Parashat Ki Teitzei - Mitzvah Goreret Mitzvah

Parashat Ki Teitzei 

Deuteronomy 21:10 - 25:19

“When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet/ guard-rail for your roof, so that you do not bring bloodguilt on your house when/if a faller should fall from it.” (22:8)

Rashi, the medieval commentator, links this verse about building parapets to the section that immediately precedes it about not taking a mother bird and her young on the same day. He comments as follows: 

WHEN YOU BUILD A NEW HOUSE - If you have fulfilled the command of letting a mother bird go you will in the end be privileged to build a new house and to fulfil the command of making a parapet, for one good deed brings another good deed in its train, (Mitzvah Goreret Mitzvah) and you will attain to a vineyard (v. 9), fields (v. 10) and fine garments (vv. 11—12). It is for this reason (to suggest this) that these sections are put in juxtaposition (Midrash Tanchuma, Ki Teitzei 1).

People respond to the challenges of the world in different ways, each according to their own nature. Some of us are active, loud, aggressive. We raise our voices in protest, pray with our feet, lead by example, use our entire bodies when necessary. Others of us shy away from any type of physical confrontation but perhaps feel comfortable writing a letter to an elected official, signing a petition, or posting on social media. Others of us freeze, seized with fear and worry, perhaps hoping that if we keep our heads low and our voices quiet the whole situation will blow over in time. If it doesn’t directly impact us maybe things will just be okay if….

What we must understand, what Rashi teaches us here, is that our good and bad deeds are not discrete, disconnected acts. Our deeds are interwoven. Doing a mitzvah leads on to other good deeds, impacting not only those around us but also, more deeply, ourselves. Mitzvah goreret mitzvah, one good deed brings another good deed in its train. 

We don’t all need to be heroes. 

Ordinary acts of compassion for animals lead us towards having compassion for humans too; putting a guard rail up on the roofs of our houses ensures that people won’t fall off due to our lack of thought. The verse quoted above contains an oddity - it refers to the person who might fall off your roof as “a faller” not “a person”. The implication seems to be that someone really would have fallen off your roof if it were not for your building a parapet. What begins with a concern for the feelings of a bird ends with actually saving a human life.  

Don’t start big; you can start really small! You don’t have to do something big like organizing a rally or storming the White House to make a difference. Start with small acts of thoughtfulness and compassion. Every action makes a difference because ultimately good follows good. Mitzvah goreret Mitzvah. The complexity of the modern world makes us feel as if we are impotent. But we are not.

Rabbah Arlene Berger is the rabbi of the Olney Kehila and a community Chaplain in the Washington, DC area. 

Rabbi Joel Levy is the Rosh Yeshiva of the Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem. 

This Dvar has also been published in the Washington Jewish Week Newspaper. 

My first days in Israel... Jet lag, backyard wilderness, reconnecting with my soul

It's so good to be in my second home Israel! A piece of my soul has always lived here in Jerusalem and I meet up with it every two years or so when I come for the summer. 

As I'm about to enter my second Shabbat I figure I should get off at least a quick post. I've been very tired since I've been here. Didn't sleep much the first week but that didn't stop me from doing LOTS of walking. Had hoped that would cure the not sleeping from jet lag but it didn't. oh well. Am sleeping every other night now. Days are spent doing some davenning (praying) at the Conservative Yeshiva  (my home away from home) when I can get there early enough for the morning minyan,  doing some hevruta (pairs) learning with friends/colleagues, walking around the city, and beginning writing on my dream book (more on that later). Oh, and shopping - must be a visitor and contribute to the economy:)

I'm sharing an apartment with my good friend R'Laurie. We've shared a flat before. She comes every summer and I glom onto her place every other summer. Works out well for both of us - at least she hasn't kicked me out yet - so far so good. This place is right off Emek Refaim, a very touristy part of Jerusalem. Lots of shopping, lots of restaurants. Good coffee shops. We happen to be right across from  מוזיאון הטבע / the Nature Museum (or Museum of Natural History according to Google Maps) which is where I learned at a Beit Midrash with Nava Tehila a thousand years ago when I was a baby rabbit in rabbinical school. 

Best thing about this apartment is the back yard. Or as Lady Catherine de Bourgh (of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice) once described the side of the Bennet's household to Elizabeth, “Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness on one side of your lawn."  Here are  some pictures of our prettyish kind of wilderness complete with pomegranate trees, the likes of which I'm sure they are unlikely to see in Hertfordshire. 

If you look closely there is a cat staring at me malevolently as he (?) blocks my way, daring me to try to and get past him to freedom beyond (I eventually made an end-run).

This is the pomegranate tree - or eitz rimon in hebrew. The fruit is beginning to turn. Maybe we'll luck out and a piece or two will be ready by the time we leave end of July!

Anyone who knows me knows I rarely sit outside. But it is so lovely out here that I find myself sitting outside and writing - or at lease sitting on the couch and gazing out the floor to ceiling windows and thinking about sitting outside:)

Have already spoken with my spouse and children to exchange Shabbat blessings. Now I will actually go into the wilderness beyond to celebrate Shabbat with a colleague. 

My next post will be about last Shabbat and this one. 

Wishing everyone a Shabbat of peace, health, love and happiness. Emphasis on peace. 

R'Arlene

Proud Jew

On July 10. 2011 I wrote a post call "Me and My Kippah" about my journey to wearing a kippah full time. I recently wrote an update to that post. Here it is:

2017 Update

A few things have changed since this was first written. I still cover my head the majority of the time. However, I am now equally comfortable wearing a kippah, hat, or scarf/tichel. I studied the laws of kisui rosh (head covering for women) at the Conservative Yeshiva back in 2009  and at that time decided that it didn’t matter what I covered my head with as long as it was covered. The reasons – yirat shamayaim and anava  still hold true regardless of what type of cloth covers my head.

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My final confession – given the political climate of our country at this time, I find myself wearing my kippah almost exclusively. I realized that for the first time I was actually using my kippah as a political statement and not the one that I expected to be making. I always thought that I would be making a feminist statement by wearing a kippah but I find that I am making a religious statement : I am a Jew. And I’m proud of it.

