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Keeping an Open Mind

What does it mean to go into a situation with an "open mind"? Is it possible, or do we always enter a situation with some idea of how we imagine things ought to turn out and how we will benefit? In the biblical book of Numbers, there is a famous story of the prophet Bilaam. Balak king of Moav sends persuasive messengers to Bilaam, requesting that he come and curse the Israelite tribe that is camped nearby. Balak is fearful of the power of these Israelites, and hoping for some supernatural assistance in getting rid of them. You may be familiar with the comic scene in which Bilaam's donkey three times attempts to save her master from a sword-wielding angel to which he is somehow oblivious. Three times Bilaam punishes her for straying off the path, and finally God opens the donkey's mouth and she expresses her frustration at being maltreated. They quarrel briefly, until suddenly God uncovers Bilaam's eyes, and he sees the terrifying vision of the angel right in front...

Reminders of what matters

One of my projects right now is making a new prayer shawl for the warmer weather. The prayer shawl that we wear, called a tallit, is distinguished by its elaborately tied fringes on the four corners. It happens that the biblical instruction from which we derive this custom appears at the end of last week's Torah reading: "God spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the Israelite people and instruct them to make for themselves tsitsit (fringes) on the edges of their garments.... Look at it, and recall all the commandments of God, and observe them, so that you do not follow after the desires of your heart and your eyes." So originally the instruction was to wear these tsitsit all the time, on one's garment where they could be looked at. Nowadays, you may have seen Orthodox men with tsitsit visible. (Others keep them tucked in.) I also know some non-Orthodox men, and even a few women, who wear them every day too, because of this ancient commandment. All of this reminds me of th...

A thank-you, from the May newsletter

To raise a child in America today is a daunting task. To raise a child with a deep, positive sense of Jewish identity is even more daunting. It is for this reason that I want to honor a group of people in our community who play a crucial role in this process, and yet who are least often thanked - and they are the non-Jewish parents who are supportive of their children being raised Jewish. You encourage and support your children's participation in the life of the Jewish community through attending Community Learning, Shabbat and holiday services, and other temple activities. By your actions you are teaching your children the value of being raised in a faith tradition; I also imagine that at home they are learning respect for the tradition in which you were raised, and in which your extended family lives. Please know that your loving support and trust are deeply appreciated by the Jewish community, and that you are giving a precious gift to your children and to the world.

Receiving our instructions

Spring is a favorite time for weddings. In the Jewish tradition, the ultimate wedding celebration happens in springtime. On the festival of Shavuot - May 19-20 this year - we celebrate the anniversary of the "marriage" of the Jewish people with God. The ketubah/marriage contract is the Torah. Like many Jewish holidays, Shavuot has multiple meanings. It is first mentioned in the ancient biblical text as a harvest festival. After the destruction of the ancient Temple made the bringing of agriculture offerings impossible, the early rabbis linked the festival to the giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai. The days from Passover until Shavuot are counted down to parallel the Israelites' journey out of slavery and into the wilderness to receive the Torah. What happened at Mount Sinai? We will never know. But we don't need to know in order to benefit from the deep teachings our tradition has developed around this holiday. Shavuot is known as "Z'man matan Torateinu,...

It's all about balance

The Torah is full of sibling stories. Cain and Abel, Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau, Joseph and his brothers and sister, just to name a few. Plenty of tension and jealousy, and occasionally reconciliation and respect and even love. Just like in real families. Precisely at the half-way point in the Torah stands a powerful story of two brothers that is much less well known. In our cycle of annual Torah readings, we are in the middle of the book of Leviticus, the central of the five books of Moses. The ultimate goal of the Levitical system has been achieved: The sacrificial system is up and running, and the glory of God's presence descends to dwell among the Israelite people. However, in the process of making that happen there has been a human tragedy - two of Aaron's sons, Nadav and Avihu, bring "alien fire" into the holiest part of the sanctuary without being instructed to do so, and a fire blazes up and consumes them. At the moment of their death, Moses - brother o...