-5: Jonah complains to God about the futility of his mission. His mood is worse
than grumpy.
6-11: God teaches Jonah a lesson by means of a shade plant.
A masterful treatment of this book and its message can be found in the JPS
Bible Commentary: Jonah (1999). In this commentary, Professor Uriel Simon
calls our attention to several basic questions that must be dealt with in any
serious treatment of Jonah:
1. Why was Jonah unwilling to prophesy against Nineveh?

2. What did the Lord teach his prophet by means of...
a. the tempest?
b. the fish?
c. the gourd?
3. What are readers supposed to learn from the book as a whole?
Try to keep these questions in mind as you read through the full text of the book
of Jonah. (Now might be a good time to read it.)
A further conundrum was pointed out several decades ago by Professor Bezalel
Porten. As we try to understand Jonah’s petulant avoidance of prophesying
publicly against Nineveh, we may wish to take note of the fact that the Hebrew
name for that city is an anagram of Jonah’s Hebrew name. (In other words, the
letters of the prophet’s name – with one letter repeated – make up the name of
the city to be castigated.) Since many scholars assume that the book of Jonah
is an allegorical tale, rather than a historical one, what might be the message
behind the author’s choice of name for the city targeted for divine punishment?
It has been pointed out that Jonah yearned for consistency, favoring strict
justice over divine compassion. On a personal level, the prophet is not entirely
comfortable with God’s mercy and compassion – even at the end of the book.
Yet one of the lessons of this book may well be that the world survives only by
the triumph of divine mercy over divine justice. In his commentary, Professor
Uriel Simon points out a subtle but profound shift that the ancient rabbis
introduced to our understanding of the life-lesson of the impatient Jonah:
The halakhic sages... expressed the same exegetical view by appending to the
Book of Jonah, when read as the haftarah of the Afternoon Service on the Day
of Atonement, the last three verses of the Book of Micah (7:18-20), through
which Jonah, as it were, recants his condemnation of the attributes of
compassion and grace (Jon. 4:1) by reciting the praises of God, who desires to
be gracious to His creatures and lighten the burden of their sins and
transgressions:
Who is a God like You, forgiving iniquity and remitting transgression; who has
not maintained His wrath forever against the remnant of His own people,
because He loves graciousness. He will take us back in love; He will cover up
our iniquities. You will hurl all our sins into the depths of the sea. You will keep
faith with Jacob, loyalty to Abraham, as You promised on oath to our fathers in
days gone by.
Professor Simon also quotes a fragment of midrash that conveys the ancient
rabbis’ ideas about divine receptivity to repentance. (Please note that King
David was assumed to be the author of the psalms. Also, we have revised one
phrase to render it gender-neutral. Other than that revision, this passage is
quoted verbatim from Simon’s work, on page xiii of his Introduction.)
They asked of the Torah: “How is the sinner to be punished?” It replied, “Let him
bring a sacrifice and he will be pardoned.”
They asked prophecy: “How is the sinner to be punished?” It replied, “The

person who sins,… he shall die.” (Ezek. 18:4).
They asked David: “How is the sinner to be punished?” He replied: “May sinners
disappear from the earth and the wicked be no more.” (Ps. 104:35).
They asked Wisdom: “How is the sinner to be punished?” It replied, “Misfortune

pursues sinners.” (Prov. 13:21).
They asked the Holy Blessed One: “How is the sinner to be punished?” The
reply: “Let him do repentance, and I will accept it, as it is written: ‘Good and
upright is the Lord [; therefore He shows sinners the way]’ (Ps. 25:8).”
READING FOR SHABBAT HOL HAMOED
SUKKOT
Annual: Exodus 33:12 – 34:26 (Etz Hayim, p. 538; Hertz p. 362)

