Parshat Ki Tetze

Rabbi Hearshen

What does it mean to be a good person? When we look in the mirror do we see within ourselves goodness or something that gives us pause and hurt? When we are lying in our beds at night and reviewing our days do we feel good about the choices we’ve made, the actions we’ve taken and the words we’ve said? These are all questions that matter. It matters that, as caring and thinking people, we are reflective and able to see where adjustments can and need to be made. We need to be able to steer our own ships and find the times when we need to change course and/or take a different approach. That’s the entire purpose of this time of the year, אלול/Elul, the last month of the year and the month we’re currently in. It’s given to us to spend more intense time looking at our lives and seeing what we have become and figuring out what we want to become. The High Holidays are a gift given to us to have a dedicated time looking at ourselves, our families, our friends, our community, our people and our world to see where things are great and to recognize where we need a new approach and a change.

The word מצוה/mitzvah means commandment. That’s its core and basic meaning. We, as Jews, understand God gave us a gift of 613 commandments to connect with God and to make our world more meaningful and better. We often, mistakenly, assert the word מצוה means good deed. I’ve been arguing against this for quite some time. To put it in plain and simple language, all/most מצות/Mitzvot are good deeds but not all good deeds are necessarily מצות. You know all squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares. It’s the same thing. The reason for this necessary differentiation or distinction is that we need to recognize that, as Jews, we’re obligated to act and behave in a certain way with a uniquely Jewish approach. When we see the actions we perform in their Jewish context, we see our lives as a relationship with God. There’s nothing uniquely Jewish about being a good person. Christians, Muslims, Hindus and all other people have the capacity and ability to be good people. What’s unique about Jews is we have a system in which we live that commands of us a certain set of behaviors, and when we live in such a way, we truly elevate God’s name and place in this world.

פרשת כי תצא/Parshat Ki Tetze is packed with laws about how we live our daily lives. There are numerous rules about marriages, about parenting, about lost objects, and kindness to animals among many other things. The power of our words, and the need for us to be faithful to our vows, is also in this week’s פרשה. One of the מצות that really drives home our value and mission to be good people is found in 24:10 – 15:

כִּֽי־תַשֶּׁ֥ה בְרֵֽעֲךָ֖ מַשַּׁ֣את מְא֑וּמָה לֹא־תָבֹ֥א אֶל־בֵּית֖וֹ לַעֲבֹ֥ט עֲבֹטֽוֹ׃

בַּח֖וּץ תַּעֲמֹ֑ד וְהָאִ֗ישׁ אֲשֶׁ֤ר אַתָּה֙ נֹשֶׁ֣ה ב֔וֹ יוֹצִ֥יא אֵלֶ֛יךָ אֶֽת־הַעֲב֖וֹט הַחֽוּצָה׃

וְאִם־אִ֥ישׁ עָנִ֖י ה֑וּא לֹ֥א תִשְׁכַּ֖ב בַּעֲבֹטֽוֹ׃

הָשֵׁב֩ תָּשִׁ֨יב ל֤וֹ אֶֽת־הַעֲבוֹט֙ כְּב֣וֹא הַשֶּׁ֔מֶשׁ וְשָׁכַ֥ב בְּשַׂלְמָת֖וֹ וּבֵֽרְכֶ֑ךָּ וּלְךָ֙ תִּהְיֶ֣ה צְדָקָ֔ה לִפְנֵ֖י יְהֹוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶֽיךָ׃ {ס}        

לֹא־תַעֲשֹׁ֥ק שָׂכִ֖יר עָנִ֣י וְאֶבְי֑וֹן מֵאַחֶ֕יךָ א֧וֹ מִגֵּרְךָ֛ אֲשֶׁ֥ר בְּאַרְצְךָ֖ בִּשְׁעָרֶֽיךָ׃

בְּיוֹמוֹ֩ תִתֵּ֨ן שְׂכָר֜וֹ וְֽלֹא־תָב֧וֹא עָלָ֣יו הַשֶּׁ֗מֶשׁ כִּ֤י עָנִי֙ ה֔וּא וְאֵלָ֕יו ה֥וּא נֹשֵׂ֖א אֶת־נַפְשׁ֑וֹ וְלֹֽא־יִקְרָ֤א עָלֶ֙יךָ֙ אֶל־יְהֹוָ֔ה וְהָיָ֥ה בְךָ֖ חֵֽטְא׃

When you make a loan of any sort to your compatriot, you must not enter the house to seize the pledge.

You must remain outside, while the party to whom you made the loan brings the pledge out to you.

If that party is needy, you shall not go to sleep in that pledge;

You must return the pledge at sundown, that its owner may sleep in the cloth and bless you; and it will be to your merit before your God יהוה.

You shall not abuse a needy and destitute laborer, whether a fellow Israelite or a stranger in one of the communities of your land.

