Parshat Vayeshev and Chanukah, Christmas, and Kwanzaa

As the year is coming to its end, we are in a time when our days are short and the night is long. A season where darkness has a definite impact on people. That is why almost every culture, every religion has its own way to celebrate light at this time. I’m sure that almost everyone in  America who is familiar in varying degrees with the December holidays - Christmas, Chanukah, and Kwanzaa.

Christmas is a holiday that at its origin is religious and commemorates the birth of Jesus. Over time it has also morphed for many people (but not all) into a cultural celebration.

Chanukah, as we know, is a post-Biblical Jewish holiday commemorating the rededication of the Second Temple in Jerusalem after a small group of Jews known as the Maccabees fought back and triumphed against the Seleucid Empire. It is also known as the Festival of Lights. According to Jewish Law it is one of our more minor holidays, but over time its cultural status has risen as a reaction to the majority culture celebration of Christmas around us. Finally, we have Kwanzaa, a week-long celebration held in the US and other nations of the African diaspora in the Americas to honor African heritage in African-American culture.  I recognize that I am not mentioning a Muslim holiday, however there is not one at this time of which I am aware. Please let me know if I am mistaken. (Note: all definitions and date checking taken liberally from Google.)

We live in a society that has become increasingly polarized yet three holidays of different cultures co-exist in the same week. The coming of the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, and the feelings engendered by these overlapping holidays, impact even those whose cultures do not have a holy day at this time. 

For me, and some others who do not celebrate Christmas, it sometimes feels as if we are outsiders in our own home. There is a party going on that we are not only not invited to but also don’t necessarily understand. That is why it is so important to honor the differences among us. We must truly learn what lies behind the actions (and celebrations) of others before we can determine how we will allow it to make us feel. 

By understanding, we can celebrate with and for each other. We don’t need to be the host of the party or of the worship service/experience, but we can be guests at each other’s table with joy, honor and respect. 

In reading about Kwanzaa I saw the following suggestion (okay it’s from a Hallmark site but it’s still legitimate): 

“This year as your family gathers around your table to place your ancestral cloth, lay the mkeka, place the mishumaa saba in the kinara and light a candle, ask each person to reflect aloud how family keeps us rooted.” I love this quote. 

Let’s all emulate this beautiful Kwanzaa suggestion in our own way. Let’s gather around the symbols of our culture and reflect how it, along with family and community, keep us rooted.  Let us think about the cultures and celebrations going on around us and acknowledge how they keep others feeling rooted and safe and connected. 

This Torah portion this Shabbat, Vayeshev (Genesis 37:1-40:23), continues with the saga of Jacob and begins the Joseph stories. The lessons contained – the importance of family relationships, the do’s and don’ts of parenting, the idea that the trajectory of one’s life can change in a moment – are universal. They are so relevant for this time of year where light and darkness guard our days and our minds. We need to remember who we are as individuals and as a people in order to survive in a world where it has become too easy to become untethered. 

I bless all of us with connectedness and sanctity this Shabbat. I wish that we all take in the light of the holiday candles and let it fill all the deep, dark crevices within us – those places within that may not have felt filled with light for a very long time. Let us celebrate together.

I will end with a Hanukah recommendation for a wonderful website that provides us with different Chanukah videos for each night of the holiday (think 613, Maccabeats, etc):

https://forward.com/culture/436572/one-for-each-night-a-guide-to-hanukkah-a-capella-videos/

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Chaukah, the Festival of Light.

When the direct line to God is blocked

In this week’s parsha, Toldot (Genesis 25:19–28:9), just after stating that Rebecca’s children struggled in her womb we read, “Vatelech lidrosh et Hashem/ She went to inquire of God.” (Genesis 25:22) 

What does it mean “vatelech/she went” to inquire of God? Rashi (11^th century, France) posited that if we interpret the verse to say that Rebecca prayed to God, then the word vatelech/she went is inappropriate because God is everywhere and therefore one needn’t go anywhere to pray.

So what does vatelech mean? It must mean that Rebecca indeed went somewhere to inquire of God. Where would she go to seek out God? Rashi decided that she must have gone to speak to a person of God, a wise person.

Nachmanides (13^th century, Spain) took the more conventional approach and understood the word vatelech to mean that Rebecca appealed directly to God in prayer as she was feeling such anguish about her pregnancy.

I normally have a constant and fluid dialogue with God. I speak directly to God as Nachmanides wrote that Rebecca did. However, in May, my husband, daughter and I were in a very serious accident while we were on our way to say our final good-byes to my mother in New England.