Haftarah: Ezekiel 38:18 – 39:16 (Etz Hayim, p. 1260; Hertz p. 979)
Summary of the Torah Readings
On the opening days of Sukkot, we read guidelines for the festivals from
Leviticus, chapters 22 and 23. The passages about the sukkah and the four
species --lulav (palm branch), etrog (citron), hadassim (myrtle), and aravot
(willows) – are particularly interesting.
Today’s reading focuses on the Covenant of Compassion, in which God

provides Moses with a list of 13 divine attributes to be invoked through prayer
when the people Israel are in special need. We are familiar with these 13
attributes because they form a recurrent theme within the penitential prayers of
the High Holy Days.
I. Hosha'not: A Prayer Agenda for Sukkot
Sukkot, which comes at the conclusion of our penitential season, provides a

final opportunity for us to pray for the well-being of the Jewish people and for
the land of Israel. This opportunity forms the backdrop for the Hosha’not,
prayers for divine assistance that Jews chant as they walk in a procession
around the synagogue, carrying a lulav and an etrog. A different poetic prayer is
chanted on each day of Sukkot.
The agenda of things to pray for reflected in these Hosha’not suggest a pre-
modern agricultural society. Among the themes encapsulated within the
Hosha’not are:
a. God must be mindful of the obligations implied by His covenant -- power,

greatness and mercy.
b. God must remember the Temple in Jerusalem, a vision of perfection and
a focal location for the expression of mutual love between God and the
Jewish people.
c. We plaintively seek divine forgiveness for our inevitable transgressions.
d. Throughout the centuries, Jews have endured suffering due to their
loyalty to God. This deserves recognition and merits divine intervention
on their behalf.
e. Jews yearn for salvation. They study the Torah and observe the sacred
seasons. We await the fulfillment of God’s promises, reflected in
prophecies.
f. Jews place their hope in God. May God provide water for every shrub,
making the earth fertile and not withholding the blessing of rain.
The concern about rain, which is specified in one theme and implied in others,
reflects the statement in the Mishnah: On the Festival (Sukkot) the world is
judged concerning water. (Rosh Hashanah 1:2)
This concern is specifically focused on the agricultural needs of the land of

Israel. Where else in our prayers do we focus on Israel and its agricultural
needs? Why is the well-being of Israel so important to Jews, even those who
live thousands of miles away from Israel?
II. Where Did the Hosha'not Come From?
The following information is excerpted from a marginal comment in Or Hadash:

A Commentary on Siddur Sim Shalom for Shabbat and Festivals (page 200):
A major feature of each day’s [ancient] Temple ceremony during Sukkot was a
procession in which the Kohanim would walk around the altar holding lulavim
and willows, chanting phrases calling upon God to save and deliver them
(Sukkah 4:5). It is possible that the people joined in the procession. If not, they
joined in the singing that accompanied it. The songs chanted during the
procession came to be known as Hoshanot, from the words hosha na, save us.
Our synagogue service derives from this ancient celebration. We too form a
procession with the lulav and etrog and walk around the synagogue chanting
special Hoshanot prayers.
Most of the Hoshanot are very ancient. If they are not those composed to
accompany the Temple procession, they were composed not long thereafter
following an ancient pattern. Some of them were written by early liturgical poets
who also followed the simple pattern of the early hymns. All of them are litanies
– brief, simple, repetitive, alphabetical songs that enable the congregation to
join in a chorus.
III. The Content of the Hosha'not Designated for Shabbat
The piyyut (liturgical poem) that we recite on the Shabbat that falls during
Sukkot focuses on the Jewish people and on their worthiness of divine attention
and help due to their faithfulness to the Torah in general and to the Shabbat in
particular. The choreography of the Hosha’not procession is different on
Shabbat than on all the other days of Sukkot, because we do not use the lulav
on Shabbat. This fact further redirects attention toward the Shabbat aspect of
this particular day of the festival.
Our time might be well-spent examining this poem to see what were deemed, in
an earlier generation, to be especially virtuous points of the people Israel. Even
if the profile might not fit well today, it is important to know our collective origin,
and to explore the possibility of reclaiming significant aspects of our heritage.
The nature of this liturgical poetry is that it is rich in allusion and not easily
translated. It also reflects a stylized structure in which the poet accepts the
restriction that each item must begin with a particular letter, working
consecutively through the Hebrew alphabet. There are several reasons why this
structure, the alphabetical acrostic, was adopted. Two reasons that readily
come to mind that make the verses easy to remember (especially important
before the days of the printing press) and the intuitive sense of the
pervasiveness of the virtues being referred to (wherever one may look in the
alphabet, these qualities can always be found).
Most prayer books do not translate the Hosha’not, for space reasons as well as
those alluded to above. When the Conservative movement first published
Siddur Sim Shalom in 1985, brief English summaries were included. In 1998,
with the publication of the Sabbath and Festivals edition, this treatment was
expanded to include more complete translations.
A partial list of the distinguishing characteristics of the Jewish people (referred