You must pay out the wages due on the same day, before the sun sets, for the worker is needy and urgently depends on it; else a cry to יהוה will be issued against you and you will incur guilt.

Look at the whole institution of loans and the idea of collateral. We must wait outside for the person to bring the item to us. We cannot keep the pledge overnight because the person needs that item. This isn’t how we see the world today. We don’t worry enough about those who haven’t been blessed in the ways we’ve been blessed. We don’t think about the implications our actions will have on the people around us. When we see this core מצוה and value in our text, it demands we not only adhere to this, but to look deeper and try to see how a rule of this sort would impact our lives. This law exists because it’s very easy to overlook the pain and hurt another person is in when we have power. It’s very easy not be concerned about their situation because we’re already being a good enough person in that we’re helping them. But we need to push ourselves to be better than this. We need to look at those around us who struggle and see what we can do to ease their burdens. We need to look at those around us and not see them as stepping stones for us to climb to greater levels of wealth and stature. We must see that the world we live in is filled with people who need each other and we need to do our part to be there when we’re the ones who are needed.

Parshat Re’eh

Rabbi Hearshen

“You are what you eat…” or so the saying goes. The idea behind the saying has to do with our bodily health being impacted by the foods we eat. Perhaps we could look at the saying as having to do with the styles of foods we eat. Some of us like different ethnic foods and it demonstrates our adventurous nature. Some of us like to have “fancy” food and it demonstrates that we enjoy elevating the ordinary. “You are what you eat…” One thing that we as Jews overlook and take for granted is that we are, perhaps, the originators of the “you are what you are eat” concept of the world.

The idea of keeping kosher has created centuries of people who are connected to each other and God. Many times, we don’t see the inherent value in our food. We look at the ways the food costs more or limits our options. The reality is, that as a people, we have a collective mission of elevating the חול/chol/ordinary to the קודש/kodesh/holy. Jews take a world that’s ordinary and make it special. One need not be in a specific sacred space or doing a specific sacred thing in order to make the world holy. In fact, Jews elevate the world through our sacred acts.

Eating is a simple act. We do it over and over every day. While we think of our daily food intake as being three meals a day – breakfast, lunch and dinner – that’s only part of the story. We eat throughout our days and thus have the minute by minute opportunity to turn the ordinary into sacred. Kashrut is not necessarily an absolute binary. It’s not an all or nothing scenario where you need to be all in or all out. Keeping kosher is a continuum and one we need to be aware of, and appreciative of, at the same time. It’s a journey we need to be on as people, a community and a worldwide population. A number of Jews abstain from certain foods, i.e. pork and/or shellfish. Some Jews stay away from milk and meat together. Some only have kosher meat. Some have kosher homes and eat what they want outside their homes. Some wait 90 minutes, some three hours and some six between eating meat and dairy. All of these are sacred acts that elevate the individual and the community.

We read פרשת ראה/Parshat Re’eh this week. There’s so much to talk about in this parasha, but the main emphasis of ראה is found in a retelling of the laws of kashrut and the holidays. It’s curious that the laws of kashrut appear in so many places throughout the תורה and perhaps the reason is that kashrut is part of the backbone of our people. The תורה speaks about the institution of kashrut so many times because it’s who we are as a people. It speaks about it so much because we elevate the world, and our lives, through this simple changing of the mundane into the sacred.

Embracing the laws of kashrut is one of the most meaningful actions a Jew can bring into their lives. Kashrut elevates our eating to a place where God is a part of our most mundane action we perform each day. We can all be in a conversation with the Divine on a more regular basis through embracing our “you are what you eat” philosophy.

August 8, 2024

Rabbi Hearshen

For the past few weeks we’ve been gathering on Wednesday nights at the synagogue to rehearse as a band for our upcoming performance at the Mitzvot Auction. We’re having lots of fun and I cannot wait for you to come and see us perform, hang out with friends, enjoy some good food, raise money for OVS and get the High Holiday season started. One artist we’re playing is Tom Petty. We’re going to be performing two of his songs. One we’re not playing is “The Wait”. I have been singing the chorus to myself just now, “the waiting is the hardest part”. This lyric makes me think about the painful experience so many of us go through when we have to wait for the inevitable to happen. Sign up to watch us play, enjoy the Keftes dinner, spend time with family & friends and bid on High Holiday honors at orveshalom.org/event/auction2024.  

This week begins the book of דברים/Devarim/Deuteronomy. It’s the last of the five books of the תורה/Torah and it’s the long goodbye of משה/Moses. In the opening chapter he declared he would not be permitted to enter the land of Israel and that the time was fast approaching. In other words, משה was telling us his end was near and that it was only a matter of time.