My Summer in Israel’s Matzav

This article was published in the September/October 2014 issue 

of the Tikvat Israel bulletin along with another congregant's 

reflections as part of a feature called: Our Summer Experiences in Israel …

Despite this summer’s situation in Israel, for the most part, I had quite a good summer. However, usually each time I leave Israel I ache with a longing to stay. This time was different in that although I was ready to come home, I still ached. 

I ached with grief over the “matzav” – the situation  – in Israel. I ached for all the inhabitants of the land, Jew and Palestinian alike, for being caught in the impossible grip of injury, death and destruction.

I also ached from a sense of guilt for exercising my privilege of leaving a country at war and going home to safety. I felt guilt over no longer being able to show in person that I wanted to help in whatever way I could, though in truth I really didn’t know how to help except by providing the emotional support to those who ask or need and the economic support of being a tourist.

I spent the majority of my summer in Jerusalem where it was almost possible to forget at times there was a war going on … almost. Although we didn’t experience any of the day-to-day fighting, there was a sense of tension, heaviness and hyperawareness that seemed to be communally experienced. There were also pro-and anti-war rallies and riots popping up daily. I only experienced a few red alert sirens in Jerusalem and two others over a Shabbat in Tel Aviv. One quickly learned where the nearest miklat, or bomb shelter, was located relative to one’s apartment and on neighborhood streets.

Most days I spent teaching and learning at the Conservative Yeshiva. Located in the center of Jerusalem, it’s a wonderful place to study traditional text in an egalitarian setting with people from all over the world. I taught a learner’s minyan for those students (of all ages) who were uncomfortable or unfamiliar with the traditional daily shacharit service or with prayer in general. My goal, as I taught about keva (obligatory prayer) and kavanna (intentional or spontaneous prayer), was to facilitate each person’s development of their own personal prayer practice and relationship with tradition. 

While I rarely discussed the matzav in my class, I hoped that by developing an intentional prayer practice or at least a better understanding of traditional prayer, each person would be acquiring “practical spiritual skills” with which to deal with the ever-present stress.

I actually thought I was dealing with the stress fairly well. I’d lived in Israel for a year during the first war with Lebanon and had spent extended periods there during other stressful times. But, of course, the emotional and psychological toll of the matzav got to me as it did to anyone else.  Strangely enough, it wasn’t the rocket attacks that unnerved me. Rather, it took a phone conversation with my daughter to do that.

My daughter decided to spend Shabbat in Tel Aviv the first week after the war began. I wasn’t thrilled, as Tel Aviv was rapidly becoming a favorite Hamas target, but what was I to do? As we spoke during our Shabbat Shalom conversation on Friday, I found myself reviewing the procedures of what to do if she got caught away from a miklat/bomb shelter during a rocket attack – out of doors or in a car. It turns out she knew what to do and I just had to be satisfied with that. At the end of our conversation, I blessed her for Shabbat, told her that I loved her and hung up.

Shortly thereafter I found myself trembling. I had just reviewed rocket attack safety procedures with my child. I’m an American. I never expected to have to do that. But I’m also a Jew. A Jew who spends a lot of time in Israel. So why was I so surprised and unnerved? Nevertheless, I was. And to some degree, I still am after returning to Rockville.

I received many e-mails over the summer asking if I was going to come home early or if the sender, who was thinking of coming to Israel, should actually come. I never did consider coming home early and while I wanted to say to everyone, “Yes, of course, come!” I couldn’t (and didn’t) do that. One person’s sense of safety and belonging isn’t the same as the next person’s. Each must make their own choices and those choices will be the right ones for them.

There is so much we can learn by integrating our tradition with the multi-cultural complex world we live in. When Jennie and I were chevruta partners at the yeshiva in a course that traced the civilizational development of the phrase “V’Ahavta L’reacha Ka’mocha,” (love your neighbor as yourself), we applied that knowledge to current-day relationships.

Finally, it was borne out when I spoke to people -- Jews, Christians, Muslims and tourists -- about country, family, heritage and the pain and sense of helplessness that this situation was bringing to all of them.  May peace come soon and in our time.

Note: Since this article was written, a permanent cease fire has gone into effect. Let us pray that it holds. AMB

Me in front of Robinson’s Arch, the

egalitarian section of the Western Wall 

in Jerusalem. Had just finished davenning 

Shacharit (morning prayer) with the Conservative Yeshiva.

The Two Version of the Fourth Commandment: to “Remember,” “Keep” Shabbat

This Dvar Torah appears in the Washington Jewish Week, August 7, 2014

In this week’s parsha, V’etchanan Moshe begins the second recitation and teaching of the Ten Commandments.  There are slight differences in the two versions of the Decalogue presented in Exodus and Deuteronomy. I want to highlight the differences between versions of the fourth commandment, to keep the Sabbath (Exodus 20:8-11 and Deuteronomy 5:12-15). 

The best known difference is found in the first line of the commandment. Exodus 20:8 states: Zachor et haShabbat l’kodsho/Remember the Sabbath to keep it holy and Deuteronomy 5:12 states: Shamor et haShabbat l’kodsho /Observe or Keep the Sabbath to keep it holy.  

Why two different words? There are many explanations but I prefer the simplest one. The first time we learn the Ten Commandments we are a newly formed people receiving the basics about how to become the Jewish people. The term zachor is a big picture term to be understood as saying “remember to observe” the Sabbath.  The term shamor/observe in our parsha reminds us that there are specific ways to observe the Sabbath and we are to remember them. Midrash says that the people heard both of these words at the exact same time. The midrash makes sense if both words contain each other’s meanings within them. 

The final difference occurs in the last lines of the commandment. In both versions we are told that the Sabbath is the seventh day and not to do any work; the difference is in who this commandment applies to and why. The people commanded to obseve the Sabbath in both verses include you, one’s son, daughter, male and female slaves, cattle and stranger within your gates.  Deut 5:14 reads:   “But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord your God; in it you shall not do any work, you, nor your son, nor your daughter, nor your male slave, nor your female slave, nor your ox, nor your ass, nor any of your cattle, nor your stranger who is inside your gates; so that your male slave and your female slave may rest as well as you.”