to within the Hosha’not for Shabbat) includes the following:
1. they fulfill the twin commandments to “remember” the Sabbath and to

“observe” the day.
2. they provide for the needs of the Sabbath from the six days of their
workweek.
3. they change into fresh clothes for Shabbat.
4. they honor the Shabbat by serving tasty, special cuisine.
5. they recite blessings over two loaves of bread for Shabbat.
6. they observe the [rabbinic] commandment to light candles to welcome
the Sabbath.
7. they recite Kiddush to sanctify the Sabbath.
8. they call seven people for the reading of the Torah on Shabbat.
The items on this list obviously do not appear in chronological order, within the
timetable of the Shabbat. This is because the poet is working under the
constraints of the alphabetical acrostic, which evidently have made it difficult to
reflect a conventional timeline.
Which of the items on the above list do you find to be most significant?
Which items do you think are the most challenging to incorporate into the
lifestyle of a Jew in the twenty-first century?
If you have access to a translation of this piyyut (e.g. page 202 of the above-
cited siddur), take a look at the larger list, which should have 22 items (some of
which are fused together by the translator).
Asher Ginsburg (1856-1927), the Jewish thinker known by his pen-name of

Ah.ad Ha’am, quipped: “More than the Jews have kept the Sabbath, the
Sabbath has kept the Jews.” Which items from the larger list of 22 have
contributed to the cohesiveness of the Jewish community? What forces of the
modern world have undermined that cohesiveness? Is there anything (other
than wringing our hands) that we can do about these problems?
Death and Mourning
Customs
A Publication of
H.E.L.P.
Home Education Library Program
Beth El Synagogue
14506 California Street
Omaha, NE 68154-1951
402-492-8550
H.E.L.P.
Publications include:
A Guide to Minha / Ma-ariv

Transliteration Guide for Worship
Services
Naming a Baby
Planning a Wedding
Taking an Aliyah
Synagogue Choreography
H.E.L.P. publications are prepared by

Rabbi Paul Drazen.
© Copyright 1986, 1992, 1999 by Rabbi Paul Drazen. All

rights reserved. Reproduction by any means without
permission of the publisher is prohibited.
Death and Mourning Customs
Because we love, when a loved one dies we feel sorrow and grief. These
reactions are both normal and healthy. When death takes a loved one, life
seems empty and the future dark. Jews have guidance at sad times in our lives,
because tradition has outlined ways to deal with death and its grief. Modern
psychology has recognized the therapeutic value of the Jewish rituals and
practices which help us to express our grief rather than repress it, to talk about
our loss with friends and to move step by step from inactivity to normal living.
This booklet was written to provide an understanding of customs as observed
at Beth El. It is offered to guide our members and explain our traditions.
What To Do When a Death Occurs

