From the Rabbi

 Today’s thoughts of our Torah reading, Yitro, were inspired by our very special guest last week, Rabbi Naftali Citron, who talked beautifully about finding God in – and out – of nature.

Seeing is believing,” we say, knowing there is nothing so convincing as the power of sight. “Don’t you see?” we say to those who disagree with us, until they concede, “Alright, I see what you mean!” We shouldn’t be surprised, then, to be told that divine thunder and lightning accompanied God’s appearance on Mt. Sinai, and that “The people saw the sounds and the lightning.”

But how could they see sounds? Sound is what you hear, not what you see. And sounds of what? Thunder, presumably, but the Torah just says “sounds.” What sounds were they, and how can sound be visible? Some Kabbalistic commentators explain things literally. Kabbalist Moses God altered the state of nature to imbue the Israelites’ ears with sight. Maybe…but I prefer an answer rooted in close textual reading.

The Ten Commandments are given in Chapter 20: 1-14, and the information that “the people saw the sounds and the lightning” comes immediately afterward (20:15). But the thunder and lightning occur beforehand — part of God’s appearance on the mountain (19:16). Why did the people “see the sounds” a whole chapter later, only after Torah was revealed?

That the people “saw the sounds” only after revelation is the key, because we really do see sounds when they are written down as text. When we read, for example, we do so with at least some implied cadence to our inner voice. We raise and lower our voice as you read a sentence; we emphasize words in italics. You actually see sounds in the written words. The “sounds” that the Israelites saw were not God’s thunder, but God’s words of Torah that Moses heard and then wrote down. Maybe Moses enjoyed revelation directly from God’s mouth, but everyone else gets it only as writing.

Judaism insists that God’s word is still best accessed through the sounds that we see: our sacred texts. People searching for God often look to the miracles of nature: the Grand Canyon, a starry night, the intricacies of the human body. Our tradition tell us that the way to God is study of our texts. We study, debate, and form conclusions from what we read.

On a clear day, you can see forever, goes the saying. It is possible, though, to see forever in the fogginess of text: an opaque piece of Talmud with its Rashi, Tosafot, Rabbenu Asher, and all the other greats of Jewish tradition. We can see their presence in the text loud and clear as if we are in the same room with them.

Shabbat shalom…and see you in shul! 

Rabbi Yaakov Chaitovsky

Our Torah reading this morning described that historic moment when, after 210 years of slavery, God informs them that He is going to take them out, “mitachat sivlot mitzrayim – from under the yoke and suffering of the Egyptians.” But, as we know, no sooner did they see Pharaoh and the Egyptians pursuing them when they left, they cry out, “Let's go back to Egypt!”  And then comes the crossing of the Red Sea. No sooner do they run out of water then they cry out, “Let's go back to Egypt!” 

This is why the Kotzker Rebbe read the words: “From under the yoke and suffering of the Egyptians” a bit differently. “Sivlot,” which we translate as “suffering” can also have another meaning. It comes from the Hebrew root s.v.l. meaning “patient,” or tolerant.” The Jews had to be taken out from the mindset they had developed in Egypt; a mindset of being patient, a mindset of: well, it's not so bad, could be worse … as bad as it is we can manage through it … who knows if it'll ever get any better … let's just continue with things just the way they are.

Indeed our sages make a remarkable commentary and tell us no Jewish slave ever escaped out of Egypt. On a simple level, this is telling us the Egyptians had such a powerful security system that made escape impossible. But on a deeper level, it means that none of the Jews ever attempted to escape. They developed this attitude of: better the devil I know than the one I may have to meet and adjust to. So God had to take the Jews “mitachat sivlost mitrayim” - had to take them out of a complacent mindset that accepted things just the way they were.

Let’s all think about the areas of our lives where complacency and inertia have conspired to prevent true improvement and growth – professionally, personally, and of course, spiritually. Let’s take ourselves “out of that mindset”, and like the Israelites before us, journey to where will experience our best selves, in every sphere of activity and endeavor.

Shabbat shalom

Why Do You Look So Sad?

In our parsha, Vayeishev, we are introduced to Yosef, described as the favorite son of Yaakov. We see that Yosef is the recipient of special treatment and special gifts – the “coat of many colors”, a shimmering garment that indicated an almost royal status. Yosef’s behavior at the start of the parsha makes us wince – he tattles on his brothers and he behaves arrogantly to them. The coat he wears vexes his brothers. His wild dreams scare them and even make Yaakov cautious. Without excusing the brothers or the horrible thing they did, Yosef seems like a bratty, entitled kid.

Later on though, we see a marked change in Yosef. Rabbi Emanuel Feldman notes that when Yosef, who by then was “famous” prisoner of Pharaoh – a former Chief Executive to a prominent Egyptian family - encountered the baker and butler in prison, he asks them an important question: Why do you look so sad today?

That a prisoner of high stature would notice someone “beneath him” is startling enough, but, as Rabbi Feldman points out, Yosef did not simply say “hello, how are you” – he inquired, deeply and meaningfully, “why do you seem so sad today?”

Noticing the other – to express concern for someone else – is a very Yosef-esque thing to do. Rabbi Feldman develops this theme across Yosef’s life, ultimately offering an answer to the vexing question of why Yosef was never able or willing to send a message to his father to let him know he is alive - simply, Rabbi Feldman suggests, so as not to “risk unleashing [Yaakov’s] wrath upon his brothers.