Many of us have experienced this hardship of watching a loved one die. Waiting for the inevitable is so awful and hard and often times the reality after the death is a different feeling entirely from what we had feared and expected. Every experience is different and so I cannot speak for everyone here. In משה’swaiting to die he imparted to us, the Jewish people, some final thoughts in the form of three speeches. The first of the three began with this week’s פרשה/parshah/portion: דברים. His waiting for the inevitable must have figured prominently into everything he cobbled together to say to the People of Israel. As Tom Petty told us “the waiting is the hardest part”.

We’re all familiar with the painfulness of waiting for something to happen. Often, we find ourselves saying things like “please just get it over with already”. Now we’re sitting glued to our TVs and devices to watch as we wait for the inevitable attack from Iran and its proxies against the State of Israel. This wait is torture and the enemy is well aware of what they’ve managed to do. Airlines worldwide have once again cancelled their flights to Israel. Israelis were stranded on the island nation of Cyprus when an airliner refused to land at Ben-Gurion airport. People are stocking their pantries and their bomb shelters. The entire country is on edge just waiting for something awful to happen. The twisted minds of the enemy are enjoying this and there is little to nothing we can do to put an end to their terror.

I mourn this reality. I mourn that we’re being terrorized and controlled by an enemy with no sense of morality. I mourn that we’re being controlled by an enemy that wants to avenge the assassination of a murderer who was responsible for the deaths of 12 children. I mourn that in spite of us living in a world that seems enlightened and seems to have a mastery over communication, we’re still demonized and isolated by so much of the world. I mourn that antisemitism is still a lesson we’re being forced to learn about day in and out. I mourn that life as a Jew today is not different enough from when our ancestors were kicked out of Spain, England and other countries. It’s not all that different from when our ancestors were forced to convert, murdered and brutalized by people we thought were our neighbors. Yes, we’ve come a long way, but not far enough. The wait for the world to change is simply too hard and too long. “The waiting is the hardest part.”

As a Jewish people, this year has been a very difficult one for us and we need to be together in our response. We need to see that grief is part of being Jewish and part of our response to their ugliness, terror and hate. This Monday night at 8:30 pm, we’ll gather to mourn a world that’s not as it should be. We’ll observe the Jewish day of mourning, תשעה באב/Tisha B’Av at the synagogue. It’s a full day fast, 25 hours long. We’ll also be gathering on Tuesday morning at 8:00 am for Minyan and the reading of the book of איכה/Eicha/Lamentations a second time. This year, it’s more important than previous years to be together and to grieve as Jews. I hope you’ll consider joining us and that you’ll find a way to incorporate the mourning into your day.

August 1, 2024

Rabbi Hearshen

In a normal world, I’d probably be writing about the Olympics today. I might mention the 1972 Munich games and the massacre. I might mention the Israeli delegation and Jewish athletes from around the world and their accomplishments. I might have had the chance to write these words, but those aren’t the words we need today.

The world we live in today is very different than the world we hoped for over the years. Today is day 300 of the war that began on October 7th. This week, we watched in horror as 12 Israeli children were murdered by Hezbollah for playing soccer. 12 children went to do what they should be able to do, enjoy a Saturday evening outside with friends. They went to enjoy life but they’ll never go home. Four of the victims were siblings, and words cannot even begin to express the feelings.

Supporters (enablers) of terror, will tell you Hezbollah hadn’t targeted these kids who were playing soccer. They are likely correct, but what’s also correct is that when you send rockets, they’re bound to hit something and cause devastation. Terrorist groups have been firing rockets at Israel for decades and thankfully Israel has gotten really good at intercepting them and protecting its population. Were it not for the immense amount of time and money Israel’s put into defense, the story would be so different.

Thousands upon thousands of rockets, bombs, and missiles have been fired and it’s only because Israel is defending its citizens that they’ve been able to minimize the toll these weapons take on our people. Undoubtedly, there are those out there who will try to draw a comparison between the death tolls in Israel and Gaza. They’ll assert that Israel is killing children and other innocent people in Gaza on a daily basis. The unfortunate reality is that yes, innocent civilians are dying in Gaza every day. This is awful and something that’s not at all the goal of the Israel Defense Force (IDF), the Israelis and the Jewish People. The aim of the IDF is to eliminate Hamas and bring back our hostages. We cannot help that terrorist’s weapons often fall short and hit their own people. We cannot help that they continue to act as cowards and fire from amongstcivilians and children. Every child that dies is a tragedy. Full stop. We must mourn all victims. But to equate the two is to totally reject reality and what’s been happening since the war began.

The 12 children who died last Saturday did nothing wrong. They were guilty of being citizens of a Jewish State. They were guilty of being in a land that others refuse to accept has legitimacy. May their memories be for a blessing to their families and their friends and to all who were ever blessed to have known them. May their deaths not be in vain and may their families and loved ones know peace and security someday soon.