Call the Jewish Funeral Home to arrange for proper care of the deceased. If
a death occurs in a hospital, their staff can make this call for you. If a loved
one dies out of town, call a Jewish funeral facility.
Contact Rabbi Drazen to assist you and to help arrange the funeral. If funeral
prearrangements have not been made, you can ease the strain of planning the
funeral by having someone, perhaps a close friend or family member, help
you make decisions.
-3-
Before the Funeral
Set time and place of the funeral with Rabbi Drazen and the Funeral home.
Although our tradition prefers having the funeral as soon as possible after
death occurs, there are times when a delay is proper. The service can be held
at graveside or the Synagogue. Telephone immediate family, close friends
and employer or business colleagues.
Once the funeral time has been set, prepare the obituary. Items to consider
including are: age, place of birth, cause of death, occupation, college
degrees, memberships in organizations, military service or noteworthy
achievements. List survivors in the immediate family. Give the time and place
of the funeral. Suggest where memorial contributions may be made.
Choose the pallbearers. Pallbearers are necessary when a funeral is held at
the Synagogue; they are optional for a graveside service. Six people who can
carry the casket are needed. It is customary not to choose immediate family
members. You may choose as many others as you wish to serve as honorary
pallbearers.
You will need to discuss the eulogy with the officiating Rabbi. Be open and
give as much personal insight as possible. Avoid false or exaggerated praise.
Tell the good things enthusiastically; remember to mention what might be
best left unsaid.
It is wise to arrange for a house sitter during the funeral. Criminals often
use obituaries to determine a time to break into homes.
The Mourner
The period of time between death and burial is called anninut and the
bereaved is called an onen. The prime responsibility of the onen is to arrange
the funeral. During this time, an onen is exempt from positive religious
obligations. As such, prayer is not obligatory at this time. However, an onen
who finds it helpful to express feelings through prayers may do so. Only
relatives or very close friends should visit during this time, primarily to help
make arrangements for the funeral and shivah.
After the funeral, a mourner is known as an avel. One is a mourner by
obligation for parents, children, siblings or spouse. However, anyone is
allowed to observe the mourning rites.
Preparation for Burial

Our tradition has long stood for simplicity in funerals and mourning. A
simple wooden casket is preferred. An ornate all-wood casket, though
ritually acceptable, is not in the spirit of the law. Cremation is not in keeping
with Jewish tradition. Before the met, the deceased, is dressed for burial, we
observe the ritual of tahara, of ritual washing, done by the hevra kadisha,
the Holy Society. We dress the body only in traditional burial shrouds,
-4-
takhrikhin, which are simple white garments. It is customary to bury a man
in a tallit which he used during his lifetime, with one of the tzitzit removed.
The tallit should be brought to the funeral home. No other objects are buried
with the dead.
Autopsy
As a general rule, Jewish tradition does not allow autopsies. However, there
are times when an autopsy might be required by law or is needed for other
reasons. Each case must be reviewed independently. Speak to Rabbi Drazen
for further information.
Embalming
Jewish tradition frowns on embalming. In rare circumstances it might be
required by law. Rabbi Drazen or the Funeral Director can help determine if
embalming is required.
Flowers
Flowers are not part of Jewish mourning practice. In the spirit of honoring the
memory of the dead by helping the living, suggest in the obituary that in lieu
of flowers, donations be directed to an appropriate charity. If flowers are
sent, share them with the living by giving them to the Blumkin Home, hospital
or other institution where they could give some joy to others.
Kriah
A few minutes before the funeral begins, the first formal act of mourning,
kriah, the tearing of one's garment or a ribbon, takes place. Kriah is a
centuriesold symbol of inner grief and mourning. Mourners stand as they
perform it, showing we face grief directly and that we will survive, even
without our beloved departed. Before the cut is made, mourners say the words
of Job, "The Lord has given and the Lord has taken, blessed be the Name of
the Lord," and recite a brakha which is a reaffirmation of faith and the value
of life, "Barukh ata adonai eloheinu melekh ha-olam, dayan ha-emet." An
initial cut is made and then the mourner takes the edges and tears it some.
The torn garment or ribbon is worn for shivah, except on Shabbat. For
parents, the ribbon is worn or the cut is made on the left side. For all others,
the kriah is on the right side.
The Funeral Service