We find the ox and ass added to cattle as a way of reinforcing the need to be kind to animals. Tending to animals and strangers are both things that a slave should have respite from on the Sabbath. The addition in this version is clearly one that speaks to us about how to run our household and by extension our community with respect and fairness (at least according to those times). 

There is one final line in each version of the commandments – the “why” of it all. 

Exodus 20:11:  “For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day, and made it holy.” 

Deuteronomy 5:15: “And remember that you were a servant in the land of Egypt, and that the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and with a stretched out arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the sabbath day.” 

We are reminded here of the two core narratives of our people – Creation and the Exodus from Egypt. Why do we do what we do as Jews? Because God created our world and everything in it and that we are to remember that we were once slaves that that same God rescued from Egypt.  Now as the people are about to enter the Holy Land, it is fitting to remind them not only of all that God has done to help transform them from slaves to a free people ready to enter the promised land but also to teach them the specifics of how to behave as free people. 

I’ve just returned from spending the summer in Israel. Given the current state of affairs I cannot think of a better time to be reminded of where we come from and what/who we need to become.  This week’s Torah portion reminds us that knowing the right thing to do is not the same as actually doing it. It also reminds us that all people are created in God’s image and are deserving of rest, of freedom and of peace. May peace come quickly and speedily in our time. 

Table Topics:

1. What do the differences in these commandments mean to you?
2. Make a comparison of the rest of the commandments and see what differences you can find.  Note especially Commandments 5 and 10. 
3.  If you were to add an Eleventh Commandment, what would it be? 

Thank you to Rabbi Daniel Goldfarb for reminding me of the differences between these two commandments in his class "Torah in Action" at the Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem this summer. The idea for this d'var came from that class. 

The Conservative Yeshiva visits Ezrat Yisrael (Egalitarian part of Kotel)

Me

The Conservative Yeshiva has been davenning Shacharit on Sunday mornings at Ezrat Yisrael as often as possible this summer. Here are some pictures of the chevre davenning there. It's lovely to see men and women praying together; women and men leading services; and everyone wearing varying forms of ritual garb - various headcoverings (kippah, hat, scarf or bare head), tallit, tefillin.

SESSION ONE

A group of students walked to the Kotel VERY EARLY IN THE MORNING with
CY teacher Esther Israel and learned local history on the way. 

Rabbi Joel Levy, Director of the CY, preparing to start davenning.

JTS student Louis Polisson leading Shacharit.

It was a lovely prayer service. Folks were comfortable
just being who they were, as they were,  and praying together. 

SESSION TWO

This session is a quite a bit larger than last session. Not only do we have a large complement of summer students from all over the world, we also have a group of 30 students specifically from France! Makes for interesting and varied conversations - truly enriches and deepens our learning on all levels. 

Rabbi Joel giving a brief history of Robinson's Arch. 

We had so many people we had to share Siddurim!

My Prayer Experience: Part II – What I Prayed

My previous post was about how I realized that where I prayed - specifically Ezrat Yisrael or Robinson's Arch - impacted my prayer experience. What I need to talk about now was something that happened during my prayer experience that morning. I’ve been teaching a Learner’s Minyan course this summer at the Conservative Yeshiva (CY) – the how’s and why’s of prayer, the technical part and the spiritual/emotional part.  What I hadn't realized was how much more aware of my own daily prayer experience I would become by teaching about prayer. 

So Sunday morning (July 6) I was in the zone. The davening was lovely – niggunim, proper nusach (I’m a sucker for proper nusach), voices raised in community.  I was saying the words, singing, swaying, dancing, meditating – all my usual prayer modalities. I felt… connected, like I was being filled up at some deep level that hadn’t been filled in a while.  Especially after a lovely, restful Shabbat with davening that soothed and touched me and after spending time with folks that felt like family when I’m so far from home.  So spiritually/emotionally things were going well.

Until I started my recitation of the silent Amida. Things were going well until I got to the 12^th blessing of the Amidah.  And I read the following words in the Hebrew: 

 וְלַמַּלְשִׁינִים אַל תְּהִי תִקְוָה. וְכָל הָרִשְׁעָה כְּרֶגַע תּאבֵד. וְכָל אויְבֵיךָ מְהֵרָה יִכָּרֵתוּ. וְהַזֵדִים 

מְהֵרָה תְעַקֵּר וּתְשַׁבֵּר וּתְמַגֵּר וְתַכְנִיעַ בִּמְהֵרָה בְיָמֵינוּ. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה', שׁובֵר אויְבִים וּמַכְנִיעַ זֵדִים: 

v'La'malshinim al t'hi'ii tikva......

I was gobsmacked. Everything just stopped for me. I physically took a step back and stumbled out of the spiritual "zone"that I'd been in. Reality had intruded. The matzav, the day to day reality of what was going on in Israel hit me in the face. The four murdered boys - the three Israeli Jewish boys, the one Palestinian Muslim boy. The venomous hate spewing from mouths on both sides. The calls for love and peace coming from the parents of the Jewish boys. The protests, the riots, the anger, the fear, the rumors, the gossip, the unknown total truth, the calls for justice, the calls for peace, the calls for revenge. 

Now six Jewish young men ranging in age from 16-25  have been arrested for murdering the Arab boy. Will justice be served? What is justice in this situation? And why haven't the murderers of the 3 Jewish boys been found and captured yet? What will be a just punishment for them? Is there one? 

One feels the tension on the street. Emotions are high, tempers flame, people are wrapped very tight, people who don't usually pray are praying and those who do usually pray are questioning what good prayer does.  It feels like the world has turned upside down. 

The prayer... In his article in the My People's Prayer Book: the Amidah, Lawrence Hoffman says this prayer "is actually a malediction not a benediction." (p133).  What is a malediction? Just as a benediction is a blessing, a malediction is a curse or "a phrase uttered with the intention of bringing about evil or destruction." It surely seems that the folks the prayer is talking about - heretics, slanderers - have evil intentions in mind. So what are we praying about? 