This week did not just see the deaths of these beautiful children. It also saw the deaths of two terrorists who were hellbent on murdering Israelis and destroying the State of Israel. The world will cry out that Israel is a monster for killing the leaders of the terrorists. This week, we watched as Iran, Russia and China all jumped to condemn Israel. I think we can all agree those are not three countries we should look to for morality or a bar by which to measure ourselves. The leader of the military of Hezbollah had ordered the rockets that murdered those 12 children. Why should he be protected from rockets himself? The leader of Hamas rejoiced on October 7th as our children were slaughtered, our women were raped, our citizens kidnapped… He oversaw a terrorist group with more blood on its hands than can ever be enumerated. That’s the reality. With all that said, it’s essential we recognize that we as Jews don’t celebrate the downfall of our enemies. We rejoice at the prospect that our world might be a bit safer in the long run because they’re gone but we don’t celebrate their deaths.

I wish that was the whole week, but it wasn’t. As much joy as I, we, take from the State and Land of Israel there are also painful realities we need to live with in our world. The IDF is one of the world’s most moral armies. They hold themselves to such a high standard that at times they get in the way of waging war in the most effective of ways. We must always remember it’s the morality of our army that makes our cause just and our society incredible. We also need to recognize that we’re not immune from crimes or from mistakes. Power is a corrupting force, and anger and a thirst for vengeance need to be controlled at all times.

IDF soldiers at a military base prison have been accused of abusing a Palestinian prisoner. This fact alone should be enough to cause us immense pain and hurt. This can never be tolerated and must be investigated. When the military police showed up, things got out of control. In time, protestors, including ministers and members of the Knesset, showed up and broke into the base to prevent the police from investigating and making arrests. Some of the people who broke in came with their personal firearms. Just imagine the catastrophe that could have happened at that moment… The assertion that our Israeli soldiers should be above the law is wrong and morally bankrupt. Our soldiers, on a whole, bring us pride and security but there will always be exceptions. It’s embarrassing and outrageous that our leaders could behave in such a way. The Army will only be strong when it adheres to the values of the State and of the people.

This week was one filled with pain, fear and much more. It’s a week that will have repercussions and we’ll have to wait and see just how deep they will cut.    

July 25, 2024

Rabbi Hearshen

This past Tuesday, we began the period of time known as the “Three Weeks”. Each summer, the Jewish people observe a three-week period of semi-mourning through which we mourn something that, for our ancestors, once existed, and for us was never a reality. To mourn the destruction of the Temples in Jerusalem is to be a Jew and is to be a part of our community that recognizes communal grief matters. In 70 CE, we lost our national identity and our self-determination. When the Second Temple was destroyed, we lost much more than our central religious locale. We lost our heartbeat and our home. There’s no arguing about how the Temple was destroyed as it’s well documented in the historical records. It’s documented in the תנ”ך/TaNaKh/Jewish Bible, in the historical works of Flavius Josephus and in the Roman records as well. The Arch of Titus that was built in the year 81 CE honors the Roman conquest of our Jewish Kingdom and the destruction of our holy sites. It goes so far as to depict the disposition of the spoils, our holy objects. There should be no argument about the facts: the Jews had a semi-autonomous land in the land of Israel, the Jews worshipped in a central place called The Temple, and the Romans destroyed all of this and dispersed the Jews throughout the empire and the world. Nevertheless, there are those who negate this history and we must set the historical record straight whenever possible. One of the most quintessentially Jewish concepts about the destruction however is that we, the Jewish People, had culpability in the disaster.

Throughout rabbinic literature, we find time and again that the rabbis turned the magnifying glass inwardly rather than looking outwardly. This might seem strange but the reality is we cannot grow and improve if we don’t seize the opportunities to do so. We often point our fingers at others for our pain and suffering. We often point to the wrongs of others rather than looking for what we could have done better and, in fact, can do better now and in the future. The rabbis in the תלמוד/Talmud explain that the Second Temple was destroyed because of something called “שנאת חנם/SinatChinam/Baseless Hatred” (Yoma 9b). The rabbis explained that the First Temple had idolatry, lude sexual relationships and murder and thus שנאת חנם is equal to all those sins. Rather than pointing to the fact that the Second (and First) Temples were destroyed by the evil and vileness of the Romans, they look to us to self-improve and find our piece in the trouble. This is very important and something we must do in every generation.

This year, the Three Weeks feel a bit more necessary than in the past. This year we are more intimately aware of, and familiar with, pain and tragedy. After October 7thmany people made comments that we, the Jewish people in general and the Israeli people specifically, were far too divided and thus we were susceptible to such a disaster. There’s something to this line of reasoning that needs to be acknowledged and addressed. The problem was some took this line way too far and asserted that God allowed or caused this to happen as a punishment for this behavior. The problem is also that only one side of the divided people seems to believe this was a problem and that it was caused by the other side. If we really look in the mirror and examine our behavior, we’ll see each of us has a level of culpability in the divided nature of the Jewish people and community.