A funeral can be held at graveside or the Synagogue. A service held only at
graveside includes the same elements as those begun at another location. It
is shorter because certain elements are repeated when a service is held in two
locations. A graveside funeral is no less dignified nor less giving of
-5-
honor to the deceased than any other service.
The funeral service is brief. Selections are read from Psalms and a eulogy,
depicting the life of the deceased as a guide for the living, is presented. El
maleh rahamim, which expresses our faith in the immortality of the soul, is
recited on most days. Once at graveside, the service consists of recitation of
tziduk ha-din, a prayer which expresses our acceptance of God's decisions,
followed by the recitation of kaddish and el maleh.
After the funeral, those attending form two lines to let the mourners pass
between them. As they do, traditional words of comfort are said, "Ha-makom
yinakhem et-khem betokh she-ar aveilei tziyon veyerushalayim, May God
comfort you among all the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem."
Shoveling Earth
After the casket is fully in the grave, the interment is begun by shoveling some
earth into the grave. This old tradition, long neglected, is once again finding
favor. This mitzvah, is known as hesed shel emet, true lovingkindness.
This mitzvah demonstrates our continuing concern for the deceased as we
make sure the final journey of the met is completed. Participating in this
mitzvah has been shown to be of great psychological benefit for mourners
since it serves as an important action of finality and closure. Because some
people feel observing this custom would be more traumatic than helpful, they
may return to their cars before it is begun.
Children at a Funeral
Should children attend a funeral? There is no hard and fast rule that applies.
If a child is old enough to understand the purpose of the funeral and to know
that people will be upset, then generally that child should come to the funeral.
The child should sit with an adult he or she knows during the service.
Remember that children need the opportunity to say "good-bye" to a loved
one as do adults. It is not good to deprive a child who is old enough to
understand of an opportunity to say farewell and to begin to grieve.
After the Funeral