Let's look at a few translations of this prayer - Birkat HaMinim - the Blessing of Heretics: 

• Frustrate the hopes of all who malign us; let all evil very soon disappear. Let all your enemies soon be destroyed. May you quickly uproot and crush the arrogant; may You subdue and humble them in our time. Praised are You, Lord who humbles the arrogant.  (Siddur Sim Shalom, Conservative) 

• And for the slanderers, let there be no hope; and may all wickedness perish in an instant; and may all Your enemies be cut down speedily. May you speedily uproot, smash, cast down, and humble the wanton sinners - speedily in our days. Blessed are you,  Hashem, Who breaks enemies and humbles wanton sinners.  (Artscroll, Orthodox)

• V'la'malshinim al t'hi tikvah v'chol harish'a k'rega toved.  Baruch atah YHVH machniyah zedim. Let all who speak and act unjustly find no hope for ill intentions. Let all wickedness be lost. Blessed are You, JUST ONE, who subdues the evildoers. (Kol HaNeshama, Reconstructionist - NOTE: middle line has been removed)

Who are the slanderers? They are traditionally understood to be Jews, heretical Jewish sects in the that existed in Israel some time after the destruction of the Second Temple. Examples are: Sadducees, Essenes, the early Christians and others. 

We pray here for the undoing of the slanderers and the heretics. We pray that our enemies, who are by definition the enemies of God, get what's coming to them. We pray that evil speech is frustrated (always a good thing to wish for). We bless the One who is going to wreak havoc upon all the bad guys.  

Okay. This is a prayer that people might want to say in a time when we believed in a personal God who intervened in the daily world - and though many people find this prayer problematic today, specifically for definitional and intentional reasons, I can see why people might want to put thoughts like this out into the universe in times of crisis.  

But why do we say this prayer daily today? That however, is a question for another time. 

Back to Sunday. Why did it shake me up the way it did?  I still don't know.  Maybe it's because we still say it on a daily basis. Maybe it's just that it is distasteful. This reminder that not only are there mean, evil people in the world but that dafka, these people are all around us, living among us - are in fact US. Maybe, probably, we each even have a little bit of la'malshinim,  the slanderers, the heretics, the ones who bear tales, the ones who get others in trouble -- and extrapolating from there - the ones who don't always do the right thing (whether for the perceived or real "right" or "wrong" reasons), the ones who cause dissent, the ones who cause needless and senseless pain to others. 

When I first started saying and learning about this prayer as a young girl,  the malshinim of blessing #12 in the Amidah always represented "bad" in contrast to the Tzadikim and Chassidim (the righteous) whom we pray for in blessing #13.  Today I am no longer the young girl who took the words of her prayers at face value. I understand that the world is made up of stark contrasts of darks and lights, not muted shades of grey. The "good" of yesterday can be the "bad" of tomorrow. One's former enemy can quickly turn into an ally.  

There are extremists all around and there are those who hold the middle ground.  How do we find those we need to align with for peace? How do we know who to trust? How do we know that those we perceive as enemies are not in fact true allies - with the same hopes, fears and loves that we have - but the barriers between us are so thick that it is nearly impossible to make the necessary connections? 

Living in the multicultural city of Jerusalem, the home of my heart and soul;  standing, not at the "main" section of the Kotel but a smaller egalitarian section, but on ancient, contested and holy ground nevertheless;  and praying words of praise, thanksgiving and petition to the Awesome One, the Creator of All - I experienced a moment.  

In that moment I was transported from a state of complacency to awareness, from an American to a citizen of the World,  from a rabbah who tends to avoid public discussions of politics to a rabbah who realizes that all politics are not only local but in fact internal. 

And what am I left with? At the moment, a large Question Mark?

Note:  as I was about to post this sirens went off in Jerusalem and two booms. My family lives in Ashkelon and Beersheva and they are being barraged daily with missiles - especially Ashkelon. It is time for peace. Now.  

We are all fine. B"H

My Prayer Experiences: Part I – Where I Prayed

This morning I davened Shacharit (morning prayer) with the Conservative Yeshiva (CY) at Ezrat Yisrael, the “non-Orthodox” section of the Kotel (the Western Wall or the Wailing Wall). What and where is that? It’s a new section of the Kotel, in or near what has been called Robinson’s Arch, a few dozen yards south of the existing plaza, next to the Rambam Gate. The longstanding plaza that one thinks of when visualizing the Kotel still stands  – the large plaza divided in two by a mechitza, a divider/fence of sorts separating a large men’s section from a smaller women’s section. 

But now, if one goes off to the right, past the entrance to the Dome of the Rock, a new mini (and I mean mini) platform has been built where men and women can pray together in an egalitarian, pluralistic manner, unimpeded, 24 hours a day. Prior to this platform being built, access to egalitarian Robinson’s Arch area for prayer had time restrictions. I am happy that the time restrictions are off but personally I'm not so happy about the small space available for prayer. To me the area, while still quite impactful, has lost some of the raw power that it had before the platforms were built.  

Ezrat Yisrael - One can pray under the umbrellas - a bar mitzvah was happening as I took this picture last week. 

Another view. Here the umbrellas are closed. If you look to the right of the umbrellas, there is a triangle of yellow cloth. The space between that cloth and the Wall is where we prayed this morning. Very small. You can see the dug up rocks in the foreground of the picture. 

There was just something so primal in the davening that I would do when I was sitting on the ground, amidst the upheaval of the rocks and uneven pavement that remained from days gone by. The upturned stones are still there, you can see them, but not sit amongst them. 

One of my most powerful prayer experiences was in just this space on Tisha B’Av in the summer of 2009. Tisha B’Av occurred during the second summer session at CY. A group from the CY went to Robinson’s Arch and observed Tisha B’Av evening services along with another group of Conservative Jews, Russians, if I recall. I listened to the aching lament of Eicha (Lamenations) while sitting on the ground amongst the ruins of the Temple by Robinson’s Arch. During our time there we heard church bells ringing and the Muezzin (the Muslim call to prayer). We also heard a huge commotion – some kind of protest outside the old city – punctuated by horns honking and other modern and ancient sounding noises.