We were divided into groups since our early days. In the Temple days we had Pharisees, Sadducees and Essenes. Those groups would morph into the rabbinic Jews and non-rabbinic ones. Over time, we would divide ourselves into Sephardic and Ashkenazic and into Hasidic and non-Hasidic Jews. We would divide ourselves into Reform, Conservative and Orthodox. We have divided into secular and religious and into so many other groups. We need to find our sense of unity. We need unity of faith and unity of purpose. One example of this today is the strange phenomenon of anti-Zionist Jews. These are not to be confused with those who have beef with the government of Israel or disagree with certain decisions. The group being addressed here is the group that feels the Jewish people are not entitled to self-determination in their ancestral homeland, Israel. This week in Washington DC a group who calls themselves “Jewish Voice for Peace” violently occupied parts of the Capitol Complex and protested against Israel along with fellow supporters of Hamas. Nobody can argue these people are, in fact, Jews, but they’re not part of the Jewish community when they behave in such a way. They’re not a part of the Jewish people who value Jewish unity and Jewish self-determination. They’re not part of our community when they value the lives of the terrorists over those of our people.

There are 100% legitimate Jewish groups that advocate and work for a two-state solution to the conflict. There are 100% legitimate critiques of the Israeli government and their policies and their handling of this war. All of these things are true. What’s not true is that it’s possible to be a part of the Jewish community if you reject the central tenant of Jewish self-determination in our ancestral homeland… if you identify as an anti-Zionist. When you use a name like “Jewish Voice for Peace” you are being deceptive and misleading. Peace is something the vast majority of Jews around the world crave. Using the word “Jewish” carries great weight and we as a community must call out those who claim to speak in our name when they simply do not.

Our strength is in our unity. Our strength is in our determination and not in our military capabilities. Our strength comes from our convictions that we’re entitled to the same rights as all other nations in the world. We’re entitled to our piece of the pie as much as the next people are. Few of us would argue the Palestinians are not likewise entitled to self-determination and a future. Few of us would argue against a fair and just resolution to the conflict. We are a Jewish community that must look to strengthen our unity rather than do anything to drive a wedge in this unity in the future.

July 19,2024

Rabbi Hearshen

We live in times that many of us never imagined could happen. We live in a world where we have abandoned family and friends because we cannot practice civility and understanding. We live in times where we claim to love but instead we employ words of hate. We live in times where we have chosen division over civility. Today we live in a world where we have created numerous “others” we don’t care for and who we dehumanize on a regular basis. This world we live has many implications, and for the most part, they aren’t positive.

Last Shabbat, as supporters of the previous president of the United States gathered to hear him speak, something unthinkable happened. A man climbed a building with a gun in his hand and, we presume, with hatred and malice in his heart. He opened fire on former President Trump and his supporters. Four people were shot at that time: the former president, two people who were seriously injured and one person who lost his life. Within moments, the Secret Service and law enforcement were able to take out the shooter who was also killed, but not before his reign of terror showered down on the rally in Pennsylvania.

Thankfully, the assassin failed to murder former President Trump, but the damage was severe and something that we can’t merely move forward from. To begin, we need to acknowledge the other victims: Corey Comperatore, a former fire chief who dove to cover and protect his family was killed that day. May his memory be for a blessing. He was guilty of nothing. He woke up that morning and chose to participate in an essential American action of showing support for his political beliefs. Nobody should ever be hurt or killed for what they believe or who they support. David Dutchand and James Copenhaver were also shot that day. Thankfully, they’ve been stabilized and are expected to recover from their injuries. Again, all they did was choose to support the candidate they felt is best for our country. All they did was attend an event to show their support. They were targeted not for who they were as individuals but for a group they belonged to. It’s tragic, it’s wrong, it’s criminal and it’s not the world we should live in.

Former President Trump was shot as well, and by sheer luck, the bullet was mere inches from the target and he survived with a minor injury. The outcome could have been so much worse. Thankfully it wasn’t and that’s something all Americans need to acknowledge. We cannot continue to live in a country that treats the people we don’t agree with as the “other”. We cannot continue to allow our words to be divisive and hateful. We cannot continue to point fingers outwardly and ignore our own complicit behaviors and statements. We’ve gone down a path we need to walk away from before more damage is done. Every one of us is entitled to our political views and to support the people we each think is best for our country and for our values. We don’t have the right to remove the humanity from people who see the world differently.