Shivah
Shivah lasts seven days. The day of the funeral is the first day and one hour
of the seventh day counts as a full day. Shivah is suspended at 1:00 Friday
afternoon and is resumed after Shabbat is over. If a major holiday, such as
Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot, Rosh Hashanna or Yom Kippur falls during the
shivah period, shivah is concluded at 1:00 on the eve of the festival. Speak
-6-
to Rabbi Drazen for further details.
The shivah period begins after the interment with a simple meal, the seudat
havra'ah, the meal of consolation. There is a custom to rinse one's hands with
water before entering the house for the meal. This meal, traditionally
provided by family and friends for the mourners, is not meant to serve as a
social following the funeral. Since it is a time to rest and contemplate the
day's events, only family and closest of friends should attend. A party-like
atmosphere should not be allowed to develop.
The menu for this meal traditionally includes hard-boiled eggs, a symbol of
life, and round food, such as lentils, which symbolize the turning of the wheel
of life, with its ups and downs. Neither meat nor wine, two symbols of joy,
should be served at this meal.
Sitting Shivah
Mourners should try to stay together at the place where shivah is observed.
If they cannot, they may sleep in their own homes and return to the shivah
house in the morning. Mourners should not go to work during this time. In its
wisdom, our tradition recognizes that when a major change in life has taken
place, the survivor needs to step out of everyday activity for a while. Rabbi
Drazen can contact an employer to explain the practice and make arrange-
ments for someone to miss work.
If it is imperative for a person to go back to work, one may return after three
full days. However, this does not end shivah. After the work day is over, one
should return home and resume shivah observance.
There are a number of practices associated with observing shivah. A seven-
day candle (provided by Beth El in the case siddurim) is lit upon returning
from the cemetery. (It should be placed in a fire-proof holder, such as a bowl
or pie plate, before lighting.)
Mourners refrain from sexual relations and avoid forms of entertainment,
such as television, during the week. There is also a custom to cover mirrors
in the home, to show that we reduce the importance normally placed on
personal vanity. Mourners are encouraged to observe the customs of not
wearing shoes and sitting on low stools during shivah, which show that we
change the way we live during this time.
Visiting Mourners
People pay "shivah calls" to fulfill the mitzvah of nihum avelim, comforting
the mourners. These visits demonstrate community concern at the time of
loss. The visits help the mourners over the feelings of isolation or desertion,
both of which are natural feelings after the death of a loved one. Even if many
people have gathered, those present should be sure a party-like atmosphere
does not develop. Conversation should center on the life and memories of the
departed. Contrary to popular belief, talking about the deceased is helpful to
-7-
the mourner. Such conversation helps mourners to begin the process of
getting over their grief. If you have been through a time of personal grief and
the mourner asks you how you felt or how you managed, share your own
experience. Mourners often take comfort in knowing that others have
experienced similar feelings.
Mourners are not obligated to have food or drink available for those
who come to visit.
Shivah Services
It is traditional to hold services at a house of shivah. Beth El provides a case
of siddurim with kipot for use in homes. Family members or friends can lead
the service. Service times are set with Rabbi Drazen. If a family does not have
morning and evening services in the home during the week of shivah, it is
proper to attend services at the Synagogue and then return home. During
shivah, mourners attend Shabbat services at the Synagogue: Friday evening,
Saturday morning and evening.
After Shivah
The length of the mourning period varies with on the mourner's relation to the
deceased. For all but parents, avelut, the mourning period, ends with shloshim,
thirty days after the funeral. For parents, the mourning period lasts a full
Hebrew year.
Shloshim, a thirty day period, is the second stage of mourning. Mourners may
return to their regular activities in business and home. However, it is
appropriate for mourners to refrain from festive activities such as going to
the movies, theater, dances or parties.
During the remainder of the mourning period, what may be considered
appropriate activities depend largely on the sensibilities of each mourner. If
one has, in the past, gone out to dinner and movie on a regular basis, resuming
such activity would be reasonable. However, it would be inappropriate to
begin activities of that type during this time.
Saying Kaddish
Anyone who feels close to the deceased may elect to say kaddish. However,
children are obligated to say kaddish, as are parents who lose a child. Saying
kaddish is especially helpful to surviving spouses since it offers both
regularity in life and social contact with others at a disconcerting time.
When the mourning period is a year, kaddish is recited for eleven months and
a day. One can choose, and it is appropriate to do so, to say kaddish for the
full year, even if the obligation is only for thirty days. At Beth El, both sons
and daughters share the obligation to recite kaddish, which can be said
morning and evening at our daily services. If it is not possible to attend
services twice daily, efforts should be made to say kaddish on a regular basis,
-8-
once a day or at least on Shabbat.
The obligation to say kaddish cannot be transferred to another person. A
parent may tell children that it is not "necessary" to say kaddish or a child may
feel that a parent "wouldn't have wanted me to say it." However, a parent cannot
relieve a child of the obligation to say kaddish.
We do not believe saying kaddish is a mystical redemption of the soul. It is
a way for survivors to reestablish their ties with the Jewish community and
to see that they are not alone in grief. For those reasons, recitation of kaddish
is important.
Unveiling / Dedication of a Grave Marker