What an experience that was! Sitting on the ancient ground, candles lit, listening to Lamentations, hearing the multicultural noises around me – part of that evening seemed to transcend time and space. For the first time I began to feel what it might have been like during the destruction of the Temple – the chaos, the noise, the surreal quality of the experience. It was a Tisha B’Av that I will never forget. And it was only able to happen because of the city where it was located, because of the ground upon which I was seated, and of course because of the wonderful community of the Conservative Yeshiva that I was a part of.

For a blog posting of another experience at Robinson's Arch, go to

http://theitinerantrabbit.blogspot.co.il/2011/07/shacharit-morning-prayer-at-robinsons.html

More to follow.....

Update July 8, 2014 - I was happy to learn that there is a plan to clear stones and make a larger space on the ground.  

My Complete Lovely Day

Hello from the Conservative Yeshiva (CY) in Jerusalem!

My intention had been to write a daily blog about my learning and teaching at the CY during my 6 weeks here - but classes started on Sunday and this is my first post. Something about this visit seems different than my previous visits but I don't know what it is.

I've been in J'slem a week now and have yet to wander about the city or go to the Old City/Western Wall at night. That's very unusual for me.  Also, the Yeshiva feels different to me - or perhaps it's that I've been feeling different at the Yeshiva. It might be because it's my first time there as a proper rabbi - whatever that is.   But also, I had really looked forward to doing my favorite thing - learning in the Beit Midrash and until today, my learning has been very flat.  Even my daily writing has been flat. But today that all changed.

Today was a near perfect day. I woke early and was at the Yeshiva before 7. I was able to spend a good 20 minutes meditating in the sunshine before anyone else arrived. This was very important for me as I teach a Learner's Minyan* (LM) each morning so I only get to daven 3 out of the 5 days of classes. I LOVE teaching the LM but I didn't realize how much I'd miss the structure that actualizing my daily personal spiritual practice provides me. The meditating this morning grounded me and I will continue to do it from now on.

*(Learner's Minyan - a class teaching the hows and whys and structure of daily prayer)

It's interesting - in the LM I made a point of telling the students in LM that our studying together each morning - with the occasional chant and prayer - is a form of prayer. And I stand by that. We are gathering together as an intentional community to study and learn liturgy and to learn/practice ways to increase our connection to the Awesome One. That is prayer. But even though I am totally energized by teaching this class of wonderful, thoughtful, interested people, my daily spiritual needs are not being met. So now they will be with the meditation. Thus the wonderful day began.

My intention is to spend the mornings writing - high holiday sermons, other divrei torah, curriculum, etc. To date I have not gotten very far. Today I was researching a dvar torah on parashat Balak and had an incredibly productive morning. Amazing how much there is to learn about Balaam's ass!

Afternoon learning was a class called "Shema, Tefilla and Bracha" taught by my friend and favorite teacher Rabbi Joel Levy, the Director of the CY.  A class with such a title has great promise as it focusses on my favorite topics (how egocentric I am!).  In this class we are looking at how the rabbis tried to create an infrastructure for spirituality and Jewish identity in order to sustain Jewish life in the diaspora.

In the first two classes we studied the mishna on the Shema and the parameters of when one is allowed to say the evening and morning Shema.

The message of this chapter, according to Rabbi Joel, is to provide a look at how the rhythms of our life are reflected through text and liturgy. The rhythms of our life are the rhythms of the Jewish people - and the story being told is how our individual stories and rhythms interweave with the rhythms of our people.

It reminds me of one of my favorite concepts - the idea of being one in a minyan. (I've written about this before).  Exercising the status and obligation of being one of ten people in a minyan is a powerful action. One makes a statement of belonging, believing and of peoplehood. One also is meshing or interweaving one's individual story and rhythm with the rhythm of our people. To participate in a minyan is to an individual that is part of group but also to be part of a group that is made up of individuals.  It proves that there is a way to be a member of a group, to be obligated and to fulfill that obligation without giving up one's individuality. For it is that very individuality that enables the group to exist and act on its purpose.

What does this have to do with the Shema class? Everything and a bit of nothing. But the point is the class got me thinking, B"H. And I'm pleased. My inner nerd is ecstatic. My inner yeshiva girl is dancing about and grinning widely.

I finished my day at the yeshiva doing more research on Balaam. Did you know that midrash has it that he buggered his ass b/c his affection for her was as if she were his wife? Scary, right?

Evening was spent getting a massage and then finishing the day with a group meditation session. The day was well rounded; I was grounded and centered; I got to teach; I was blessed with interesting learning both on my own and with a fantastic teacher. And I walked around Jerusalem a bit in the dark - one of my favorite activities.

Truly a complete and lovely day!

Alex and Eema

Haven't posted in a while. Am planning on starting a new blog now that I'm no longer a rabbinical student. But wanted to share this article that appeared in the Spring 2013 issue of Today's Israel! 
http://www.uscj.org/todaysisrael.