The period of time when I would normally have been comforted by the mourning rituals of our tradition was preempted by hospital stays and the road to recovery.  

Since that fateful night, I find that my open access to God has been obstructed. I am operating more along the lines of Rashi’s interpretation of vatelech -  I seek out a person of God to speak to instead of direct prayer as I used to.  

Who might that person of God be? It could be my mentor or another wise clergy person of most any religion. It might be my husband, children, siblings. I find that my family contains great wisdom and guidance in this situation even if we all have different conceptions of God and prayer. I often find myself turning to the seniors who I serve as a chaplain. It is a privilege that I am able to learn from their lives and their wisdom.

Recently I conducted prayer-‘writing workshops with of the Charles E Smith Senior Living Communities. They were some of the most exciting prayer writing sessions I’ve ever experienced. The format was that of Six Word Prayers that I learned from the poet and liturgist Alden Solovy, though many of our prayers were not exactly six words.

Here are a few examples:

Prayers from residents of the Assisted Living included:  I’m happy that I can feel [again]; Make the most of what is; Let me accept the differences in life; and Allow me to see all clearly. 

Prayers from residents of the Memory Care House included:  Thank you Adonai I am Grateful. I am grateful for getting up every morning, for good health, for friendship and joy. I am grateful for my children who teach us what love feels like. I am grateful that we can argue [with our family], make up and still love each other.

I can only imagine that Rebecca’s prayer practice vacillated quite a bit over the course of her rather unusual pregnancy as it might with any major life event. Yes, God may be all around us but sometimes we have to seek God out in order to find God. Then we can find God inside us or in those around us. As it says in Psalm 145, “God is near to all who call God, to all who call God with sincerity/earnestness.”

Some food for thought: 

Which approach to God and pray speaks to you – Rashi’s or Nachmanides?

Do you find your approach to God and prayer changing with time and experience?

This Dvar Torah is dedicated to the memory of my mother, Harriett Venetsky Goldstein, may her memory be for a blessing.

*This dvar appears in the Washington Jewish Week, November 28, 2019

Lech Lecha: What Drugs Were Abram on Anyway?

This week’s Torah portion, Lech Lecha (Genesis 12:1-17:27), arguably one of the most interesting in the Torah.

Lech Lecha begins with the famous line, “The Lord said to Abram, Lech Lecha, Go forth from your native land and from your father's house to the land that I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1) Abram (not yet Abraham until later in this portion) not only listens to this voice in his head but also convinces his wife, nephew, all his family and everyone who depends upon him to go with him to this unknown place.

Many years ago Lech Lecha was my son’s Bar Mitzvah portion. In preparation for his meeting the with rabbi, he wrote an interesting and thorough Dvar Torah (sermon) but felt that that wasn’t enough. You see, when his older sister had had her rabbi meeting she had decided to inject some humour into the situation. So she printed out her entire Dvar Torah in 4 point print. When she handed it to our rabbi, he was bemused. What was he supposed to do with this?

Now, it was my son’s turn. He decided to also take the humorous route and wrote a fake Dvar to hand in. The title was, “What drugs was Abram taking anyway?” The premise was that Sarai, his wife, had a sleeping problem and had been prescribed sleeping pills from her doctor. One night Abram could not sleep and did what we all know we should not do – he took one of his wife’s pills. As a result of the strange reaction he had to the medication he heard a voice in his head telling him to leave everything he knows and go to an unknown place.  The rest is history.

My son’s story was asking a question for today – where are today’s prophets? What would happen today if someone turned to their family and said, “I heard a voice telling me we needed to leave all that we know and go to some unnamed destination where we will ultimately be rewarded but I have no idea when?” Today that person might be considered at best to have an untreated delusion or to have had a bad reaction to medication, and at worst to be on drugs. If he convinced others to follow him it might be considered the beginning of a cult.

So where does this leave us? I’ve written before about that still, small voice within us. The story of Lech Lecha and Avram’s journey is another example of trying to figure out when to listen to that voice and when to ignore it. Avram was lucky – his still, small voice was that of God.  Today it’s harder for each of us to identify and name that voice within. Sometimes we follow it and it turns out it was a purveyor of good advice. Other times… we aren’t so lucky.

May we all be blessed to read from our Torah, our history and internalize the lessons that we find within. May we be fortunate enough to identify that voice within. May we have the courage to follow our dreams – shared or not.

  

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbah Arlene