Balak was a king who had endless amounts of power and yet he lived in fear of the “other”. In this case, the “other” was us, the children of Israel. He was so worried that he hired a professional “curser” to help him to hurt us in some spiritual way. Balak had heard that Bilam was powerful and “who he blessed was blessed and whoever he cursed was cursed”. The parsha goes on to tell of Bilam’s attempts to curse us time and again and that ultimately, he was only able to bless us with the words of מה טובו/MahTovu, “How wonderful are your tents…” We still use these words today to rejoice about how much we’ve built and how wonderful our Jewish world is for us, the Jewish people. It’s essential that we recognize we’re celebrating our joy in who we are and not looking down on others for not being part of our community or our religion.

The phenomenon of “othering” is something that doesn’t end well. When we dehumanize and demonize people, we create a world where violence prospers. When we create a world where we blame the other side for all our ills, we create a society that lacks basic empathy and understanding. We have real differences in our country and in our world. We have real things that divide us and those should be, and are, legitimate things to debate. But when sincere debate turns into personal attacks, we find ourselves in a world that lacks sanctity and basic and fundamental understanding. We’re way too far down this path. We’ve allowed ourselves to be in a society that’s more divided than it is united. Now is the time to slam on the brakes and reverse course. Now is the time to acknowledge the humanity on the other side. Now is the time to fight for the soul of our country and not against each other. Now is the time to reach out to those you disagree with, not to change their minds, but to understand the way they see the world. Now is the time to sit down and talk and acknowledge that the “other” is not the “other”, but is made in the Image of God and has every bit of the same inherent value you have in you.

July 11, 2024

Rabbi Hearshen

Are we ready for what tomorrow may bring us? Do we have our affairs in order? Do we have a chain of succession? Are we even willing to make ourselves prepared to face what’s in front of us now, let alone what will be in front of us in the future? These questions are of great importance in every generation because we’re a people of continuity. We’re a people who live by the value of לדור ודור/L’Dor v’Dor (in each and every generation). Chapter 20 of the book of במדבר/BaMidbar (Numbers) forces us to ask these very questions. From the very beginning of the exodus epic, the beginning of the book of שמות/Shemot (Exodus), we’ve had three leaders that took care of us: משה/Moses, אהרן/Aaron and מרים/Miriam. Those three siblings were each remarkable in all they did for our people. Chapter 20 opens with the death of מרים and continues with the declaration of the eventual passing of the torch from משה as he was declared ineligible to enter ארץ ישראל/the Land of Israel. Before the chapter closes, we learn that אהרן died and thus the entire generation was gone. They could not live forever as our people needed to build a sustainable legacy and be able to stand לדור ודור.

Just how remarkable were משה, אהרן and מרים? The answer is found in an often-referenced piece of the תלמוד בבלי/Babylonian Talmud: Taanit 9a. The תלמוד teaches that because of the merits of the three siblings, we had three miraculous items while in the wilderness: a water well, a pillar of cloud, and manna. The well (which is believed to have traveled with us) was on behalf of the merits of מרים. The pillar of cloud was on behalf of אהרן and the manna was on behalf of משה. The linking of this stems in large part from the death of מרים being right next to the statement that the people of Israel did not have water. The water seems to have disappeared in conjunction with the death of מרים. She had been linked with water so many times and so this makes sense. She watched her brother, משה, as he was in the Nile River. She was one of the only named people in the epic discussion of the crossing of the Red Sea. And now we have this lacking of water after her death.

The three siblings who had been our leaders were dying out and it was time for the people to show they had the ability to keep all of their work going strong. The Jewish People do, indeed, hold the distinction of being the only people from the ancient western world still around today. They managed to pass along their value system and managed to preserve their faith, their heritage and their culture through all of these centuries while all other peoples have disappeared. The decision to continue to move forward and to craft a line of succession is of supreme importance in all families, communities and countries. It’s essential that current leaders be concerned about the leaders of tomorrow. It’s essential that people see the current leaders endorsing, and in fact listening, to the next leaders. Before אהרן died, he was brought up by his brother, משה, and his son, אלעזר/Elazar, to his final resting place and stripped of his sacred vestments. He oversaw his own transfer of power to show he was aware his time was ending and thus gave his blessing to the future. Before משה died in the book of דברים/Devarim (Deuteronomy), he publicly appointed יהשוע/Joshua time and again. This is, simply put, an essential element for us to emulate and to make a part of our core being.

Concern about a people and a community means to be concerned not only about the now, but also about the future. It means being aware and cognizant of the real need for the community to go on even after we’re gone. To lay the groundwork for a future without us might feel scary and might be something we want to push to the side, but it’s the only way to assure we remain an eternal people who remain in a relationship with God that’s existed all the way back to the days of משה, אהרן and מרים.