Alex and Eema

         I was last in Israel a year ago and can’t wait to get back. One way to satisfy this yearning is my weekly Friday Shabbat Shalom conversation with my son.  Even more special than just hearing about Israel is hearing about his studies at the Conservative Yeshiva (CY) a place that I love.  For example, recently we talked about my preparation for an upcoming wedding and he offered to lend me his Talmud class notes on Masechet Kiddushin. How cool is that?
         This was fairly typical of Alex’s and my weekly conversations. Alex, 19, is currently spending his gap year on the Nativ College Leadership Program on the CY Track. The CY is one of my favorite places to learn. My first experience at the CY was in 2009 during a summer and fall semester as part of my rabbinical school training. I fell in love with the CY as a place where I could study ancient text, with both traditional and modern perspectives, with people of all ages.     
         Although Alex and I did not study at the CY at the same time we did get to have a Mother and Son learning experience. We would share his learning during our Shabbat calls so that it became our learning. He shared shiurim that I remember learning – I found my notes and we were able to compare! He would tell me things he learned in that week’s Community Discussions that he either had questions about or was excited to share or that he thought would be appropriate for use in one of my Sunday schools.
         Alex took one of my favorite classes, Liturgy, with R’Daniel Goldfarb. We often discussed what went on in class, reviewing the various aspects of different prayer, comparing traditional to liberal perspectives. These conversations helped me prepare my monthly service at my shul. A highlight was when Alex came home over winter break and taught a class on Israel at one of my schools. He used skills and knowledge learned at the CY and on Nativ to prepare for and teach the class. He could never have done that before this experience. It was fantastic! Through all this we’ve had discussions on philosophy and theology as Alex continues to develop his adult Jewish identity.
         As Jewish parents we are commanded to teach our children. We want to share our passions and interests with our children. As a rabbi I want to teach my children that which I love – Judaism. I am always trying to find ways to share this with my both my son Alex and his sister Jennie, who is studying to be a Jewish educator. To have Alex study at CY is a dream come true for his Eema. To have him love his time at the CY and want to return is a blessing. For Alex to want to share so much of it with his Eema is a gift that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

       
Rabbah Arlene Berger
Education Director of the Chavurah at Sixth and I Historic Synagogue,
Washington, DC

Alex Berger,
NATIV 32
UMD, Class of 2017

Purim and Assimilation Shiur Sources

~ Text in previous blog post - Sorry it looks so funny, couldn't figure out how to format it properly:) ~

Purim and Assimilation Sources
By Rabbi Joel Levy
 

Source 1
בבלי מסכת מגילה דף ז/ב
אמר רבא
מיחייב איניש לבסומי בפוריא
עד דלא ידע בין ארור המן
לברוך מרדכי
רבה ורבי זירא עבדו סעודת
פורים בהדי הדדי איבסום קם
רבה שחטיה לרבי זירא
למחר בעי רחמי ואחייה
לשנה אמר ליה ניתי מר ונעביד
סעודת פורים בהדי הדדי
אמר ליה לא בכל שעתא ושעתא
מתרחיש ניסא
 

Bavli - Megillah 7b
Rava said:
It is a person’s duty to intoxicate themselves on Purim until they cannot tell the difference between “cursed be Haman” and “blessed be Mordecai” Rabbah and Rabbi Zera joined together in a Purim feast. They became drunk and Rabbah arose and cut Rabbi Zera's throat. On the next day he prayed on his behalf and revived him. Next year he said, Will your honor come and we will have the Purim feast together. He replied: A miracle does not take place on every occasion!

1. How drunk do you think you would need to be not to be able to tell thedifference between “cursed be Haman” and “blessed be Mordecai”?
2. The text involves a statement of a Halacha (law) followed by a piece ofAggadah (narrative/story). Why do you think the story is brought here? Shouldour reading of the story change the scope or power of the legal ruling? (This is an interesting example of the interdependence of law and narrative!)
 

Source 2
אסתר פרק ט
(א) וּבִשְׁנֵים עָשָׂר חֹדֶשׁ הוּא חֹדֶשׁ
אֲדָר בִּשְׁלוֹשָׁה עָשָׂר יוֹם בּוֹ אֲשֶׁר
וְדָתוֹ לְהֵעָשֹוֹת 􀃍 הִגִּיעַ דְּבַר הַמֶּלֶ
בַּיּוֹם אֲשֶׁר שִׂבְּרוּ אֹיְבֵי הַיְּהוּדִים
הוּא אֲשֶׁר 􀃍 לִשְׁלוֹט בָּהֶם וְנַהֲפוֹ
יִשְׁלְטוּ הַיְּ הוּדִים הֵמָּה
בְּשׂנְאֵיהֶם:
 

Esther Chapter 9
1. And in the twelfth month, that is, the month Adar, on the thirteenth day of the same, when the king’s command and his decree drew near to be put in execution, in the day that the enemies of the Jews hoped to have power over them, instead it was over-turned such that the Jews had power over those who hated them.
 

1. Look for the words that appear both before and after the overturning. What is itthat was over-turned according to this verse?
2. In Hebrew a revolution is a מהפכה – a “mahpeichah” – would you describe what happened in the Purim story as a ?מהפכה
3. How do you feel about this over-turning? Does it make you feel happy?                                                               

Source 3
אסתר פרק ט
(כ) וַיִּכְתֹּב מָרְדֳּכַי אֶת הַדְּבָרִים
הָאֵלֶּה וַיִּשְׁלַח סְפָרִים אֶל כָּל
􀃍 הַיְּהוּדִים אֲשֶׁר בְּכָל מְדִינוֹת הַמֶּלֶ
אֲחַשְׁוֵרוֹשׁ הַקְּרוֹבִים וְהָרְחוֹקִים:
(כא) לְקַיֵּם עֲלֵיהֶם לִהְיוֹת עֹשִׂים אֵת
יוֹם אַרְבָּעָה עָשָׂר לְחֹדֶשׁ אֲדָר וְאֵת
יוֹם חֲמִשָּׁה עָשָׂר בּוֹ בְּכָל שָׁנָה וְשָׁנָה:
(כב) כַּיָּמִים אֲ שֶׁר נָחוּ בָהֶם
הַיְּהוּדִים מֵאוֹיְבֵיהֶם וְהַחֹדֶשׁ אֲשֶׁר
לָהֶם מִיָּגוֹן לְשִׂמְחָה וּמֵאֵבֶל 􀃍 נֶהְפַּ
לְיוֹם טוֹב לַעֲשֹוֹת אוֹתָם יְמֵי מִשְׁתֶּה
וְשִׂמְחָה וּמִשְׁלוֹחַ מָנוֹת אִישׁ לְרֵעֵהוּ
וּמַתָּנוֹת לָאֶבְ יוֹנִים:
(כג) וְקִבֵּל הַיְּהוּדִים אֵת אֲשֶׁר הֵחֵלּוּ
לַעֲשֹוֹת וְאֵת אֲשֶׁר כָּתַב מָרְדֳּכַי
אֲלֵיהֶם:
 

Esther Chapter 9
20. And Mordecai wrote these things, and sent letters to all the Jews that were in all the provinces of the king Ahasuerus, both near and far, 21. To establish this among them, that they should keep the fourteenth day of the month Adar, and the fifteenth day of the same, yearly, 22. Like the days when the Jews rested from their enemies, and the month which was overturned to them from sorrow to joy, and from mourning to a holiday; that they should make them days of feasting and joy, and of sending portions one to another, and gifts to the poor.  23. And the Jews undertook to do as they had begun, and as Mordecai had written to them;                              

1. What else was over-turned apart from the political climate?
2. What sort of joy might you feel if you experienced this kind of radical reversal of fortune?
 

