Mosaic is a unique Jewish Community - in that we offer at least three weekly and festival services from the Liberal, Masorti and Reform traditions. After our services we get together for joint kiddushim, and offer study sessions before or after some of our services.
Shabbat comes in at 8:36 pm and goes out at 9:45 pm _____________________________________________________________________________
Until this point in Moses’s first speech, he has described how the Israelites reached the border of Canaan. Now, he addresses the people’s future life inside Israel, and the laws they must obey in order to merit entry and residence in the Promised Land.
First and foremost, Moses warns the people: ”You shall not add anything to what I command you or take anything away from it” (Deut. 4:2), in several different ways. Some commentators explain it as a blanket prohibition against breaking any of the laws taught by Moses or adding new ones.
The medieval French commentator known as Chizkuni applies this prohibition, to add or subtract, to one specific issue: the exclusive worship of God. According to this interpretation, Moses is warning the people not to repeat a mistake that had been made earlier when the Israelites were seduced into following pagan practices.
Chizkuni teaches that “Do not add . . . or take anything away” means that one may not nullify one’s singular loyalty to God by worshipping additional gods. Therefore there may be cases where we can add to, or subtract from the law – but we must always believe that God is not just the most powerful deity, but the only God.
Our parasha is always read on the Shabbat directly preceding Tisha B’av (which begins this Saturday night) — the day in which we commemorate the destruction of the Temples in Jerusalem.
Both the Torah reading and the haftorah this week contain the word “Eicha” which is the name of the reading (Lamentations in English) we do on Tisha B’Av.
The prophet Isaiah cries out “Eichah/How” about the entire city of Jerusalem — “How has she [Jerusalem] become a harlot! This faithful city that was full of justice . . . is now full of criminals”
In contrast, the “Eichah” of Moses is an individual’s cry of pain. Moses, the leader, is feeling alone (like Jerusalem in Lamentations) overwhelmed by the burdens of his office. Rashi suggests that the most frustrating part of his job is the idle gossip the people regularly spread about him. According to the Midrash that Rashi cites — if Moses came out of his house early, people would say, ‘Why is Moses so early?Perhaps he is having family problems at home.’ If Moses were to come out late from his tent, they would say, ‘Moses stays home longer in order to devise negative plans against you.’ ”
Rabbi Zelig Pliskin writes in Growth Through Torah, that someone with a tendency to judge people negatively will always find ways to see faults in others. One can always find some negative motivation or interpretation for the behavior of others.
..or we can seek out positive ways to interpret other’s behavior. Rabbi Pliskin writes: “The way you interpret events has more to do with your character traits than it does with the reality of what someone else is like — and, the more good you see in others, the better you yourself will feel.”
Shabbat Shalom — and a meaningful fast for those fasting on Sunday.
At the end of last week’s parasha, Pinchas, the grandson of Aharon the Kohen, saw the leader of the tribe of Shimon and the daughter of the king of Midian acting promiscuously. Pinchas took a spear in his hand, followed the Israelite man into the tent and pierced them both…and a plague that was afflicting the children of Israel at that point ended.
At the beginning of this week’s parasha, Pinchas, we read: “God spoke to Moshe saying: ‘Pinchas, the son of Elazar, the son of Aharon the Kohen turned back my anger from upon B’nai Yisrael, when he zealously avenged Me among them, so that I did not consume B’nai Yisrael with My vengeance. Therefore tell him that I give him My covenant of peace. It shall be for him and his descendents after him a covenant of eternal kehunah (priesthood) because he took vengeance for his God and he atoned for B’nai Yisrael.’”
The rabbis of the Jerusalem Talmud state that the religious leaders at the time were not happy with what Pinchas did and wanted to excommunicate him. They did not appreciate religious extremism. Therefore God HAD to immediately declare that Pinchas did the right thing. The message is clear: We are not allowed to act alone with religious zeal.
Balak, the leader of the Ammonites wants to curse the Israelites, so he offers the sorcerer Bilam boundless treasure to get the job done. The only trouble is, Bilam cannot just do whatever he pleases, he is bound by his relationship to God, and he is bound to the instructions he receives from God. Three times, to Balak’s chagrin, all Bilam can do is bless God’s people.
Bilam utters an interesting line which has taken on such importance that it is one of the first things we traditionally say upon entering a synagogue. “Ma Tovu Ohalecha Ya’akov,” “How fair are your tents, Ya’akov.” Rashi (11th century, Troyes) comments that Bilam found the tents noteworthy because “he saw their entrances not turned toward one another.” In that final blessing, Bilam recognized what is not so hard to understand. We all know how important having personal space can be. We all know that taking space for ourselves is critical for maintaining our psycho-spiritual health.
We don’t want our neighbours looking in on our private lives, so we grow our hedges high and we build our fences up, and there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, there is something profound about setting our neighbours up for success and not putting a stumbling block before the blind. By building our fences up, by turning our tent opening away from our neighbor’s opening, we help maintain healthy social boundaries.
It is not only important to know how to maintain our own boundaries, it is important not to pry into one another’s lives. Beside literally looking into one another’s homes, there are many ways in which we can invade each other’s privacy.
In Parsha Chukat, we read: “And the Canaanite King of Arad who lived in the Negev heard that the B’nai Yisrael had come by the route of Atarim, he fought against Yisrael and took some of them as prisoners.”
Why weren’t the Canaanites afraid to attack the Israelites, knowing that God had rescued them from Egypt and split the Red Sea for them?
According to modern commentator Nehama Leibowitz, the Canaanites knew what God had done for the Israelites, but they were emboldened because the Israelites showed their lack of confidence in themselves and in God by sending the spies.