The dedication of a grave marker is not mandatory. If a dedication is desired,
it can be led by the Rabbi or a member of the family. The usual dedication
ceremony consists of reading selections from Psalms, a prayer, the el maleh
and kaddish, if there is a minyan. The usual custom is to wait a year before
having the ceremony. For more information about a dedication service, or to
get a copy of our booklet with appropriate prayers and readings for an
unveiling, scontact Rabbi Drazen.
Yahrzeit
Yahrzeit is observed each year on the date of death according to the Hebrew
calendar. Therefore, the timing of Yahrzeit on the secular calendar will vary
from year to year. The Synagogue notifies members of the secular date if the
Yahrzeit records are on file. The names of the deceased are read at the
appropriate evening service and at the Friday evening service the week before
the Yahrzeit, if those who observe Yahrzeit are present and request it.
The Yahrzeit observance lasts a full day and it is customary to attend services
on the evening Yahrzeit begins as well as the morning and afternoon of the
next day. Those who come to observe Yahrzeit recite kaddish as part of the
daily service and may lead portions of the service.
It is traditional to make contributions to charity on Yahrzeit. The Synagogue
notification form may be used in order to make such a contribution.
Perhaps the best known custom for observing Yahrzeit is lighting of a candle
made to burn for at least 24 hours. The candle is lit the evening Yahrzeit
begins. If Yahrzeit falls on Shabbat or Yom Tov, the candle is lit before the
Shabbat or holiday candles. Although there is no formal blessing when
lighting the candle, a meditation such as the one which follows may be said.
It is appropriate, of course, to use your own words and thoughts in addition
or in place of this meditation:
-9-
Dear God, I light this candle on this the Yahrzeit of my dear ___. May
I be inspired to deeds of charity and kindness to honor his/her
memory. May the light of this candle be a reminder to me of the light
my dear ____ brought to my life. May his/her soul be bound up in the
bond of eternal life. Amen.
Yizkor
Yizkor, the memorial service, is recited four times a year: on Yom Kippur,
Shmini Atzeret and the last days of Pesach and Shavuot, during the morning
service. Our tradition wisely included this service on these days since it
recognized that holiday times bring with them reminders of loved ones no
longer with us. It is most appropriate to come to the Synagogue on those
mornings and join with the congregation in reciting Yizkor.
Memorial Funds
At Beth El, families have the opportunity to establish a Named Endowment
Fund in memory of the deceased. Once the fund reaches a minimum balance,
the principal is held in perpetuity as an ongoing memorial. The family may
suggest areas for which the income of the fund may be used. Our Executive
Director or Rabbi Drazen can provide you with further details.
Yahrzeit Plaques
The Synagogue has Yahrzeit tablets with plaques recording the Hebrew and
English name of the deceased and the Hebrew date of death. For further
information about Yahrzeit plaques, contact our Executive Director.
Dealing with Grief

Every person has different reactions to situations of stress, grief and loss. It
is not unusual for a mourner to feel depressed one day and happy another or
for periods of depression to come and go for a long period of time after the
death of a loved one. These ups and downs are part of the process of returning
to normal living. Our tradition understands that life will never be the same
again after the death of a loved one, however it is important to try to regain
a sense of normalcy as one goes through the mourning period. In cases of
extreme depression or long-lasting grief, mourners are urged to speak with
Rabbi Drazen or another counselor to help get through this most difficult
time. All the resources of the Synagogue are ready to be of help to those who
are in need.
- 10 -
Conclusion
This booklet is intended to provide some basic information for mourners, not
to be an exhaustive description of traditional customs or to explain customs
as they may be observed in other Synagogues. As always our entire staff are
ready to serve you.
Glossary
Anninut: The period of time between death and the funeral. See page 4.
Avel: The Hebrew term for a mourner after the funeral. Before burial the term
onen is used. See page 4.
Hevra Kadisha: Literally, The Holy Society. A group of individuals who prepare
a body for burial. See page 5.
Kriah: Tearing of a garment or ribbon as a sign of mourning. See page 5.
Met: Literally, the dead one. The Hebrew term for the deceased.
Nihum Avelim: The mitzvah of consoling the mourners. See page 8.
Onen: Hebrew term for a survivor between the time of death and the funeral. See
page 4.
Shivah: Literally, seven. The name given to the first stage of mourning which
begins after the funeral. See page 7.
Shloshim: Literally, thirty. The second stage of mourning which lasts for thirty
days after the funeral. See page 8.
Tahara: Literally, cleansing. The Ritual washing of the body, performed by the
Hevra Kadisha. See page 5.
Takhrikhin: Shrouds. The traditional burial garments. See page 5.
Yahrzeit: The anniversary of the date of death according to the Hebrew calendar.
See page 9 for details.
Yizkor: The Memorial service. See page 10 for details.
- 11 -
A Publication of
H.E.L.P.
Beth El Synagogue
14506 California Street
Omaha, NE 68154-1951
402-492-8550
H.E.L.P. publications
are prepared by Rabbi Paul Drazen.

