Ahz mah (So what)

What does it mean to be generous? We find a subtle teaching about generosity hidden in an unlikely spot in the Torah. Near the end of the biblical book of Exodus, there are a series of detailed instructions for the creation of the portable sanctuary - the mishkan - that the Israelites will carry with them in the wilderness. Many readers skim over this section because it looks like an artisan's technical manual rather than the dramatic stories we are accustomed to reading in the Torah thus far. But look more closely.... The very first instruction for the sanctuary: "God spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the children of Israel, that they may take me a gift; from every person whose heart moves them, you are to take my gift. And these are the gifts: gold, silver, copper, different color yarns, linen, goats hair, animal skins, wood, oil, incense.... And let them make me a holy sanctuary and I will dwell among them." Two surprises in the language: First, notice that the original...

In the Passover haggadah we read: “In every generation a person is obligated to see themselves as if they went out from Egypt.” In other words, we are instructed by the ancient rabbis to relate to the Exodus story as if it were our own personal story. Now the biblical word used to refer to Egypt is mitzrayim , which can be translated as “narrow places.” So you could understand the haggadah’s instruction in this way: We are each obligated to consider our own lives as a journey out of the narrow places. Every year, my preparation for Passover (besides house cleaning!) includes some pondering about what my own particular mitzrayim is right now. I invite you to experiment with this practice, too. Where are you feeling stuck? What experience(s) are feeling difficult and perhaps painful, but which you also sense are propelling you towards freedom? It is no coincidence that Passover occurs in the spring. Spring is a time of birthing, of blossoming, of hope and new possibilities. There are man...

Has anyone ever been mean to you? This week we celebrate a special Shabbat called Shabbat Zachor, the Sabbath of Remembering. On this Shabbat we are required to remember the biggest bully in the Torah. In the lengthy list of instructions to the Israelite people towards the end of the Torah, it says: "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 the rear. Therefore... you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!" It's a strange, paradoxical instruction - blot out the memory of Amalek, AND do not forget. You would think that if you could blot out a memory, you would no longer need to (or want to) remember. But the Israelites are instructed to somehow do both, and every year we are invited to ponder what this might mean to us. We are reminded about Amalek on this Shabbat before the holiday ...