It’s hard to fault the Israelites for wanting to know what they would encounter in the Land, but I agree that confidence is so important a factor that it can, at times, even trump actual ability. A teacher, lawyer, parent, doctor, or advisor who speaks with assuredness inspires trust. The children of Israel lacked confidence, so despite their abilities and their alliance with God, they were defeated.
As the summer approaches, my wife and I have started giving our children advice on how to survive and flourish at camp. We say: “Always try to be helpful to the counsellors, they have to deal with a lot of kids.” “Don’t leave your wet towels on your bed, you have to hang them up or they will get mouldy.” And, “Don’t hang out with the kids who are troublemakers.”
In Parsha Korach, Rashi notes that the Reuvenites hung out with the Kohathite clan to which Korach belonged. Why are the Reuvenites considered bad company? You may recall that back in Egypt, one of Jacob’s last acts was to demote Reuven from his clan position as first-born (which came with leadership and inheritance privileges) because Reuven had taken Bilhah, Jacob’s maidservant/concubine to his own bed, in violation of Jacob’s status and rights.
So the Reuvenites were denied a leadership role by Jacob. Korah himself felt deprived of leadership by Moshe. It is not hard to imagine the Reuvenites and Korah grumbling and plotting together. Rashi comments, “Woe to the evil one, and woe to his neighbour!” ( Num. 16:1). My wife, Riki, and I told our children, “stay away from the bad kids because you can sometimes get into trouble just by being near someone who is doing the wrong thing.” And of course, “A person is judged by the company he keeps.”
Mazel Tov to Edwin Lucas and his daughter Gillian Lucas on their birthdays. They are delighted to invite the Hatch End Masorti Synagogue congregation to join them for Kiddush at the Girl Guide Headquarters, after the service to celebrate this special occasion.
In Parsha Shelach Lechah, Moishe sends spies to search out the land of Israel. This is the first step leading to the conquest of the land.
Maimonides points out that the holiness of the Israelites in the land continued for as long as we remained in the land. Once Israel was destroyed by the Babylonians, the holiness ceased.
Interestingly, he states that when we returned to the land, with the permission of King Cyrus of Persia, seventy years later, the holiness became eternal, continuing even after Israel was destroyed by the Romans.
Why was the first holiness finite and the second eternal?
Maimonides suggests that the distinction lies in the way we acquired the land. Conquering the land through military means lasted for as long as we were the conquerors. Once we were conquered, the holiness came to an end. Peacefully settling the land as we did in the time of King Cyrus, the holiness was more powerful and had the capacity to
continue on.
Beyond any political message, this message has import for our everyday lives. What do we acquire through power and what do we acquire through negotiation and consensus ? Which is everlasting?
Mazal tov to Mosaic Reform member, Brandon Graft, on his Bar Mitzvah. Brandon’s family is delighted to invite the congregation to join them for Kiddush at Bessborough Road, after the service to celebrate this special occasion.
When we take the Torah from the Ark we recite verses that appear in this week’s portion
Behalotecha.
“When the Ark was to begin journeying, Moshe would say, ‘Arise, Adonai; may Your enemies be scattered, and may Your foes flee before you.’ And when it came to rest, [Moshe] would say, ‘Return, Adonai, You who are the myriads of thousands of Israel’.”
(Num 10:35-36)
Former Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks notes that this passage is “A description of the Ark during the journeys of the Israelites in the Wilderness. The verse ‘When it came to rest’ is recited when the Torah is returned to the Ark. Thus the taking of the Sefer Torah from the Ark and its return recall the Ark of the Covenant which accompanied the Israelites in the days of Moses.”
There is something deeply psychological about this re-enactment. Evidently, it is not enough for us to have laws to guide our moral and spiritual development. We recite verses and act out our journey with the Torah each time we read from it, because we feel the need to be reminded where laws came from and how G-d cared for us in the desert. We need to be reminded of love past and present.
Shabbat comes in at 8.51 pm; goes out at 10.09 pm.
In Parshat Naso we read of Nazirites. The Kohen and the Levi are like those born with a title, or into a wealthy family. The idea of the Nazirite was to permit the ordinary Israelite to devote him or herself to God, even if not a born a priest or Levite. The Torah specifies that this vow may be taken by “anyone, man or woman” (Numbers 6:2).
Women did not function within the Tabernacle as priests or Levites, but they were judges, prophets and Nazirites. Thus the desire of women to attain greater levels of holiness and closeness to God was recognised and given an outlet. They were not to be excluded from religious experience.
There is a great wisdom in the Jewish tradition that recognises that we need room in society both for those born into privilege, and for those who can choose to work hard to earn their titles and privilege.
Most years, parashat Ba’Midbar (“In the wilderness”) is read on the Shabbat right before the festival of Shavuot. So the rabbis often focus on why God chose to reveal the Torah in the wilderness.
According to the most commonly cited Rabbinic explanation, the Torah was given in the desert in order to instill the virtue of humility in its students. As the Talmudic Sage R. Mattena teaches, “If one allows oneself to be treated as a wilderness on which everybody treads, one’s study will be retained by him; otherwise it will not” (Talmud, Eruvin 54a).
Another interpretation forces us to confront questions about pluralism, universalism, and tolerance. A midrash teaches: “The Torah was given in a free place. For had the Torah been given in the land of Israel, the Israelites could have said to the nations of the world, ‘You have no share in it.’ But now that it was given in the wilderness publicly and openly, in a place that is free for all, everyone wishing to accept it could come and accept it” (Mekhilta De-Rabbi Ishmael, Ba-Hodesh 1).
The Torah was given in the desert, in other words, to emphasize its universal availability. Despite what the Israelites might have been tempted to believe, the midrash teaches, the Torah was not intended to be their exclusive possession for a those in the club. It is meant to be open to anyone who wants to live a decent, good life.