 

Parshat Korach

Rabbi Hearshen

We returned from Camp Ramah Darom on Sunday afternoon and it’s great to be back. We love our time at Camp each summer and reconnecting with friends and a place that’s a second home to us. We love the opportunity to witness the future of the Jewish people unfolding right in front of us. We love seeing our daughters smiling from ear to ear as they’re immersed in a Jewish environment and given so many meaningful and fun opportunities. I thank all of you for affording me this annual opportunity to reinvigorate my soul and my spirit and my passion.

Now onto the Parsha. Who was Korach? He was a Levite. He had an uncle named Amram (who had a son named Moses) and thus his cousins were Aaron, Miriam and Moses. He was a member of the leadership class of the Israelite people. He was a persuasive man who led other leaders in a rebellion against the leadership of the people (his own family members). We should attempt to understand the psychology of Korach to better understand where his actions came from. Why would someone who’s so close to the leaders act in such a way? Why would someone who’s related to the other people in charge behave like this? What’s behind his demands and what’s behind his drive? Is it merely a thirst for power? Is it merely his need to be in charge of all other people? Both of these might be true of him but they’re not at the core of his actions. Korach was power hungry and was unable to live in a world where he wasn’t all powerful. Beneath this thirst/hunger for power, was a man who couldn’t be content with what he had and who he was.

We learn in פרקי אבות/Pirkei Avot 4:1 איזהו עשיר? השמח בחלקו./Who is wealthy/happy? The one who is happy with their portion. True wealth or happiness comes from contentment. It comes from a person being able to close their eyes at night without worrying about other people having something that they don’t have. Too few of us have this ability. Too many of us look in the mirror and see what we’re not rather than seeing what we are. Too many of us look in the mirror and see what we don’t have rather than what we do have. Contentment is a gift and something we need to pursue with all we have. We need to be able to see we’re blessed with so many gifts and so many treasures. It’s a sad truth about the world we live in when we constantly look at our lives as lacking so much.

Each of us needs to open ourselves up to being happy with all we have. Each of us needs to recognize there’s so much wealth available to us. Each of us needs to be able to look at our lives and be able to simply say the words: thank you. When more and more of us are able to be content, fewer of us will recognize Korach and his psychology. When more of us are able to smile at the person in the mirror, we’ll be more like Moses, Aaron and Miriam and share in all they achieved in their lifetimes.

June 27, 2024

Rabbi Gutierrez

Anyone with even a limited understanding of Jewish prayer knows well that our prayers are very “fixed,” as in scripted and liturgical. On the surface, it would seem that the model of praying with a liturgy gives little room for the interjection of one’s own personal and heartfelt prayers. This being the case, it’s fair to ask, “What place do my own personal prayers have in a fixed, liturgical prayer?” 

Rabbi Shimon said: Be careful with the reading of the Shema and prayer. And when you pray, do not make your prayer fixed, but a plea for mercy and supplication before God blessed is He as it is said, “For He is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger, abandoning in kindness, and renouncing punishment.” 

And do not be wicked in your own esteem.


In this Mishnah from tractate Pirkei Avot, Rabbi Shimon cautions us against making our prayers “fixed,” or “standardized.” According to Maimonides, Rabbi Shimon is teaching us that one should not feel as though their prayer is a heavy burden upon them, so much so that they consider prayer to be a chore that they are commanded to do at certain times and then are free from.   

However, fixed prayer has many rules about what, when, and how the prayers are to be said. How can one practice this type of prayer day in and day out and not eventually feel as though it is a burden, or chore, that one wants to get over with as quickly as possible? Wouldn’t it be better then for prayer not to be fixed, but only personal?

Before we completely discount the relevance of our fixed liturgy though, it must be stressed that our liturgy is full of beautiful and poetic language that expresses our national aspirations with words of praise, request, and thanksgiving. While it’s true fixed prayer has many rules, it’s also true that concentrating on its words and endeavoring to internalize its timeless messages can be a deeply spiritual exercise. Additionally, fixed liturgical prayer allows us to gather for public worship in a way personal prayer can’t. What would public worship look like if we all only said our own personal prayers?

So, how are we supposed to reconcile this? Rabbi Hayim David Halevy, basing himself on much earlier traditions, teaches that anyone who wants to add their own personal prayers into the middle blessings of the Amida prayer may do so. The middle blessings of the Amidah constitute all of the blessings between the first three and last three blessings. For example, if one was in need of a livelihood then they can make their personal requests for one in birkat ha’shanim, which is the blessing where we ask God for a fruitful year. Or another example, if one is in need of healing then they can make their requests in birkat refa’enu, which is the blessing where we ask God for healing. Rabbi Halevy also teaches that one may insert any of their own personal prayers to God in the blessing shomeah tefillah, which is the blessing where we ask God to hear our prayers. If one were to adopt this practice, then what they would do is recite the blessing as it is in their siddur like they always do, but before concluding with, say, baruch attah Hashem rofeh cholei amo Yisrael (blessed are You Lord who heals the sick among your people Israel), they would say their own personal prayers for healing at that time. The practice of incorporating our own prayers into the Amidah can enhance our prayer experience by allowing us to benefit from both the fixed communal prayer as well as our own personal prayers.