Source 4
בבלי ערכין דף י/ב
פורים דאיכא ניסא לימא
אמר רבי יצחק לפי שאין
אומרים שירה על נס
שבחוצה לארץ
מתקיף לה רב נחמן בר
יצחק והרי יציאת מצרים
דנס שבחוצה לארץ הוא
ואמרינן הלל
כדתניא עד שלא נכנסו
ישראל לארץ הוכשרו כל
הארצות לומר שירה
משנכנסו לארץ לא
הוכשרו כל ארצות לומר
שירה
רב נחמן אמר קרייתה זו
היא הלילא
רבא אמר בשלמא התם
הללו עבדי ה' ולא עבדי
פרעה הכא הללו עבדי ה'
ולא עבדי אחשורוש אכתי
עבדי אחשורוש אנן
 

Bavli - Arachin 10b
Then let it (Hallel) be said on Purim, on which, too, a miracle occurred! Said Rabbi Isaac: [It is not said] because no song [Hallel] is said for a miracle that occurred outside the [Holy] Land. To this Rav Nachman Bar Isaac objected: But there is the Exodus from Egypt, which constitutes a miracle that happened outside the Land, and yet we say Hallel! There it is due to the following braita: Before Israel entered the [Holy] Land, all the lands were considered fit for song to be said [if a miracle had occurred in their boundaries]; once Israel had entered the Land, no other countries were considered fit for song to be said. Rav Nachman said: The reading [of the Megillah] that is its [Purim's] Hallel. Rava said: It works well there (At Pesach): “Praise you servants of the Lord” (Ps. 113:1) but not servants of Pharaoh; but here “servants of the Lord”, not servants of Ahasuerus. Surely they are still servants of Ahasuerus!                                                                                                                           
 

1. Try to identify the different answers to the question why we do not say Hallel on Purim.
2. Which is the most convincing to you?
3. Which of the three have something to say about contemporary Jewish existence in the Diaspora?
 

Source 5
בבלי סנהדרין דף עד/ב
והא אסתר פרהסיא הואי
אמר אביי אסתר קרקע עולם
היתה
רבא אמר הנאת עצמן שאני
...
ואזדא רבא לטעמיה
דאמר רבא עובד כוכבים דאמר
ליה להאי ישראל קטול
אספסתא בשבתא ושדי לחיותא
ואי לא קטילנא לך ליקטיל ולא
לקטליה שדי לנהרא ליקטליה
ולא ליקטול
מאי טעמא
לעבורי מילתא קא בעי
 

Bavli - Sanhedrin 74b
But did not Esther transgress publicly? Abaye answered; Esther was merely natural soil. Rava said: When they [the persecutors] demand it for their personal pleasure it is different… This [answer] concurs with Rava's view
expressed elsewhere. For Rava said: If a Gentile said to a Jew, “Cut grass on the Sabbath for the cattle, and if not I will slay you” he must cut it rather than be killed (But if he said) “Cut it and throw it into the river” he should rather be slain than cut it. Why so? Because his intention is merely to force him to violate his religion. The text begins by suggesting that perhaps Esther should have died rather than submitting to Mordechai’s plan for her to marry the king: she was being forced by a non-Jew to transgress an element of Jewish Law publicly and in such cases we generally rule that a person should prefer martyrdom. The text offers two distinct explanations for Esther’s non-martyrdom in the name of Abaye and Rava. They are hard to make sense of so maybe Rashi’s explanations of their positions will help:

 Abaye – “Esther was merely natural soil” – Rashi – “She did not do anything – 

He (Ahasuerus) did things to her!”

 Rava – “When they [the persecutors] demand it for their personal pleasure it is different…” – Rashi – “If the Non-Jew does not intend to turn aside the Jew from his fear of God but rather he only seeks his own benefit then the case is different…”
 

Can you translate these two categories into terms that make sense for you?

Purim and Assimilation: A Purim Teaching

I wanted to share an interesting and thought provoking Purim lesson written by my teacher Rabbi Joel Levy of the Conservative Yeshiva. This is the most recent in the CY's e-shiur series.  Rabbi Joel always provides a unique spin on familiar topics.  Enjoy! Chag Sameach.

                                                                  Purim and Assimilation
                                                                      By Rabbi Joel Levy

Alone among all the Jewish festivals, Purim is a holiday with a traditional injunction to become intoxicated. Our first text is from the Babylonian Talmud and is the primary source for that obligation (Source 1). This shiur will be an attempt to look at some different ways of understanding this obligation.

The first way is straightforward: drinking is simply a means by which to celebrate. Megillat Esther is the story of a huge inversion. The Jews of Shushan move from being on the verge of annihilation to actually wiping out their enemies. A verse found towards the end of the Megillah describes this huge change (Source 2).

Later in the same chapter we learn about the emotional correlates of this upheaval. The Megillah again uses the verb root hey-pay-chaf, this time to talk about the emotional shifts that accompanied the political one (Source 3). This text tells us that Purim is expressly a time of joy. Purim is a time of rejoicing and festivity because we were saved from genocide. The Jews felt then, and we are supposed to feel now, the inversion from powerlessness to power (source 2) and from sorrow to joy (source 3). Maybe the unique instruction to become intoxicated at Purim is a pure expression of joy! The psalmist tells us that “wine gladdens the heart of man.” (Psalms 104:15) so maybe the alcohol is there as a means to loosen us up and get us in the “right” mood!