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PARASHAT BEREISHEIT - BIRKAT HAHODESH

October 21, 2006

Annual: Genesis 1:1 – 6:8 (Etz Hayim, p. 3; Hertz p. 2)

Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen

Summary of the Parashah

Issue # 1: The Value of Human Life

a. for parents or teachers?

Issue #2: Genesis vs. Darwin

The Torah does not pretend to be a textbook of science or of history. It is

Annual: Genesis 6:9-11:32 (Etz Hayim, p. 41; Hertz p. 26)

Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen

Summary of the Parashah

In the final verses of Parashat Noah, we are introduced to Abram (later

Issue #1: The Noahide Commandments

I. Prohibition against worshipping false gods.

The Talmud understands these seven principles to be behavioral requirements

Questions for Discussion:

Issue #2: The Tower of Babel

In Chapter 11 we read the familiar story of the tower of Babel. On a surface

Are we, in our generation, also at risk of a communication breakdown? We live

Annual: Genesis 18:1 - 22:24 (Etz Hayim, p. 99; Hertz p. 63)

Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen

Summary of the Parashah

Annual: Genesis 23:1-25:18 (Etz Hayim, p. 127; Hertz p. 80)

Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen

Summary of the Parashah

Issue #1: Detail and the Absence of Detail

Issue #2: Criteria for the Selection of a Matriarch

Issue #3: Burial Responsibilities

Annual: Genesis 25:19-28:9 (Etz Hayim, p. 146; Hertz p. 93)

Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen

Summary of the Parashah

Issue # 1: The Quiet Patriarch

Issue #2: Special Relationships

Annual: Genesis 28:10-32:3 (Etz Hayim, p. 166; Hertz p. 106)

Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen

Summary of the Parashah

Issue #1: Perceiving the Divine Presence

By contrast, Jacob is a religiously seeking person who is open to finding the

Issue #2: Laban's Concern for his Daughters

In his commentary on the Torah, Rabbi Joseph H. Hertz (1872-1946, and

Seven verses later, Hertz comments:

Annual: Genesis 32:4-36:43 (Etz Hayim, p. 198; Hertz p. 122)

Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen

Summary of the Parashah

Jacob then undertakes a pilgrimage to Beth El to express his gratitude to God

God renames Jacob with the new name Israel.

Issue #1: Anticipating a Confrontation with Esau

Jacob was greatly afraid and was distressed. (Genesis 32:8)

“Was distressed” – lest he kill.

Issue #2: Jacob in Wrong Place

In our own lives, how do we attempt to strike a balance between careful

Annual: Genesis 37:1-40:23 (Etz Hayim, p. 226; Hertz p. 141)

Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen

Summary of the Parashah

Issue #1: Ancient and Modern Interpretation of Dreams

Sigmund Freud’s theory, which strongly influences the understanding of dreams

Issue #2: In Search of a Ticket out of Jail

Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra (1089-1164), commenting on this apparently

A Note on the Maftir

Annual: Genesis Genesis 41:1-44:17 (Etz Hayim, p. 250; Hertz p. 155)

Prepared by Rabbi Avram Kogen

Summary of the Parashah

Joseph, the lowly Canaanite/Hebrew slave, has been languishing in an