Rabbi Nachman of Breslav, the last Rebbe of the Breslav chassidic dynasty, taught his followers a very special prayer practice. Hitbodedut, which means “self isolation,” is the practice of secluding oneself from the noise of the world to the fullest extent possible in order to speak to God from the heart in one’s own language. It’s a type of meditation in which, ideally, the one praying strives for a deep and abiding personal connection with their Creator as they pour out their heart to God using their own words. Rebbe Nachman encouraged his chassidim practice hitbodedut for at least an hour a day. Finding an entire hour to do this could be very challenging, but maybe we could find five or ten minutes to do so?

Perhaps the answer to our question of what place do our personal prayers have in a fixed liturgical prayer can be discovered in finding the right balance between personal and fixed prayers. Maybe prayer is best expressed when we combine our personal prayers with our fixed liturgy like Rabbi Halevy teaches. This practice allows us to align our national aspirations with our personal ones. Also, it’s important to remember that all of our prayers need not be read from a siddur. We can speak to God from our hearts and in our own words whenever we decide to make the time.

 

Parshat Behalotecha

Natalie Geuli

The name of this week’s parsha, Behalotecha, translates to “when you raise”, in reference to the lamps of the menorah in the Mishkan (Tabernacle) that Aaron is commanded to raise. God instructs Moses on the procedures for Israel’s journeys and encampments in the desert, and they journey from Mount Sinai where they camped for nearly a year, to receive the Torah. The Israelites become displeased with their manna (bread from heaven), and demand Moses supply them with meat. To me, it seems incredulous that after camping at Sinai for that long while preparing to receive the Torah, and after everything they witnessed coming out of Egypt, they would complain about something as basic as their sustenance which was literally supplied from the sky!

At one point in this parsha, Miriam speaks negatively about Moses and is punished with the skin disease of tzaraat (leprosy). Thanks to Moses’ prayers she was cured, but still needed to remain isolated outside the camp for seven days. Aaron had listened to her negative speech without objecting and so too was punished, but not as severely. Again, the subject of negative talk is raised and is physically reproached with a visible and embarrassing skin disease. Have the Israelites learned anything from this?

Unfortunately, the spies who were sent to Israel soon afterwards did not learn a lesson, and they too spoke negatively, this time about the land of Israel. The result was the Israelites of that generation didn’t merit entry into the land of Israel and died in the desert. I don’t understand how the spies could have negative things to say about the Promised Land after having been in the desert for so long.

This recurring theme of consequences for negative talk is pretty obvious. Known as lashon hara (bad speech), it’s a sin that’s caused many tragedies for the Jewish people, and indeed the world, since the beginning of human social interaction. The modern version of lashon hara can take many forms in today’s world, whether on social media or gossip that’s spread amongst social groups. The rampant antisemitism we’ve seen spreading openly and unrebuked in the last 8 months is an especially vile form of lashon hara, which has very real and dangerous ramifications. We’ve been witnessing the violence, hatred, the libels and their ensuing isolation and asking ourselves how this is possibly happening again.

Other than our Jewish communities lamenting about this modern lashon hara amongst ourselves, are any of us really doing anything about it? The fight to stop the spread of these lies that so negatively impact our communities and threaten Israel’s very existence today requires courage. We’ve been so fortunate to find ourselves in the Promised Land for the past 76 years, but are we taking it all for granted again and risking it all?

I would argue the answer to what we’ve been witnessing these past months is obvious, but certainly not easy. We need to “raise” ourselves, metaphorically, just as the lamps were raised to light up the Mishkan. More literally, as part of the OVS Jewish community living in the diaspora in 2024, we need to decide what’s really important to us and act on it. How are we “lighting up” our homes? Is it by continuing to instill Jewish values in our children and leading by example? Is ensuring the next generation knows their heritage, is familiar with their unique culture, can read Hebrew prayers and speak the mother tongue that was miraculously resurrected in the late 19th century important to us? Are we making every effort to support Israel in this long and necessary war against evil, not just monetarily, but perhaps more importantly, with our words and actions? Are we standing up for what’s right, not only amongst our communities but so the entire world can see we’re not deterred by current events? Will we continue to “light up” our community by showing up for one another, whether at services to make a minyan or at family programs to ensure our children know who they are in a world where it’s much easier to assimilate and keep quiet? We need to ensure this generation doesn’t die in the figurative desert.

I’m certain the answer to all the lashon hara and negativity we’ve seen is to truly practice what’s important to us in theory. I’m excited and hopeful to see you and your families at OVS “Behalotecha” the community.