With Chanukah starting this coming Wednesday night, the special light of the Chanukiah will fill our homes and will reflect out beyond the windows of our houses. Let that special light translate into the light of concern for others  - those closest to us, of course, and those with whom we interact in even the most casual or minimal way.

Shabbat Shalom…Chanukah Sameach!

Field and Tent

This week’s Torah portion has been among my favorite readings for some time now. It tells the story of Yitzchak and Rivka and their two children, Eisav, the older, and Yaakov, the younger. “And the youths grew up, and Eisav was a skilled hunter, ish sadeh, a man of the field, and Yaakov was an ish tam, a wholesome man, yoshev ohalim, dwelling in tents” (Bereishit 25:27).

These descriptions are easy to dismiss as window dressing or simple verbal flourishes. But a careful student of Torah would pause for a moment and ask – why is the Torah sharing these particular descriptions? This is an apt question to ponder especially when we recall some other instances of sadeh/field and ohel/tent in the Torah.

The Torah seemingly highlights a fundamental difference between Yaakov and Eisav. Eisav was a hunter, destined to disdain his covenantal role and the responsibilities of being the eldest. He would marry Hittite women causing grief to both his parents. This man of the field plotted to kill his brother. He would be following in the ways of Kayin, who killed his brother when “they were in the field”

Yaakov, on the other hand, dwelt at home in his tent. He understood that a life of morality requires restrictions, and study. Years later G-d would speak to Moshe from the tent of the mishkan and Bilaam, seeing the tent homes of the Jewish people, would praise their way of life. Eisav’s association with the field seems to underscore the trajectory his life took. Yaakov’s association with tents directly connects to the direction his life took.

There are probably many reasons for the stark differences between the twin brothers and the opposite paths in life they traveled. Indeed, our Jewish commentators through the ages have offered various understandings. Those commentaries are almost always based on something in the text of the Torah that caught their eye and spurred their imagination.

To get a taste of this approach to reading Torah, join me for a three week exploration of attention getting words and phrases in the Book of Genesis called First Things First – where we will explore a series of “firsts” – including first love, first death, first dream, first hate. We will meet on Tuesdays December 10, 17 and 24. Stay tuned for more complete information.

Shabbat shalom…and of course, see you in shul!

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Special announcement - Shabbat afternoon Mincha and Maariv

The shorter Shabbat afternoons at this time of the year make gathering for mincha at the typical 4 or 4:15 pm time a challenge. We are experimenting with holding mincha services in the chapel at 12:35 pm, after our kiddush. This will make it easier for people to enjoy a more leisurely Shabbat lunch and afternoon. We hope you will join us!

Creation-why did God put us here?

   Here we go again, starting all over from the beginning, in fact that’s what that word means             “B’reysheet-At first or In the Beginning.” How fascinating that something that seems to have no concrete beginning and no known end, we say is how this all started.

   Perhaps, we are speaking about a spiritual beginning. Until mankind was created, there was no animal capable of truly recognizing HaShem in the universe. Everything up until the sixth day of creation, was what was necessary for God‘s final act, and that was to create human beings.

   It is no wonder that when Adam and Eve when firmly were presented with two trees that they were not allowed to eat from, one which promised immortality and the other knowledge, they ate from the tree of knowledge. How interesting that humans would rather know each other and the world around them, more importantly than LIVING FOREVER.

   Whether we actually could ever have chosen immortality, it would be useless to live forever and not know anything. I think that is the essence of living and being alive. It is to know about things around us and more importantly to know other people. That is why when it says that Adam and Eve conceived a child, it says that Adam “Yadah et Chavah,” yes, that Adam knew Eve. What an incredible idea, that to produce a child that will help to “perfect” the world, otherwise known as Tikun Olam, the two people must truly know each other.

   Then we are confronted by the first two children in the world Cain and Abel, two brothers who choose different paths in life. One Abel becomes a herder of cattle and the other a farmer. I am pretty sure that we are not supposed to take these stories quite literally, although many would disagree. You all know what happens next. When God accepts Ablel’s offering and tells Cain to try again, Cain rises up and strikes his brother and kills him.

   If you know the history of the Jewish people and our relationship with our brothers and cousins, the people of the Arabic world, you know it has not been a good one. The difference is that Cain immediately realizes that he has done something terribly wrong. At first, he tries to hide it and speaks the famous words “where is your brother Cain? I don’t know, am I my brother‘s keeper.”

   In that same discussion, Cain flips 180° and says to God, I realize how terrible it is what I did, I will be marked for the rest of my life and anyone who comes after me will try to kill me. The Torah in its own brilliant way, teaches us the first act of Teshuvah and the first act of forgiveness Selichah. Cain says to God I was wrong!! God then puts a mark on him that tells people do not kill this man for his wrongdoing.

  Obviously, murder is not acceptable, even if you’re sorry. I think the point of the story is that in the world that you live in at the time, most things short of murder can find a way towards forgiveness. We are coming to the end of the High Holy days. Although the proverbial gates of Heaven are closing for this year, we know from the immediate next Torah portion that God has our backs and would rather us do wrong and come back, then to not live at all.

Have a great beginning everyone. Every day is another one to try to do well and to change the world for better.

Shabbat shalom, Cantor Marty