I am generally suspicious when people tell me that it is good idea for me to get drunk. None of my own experiences of real drunkenness, either my own or my experiences of those around me, could be described as involving unalloyed joy. In an uptight country like England where I grew up alcohol is widely used to disinhibit the pathologically inhibited. We know the real damage caused by alcohol abuse in society. And beyond the psalmist’s association between alcohol and joy our tradition acknowledges other darker sides to alcohol. It can also be used to bring comfort to the afflicted: “Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto the bitter in soul.” (Proverbs 31:6). The Zohar suggests that it eventually brings on sadness. “The truth is that wine rejoices at first and saddens afterwards…” (Zohar Section III, 39a). According to the Tanach, the first person to consume alcohol was Noah in Bereshit Chapter 9. In that episode Noah does not seem to be drinking as an expression of joy – he seems to be trying to blot out his recent experience of seeing the entire world destroyed! The incident ends badly with an obscure allusion to sexual disgrace.

Returning to the issue at hand, is it possible that the prescribed use of alcohol at Purim is more nuanced? Is it possible that the story of Purim contains such painful motifs that we need to blur the boundaries of our reality, to seek some form of oblivion, to escape from or avoid a reality that seems unpleasant or impossible to deal with? Remember that Source 1 seemed to call for a quite extreme form of intoxication - until we cannot tell the difference between “cursed be Haman” and “blessed be Mordecai”. What issues might we be trying to avoid at Purim when we are commanded to seek escape?

Source 4 might point us in a different direction. This passage begins by asking why we don’t sing Hallel on Purim and offers a variety of possibilities. Hallel is normally sung on festivals and its absence on Purim is certainly noteworthy. Various answers are proposed. Rabbi Isaac says that we don’t say Hallel when recalling a miracle that occurred outside the Holy Land. Rav Nachman suggests that the reading of the Megillah constitutes Purim's Hallel so we don‘t need to say the real Hallel too. Rava, however, has a darker reading. He says that it would actually be inappropriate to sing the Hallel on Purim. Hallel contains the words: “Praise you servants of the Lord” (Psalm 113:1) and this does not ring true with our experience at Purim when even at the end of Megillat Esther the Jews are still the servants of Ahasuerus! Rava is telling us that despite all the singing, dancing and general merriment described at the end of Megillat Esther something is still fundamentally wrong with the world that is being described.

What is it that is wrong with that world? On Purim we enter a world where the Jewish community is almost destroyed. Jewish existence is presented as a fragile thing, liable to be swept away by forces beyond its control. A change in government, the rise of a Jew-hater into a position of power, these are enough to threaten the physical existence of Jewry. In the end, the Jews are saved and everyone breathes a sigh of relief, but the fundamental fragility of the Jewish community remains the same. In this tale of Diaspora existence the Jewish people are dependent on highly intelligent but Jewishly invisible coreligionists who have managed, partly by virtue of their assimilation, to work their way into positions of influence over the establishment. Thank goodness for that assimilation for it was only due to the political influence achieved by Mordechai and Esther that Jewry was saved when Haman and his henchmen came to power.

As part of Mordechai’s attempt to gain political influence he encourages his beautiful young niece (or maybe cousin) to have sex with the king and ultimately marry this non- Jewish monarch of dubious moral standing. In an extremely painful discussion in theTalmud (Bavli - Sanhedrin 74b) the rabbis agonize over how Esther could have transgressed basic elements of Jewish sexual morality in public rather than choosing to
die a martyr’s death (Source 5).

Abaye concludes that Esther was “merely natural soil” implying that she was an absolutely passive sexual victim. Rava asserts that the laws requiring martyrdom are different when the Jew is being told to transgress merely for the personal pleasure of the non-Jew rather than as part of a systematic religious persecution. Despite the rabbinic justification of Esther's actions, in the Megillah itself it is clear that the ends justify the means. Mordechai tells Esther that she must use her potent sexuality in order to gain sway over the king and to wield that influence on behalf of the Jewish community. I have heard many a shiur attempting to portray Esther as a potent female image but in the Megillah she looks like a manipulated and manipulating young woman whose only real power resides in her sexuality and her ability to seduce. She certainly does not provide an image of female power that I would be happy to teach to my daughters.

The underlying message for Diaspora Jewry that is contained in the Megillah is that their continuing survival depends on their ability to inveigle themselves into positions close to the sources of true power. That proximity can only be attained by highly assimilated Jews like Mordechai and Esther and it will only lead to influence, not to true power. Such influence can rise and fall in the blink of an eye. Thus it takes constant manipulation and vigilance to ensure its continuity. Mordechai and Esther need to use all the tools at their disposal to stay in favor of the state even if that involves sexual manipulation and the maintenance in power of unpleasant regimes.

Little wonder then that our sources command we drink to excess at this time of year. Excessive drinking blots out the indignity and fear inherent in such a precarious and conditional existence. Is it better to drink than to acknowledge soberly that our heroes and heroines are spies and seductresses, and that however hard we try, our lives will always be left hanging by a thread? Little wonder that our inebriation should be so complete that we cannot tell the difference between ‘cursed be Haman’ and ‘blessed be Mordechai’ when our vulnerability is brought home to us so chillingly.

This takes us back to sources 2 and 3 and our emotional responses to a world of overturning. I suggested at first that we feel joy at Purim simply because the Jews were saved; but surely their experience would have been relief and joy tinged with a strong sense of having been made painfully aware of the world of overturning itself, the world of venahafoch hu, a world where all is turned upside down, a world of real or potential chaos. We may drink joyfully because we are safe for a brief moment, but it is an awareness of the chaotic, capricious, dangerous nature of the world that underpins a really determined quest for inebriation.
L’chaim!

(The sources will be in the next post)

This edition of the Conservative Yeshiva’s E-Shiur is made possible by a generous grant from Temple Zion Israelite Center, Miami, Florida.