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.
Parshat Bechukotai opens with the peculiar phrase, “If you walk in My laws and faithfully observe My mitzvot . . .”
It is possible to “obey” a law, to “observe” a law, or to “uphold” a law. But the Torah doesn’t use any of those words, choosing instead the grammatically awkward “walk” in the law.
That’s because Halakhah is more than a law. It represents the attempt of the Jewish people to concretize a G-dly way of life. G-d wants us to choose the law as our own. In the words of the Mishnah: “Make G-d’s will your will.” Or, as the Talmud puts it, “G-d wants the heart.”
Rabbi Levi, of Midrash Vayikrah Rabbah, teaches that religious law, unlike governmental law, is not content merely regulating externals and defining propriety. The goal of Halachah must be to strengthen that inner sense of right, that drive to do good, that inner longing for justice that exists in the human heart.
By adopting the Torah as our path in life, by allowing it to permeate our hearts beyond the limits of mere law, we choose a path of life and of holiness that can illumine our homes, our families and our communities.
Parshat Behar presents laws regulating the sabbatical year and the jubilee year. The people are told that for six years they are to sow their fields and prune their vineyards, but, during the seventh year, the land is to be given a complete rest, a Sabbath. Every fiftieth year is to be a jubilee year in which land and vineyards must not be worked and in which liberty will be granted to all Israelites enslaved during the previous forty-nine years. The jubilee year also marks a return of any properties, purchased during the previous forty-nine years to the original owner-families who had been given thee land at the time the Israelites entered it.
The reward for obedience to these laws is the promise of security and agricultural abundance. There is reassurance that God will enable the people to subsist during the sabbatical year even as the land lays fallow. The crop in the sixth year will be so abundant that it will last beyond the seventh year. The aliyah concludes with the basic theory of land tenure: “But the land must not be sold beyond reclaim, for the land is Mine; you are but strangers resident with me. Throughout the land that you hold, you must provide for the redemption of the land.”
In other words, the Israelites are merely God’s tenants in thelandofIsrael. They do not have the right to alienate or abuse the land because the land belongs to God. It is a different approach to our role in theLandofIsraeland even on this Earth — to be caretakers and not owners.
The Torah tells us at the beginning of this week’s portion, that the Lord spoke to Moshe immediately after the death of Aharon’s two sons. (Leviticus 16:1) Despite the suffering and the untimely death, dialogue continues. God tells Moshe to speak to Aharon and Aharon does God’s will. In fact this may be the central point of the Nadav – Avihu story. Although not understanding why his sons died, Aharon and the priesthood continue on in a relationship to God.
Soon after the first sentence of our portion, Aharon the high priest is commanded to select two identical goats and, by lots, designate one as an offering to God and the other to be pushed over the cliff for Azazel. (Leviticus 16:6-11) Although these goats are identical in every way, they experience different fates. Perhaps it reminds Aharon and all of us that sometimes life takes tragic twists and turns — and sometimes it is random in terms of who suffers and who succeeds.
When confronted with such inexplicable suffering I am reminded of the words of Esther Wachsman, mother of Nachshon (the young Israeli soldier murdered by Arab terrorists a number of years ago). She said, “When tragedy befalls us we should not ask ‘why?’ but rather, ‘what shall we do now?’”
Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik makes this very point when distinguishing between “fate” and “destiny.” Fate casts each of us into a dimension of life we cannot control. Destiny, on the other hand, “is an active existence in which humanity confronts the environment into which she or he was cast…Humanity’s mission in this world is to turn fate into destiny, an existence that is passive and influenced to an existence that is active and influential.”
Mazal tov to Mosaic Reform member Jane Prentice on her 60th birthday. Jane is delighted to invite congregants to Kiddush after the service to celebrate this occasion.
In parshat Tazria-Metzora we read: “If a man has se’at, or sapa’hat, or baheret on the skin of his flesh, and it forms a lesion of tzara’at on the skin of his flesh, he shall be brought to Aharon the kohen, or to one of his sons, the kohanim” (Vayikra 13:2).
One could look at this parashah and decide that it is simply one of the more ‘practical’ ones, dealing with medical issues and meant to serve as a reference. The rabbis of the Talmud took a slightly different approach. They connect the tzara’at/disease to slander.
How many times have we stood idly by while we heard someone speak untruths about another, let alone contributed to the talk ourselves?
The rabbis of the Talmud deplored gossip and slanderous speech. In fact, they ranked it as equal to the “big three;” the three absolute worst deeds a person could do. The big three are the ones that a person should die rather than commit: idolatry, incest and murder. They say that, “…talk…kills three people: the one who says it, the one who accepts it, and the one about whom it is told” (15b). The rabbis make such a big deal out of slander and gossip because everyone is lessened by hurtful speech.
In parshat Shemini, we read the story of Nadav and Avihu, Aharon’s two sons who died while presenting a “strange” fire offering to God. Rashi comments that Aharon’s sons were either guilty of being drunk while in the Temple and/or not deferring to Moshe on a legal question posed in his presence. However, right after that, Rashi tells us that these very same sons of Aharon were actually greater than both Moshe and Aharon (based on Midrash,Vayikra Rabbah (12:2).
The resolution of this seeming contradiction may lay in the difference between the wisdom that comes from knowledge and the understanding that comes from experience. While the sons of Aharon may have been great in terms of the knowledge, they were apparently lacking in understanding and experience.
Thus, the rabbis teach that one should respect even a foolish old man, justifying this position by saying that his experience alone is worthy of respect (Kiddushin 33a).
On the 7th Day of Pesach we will be reading in the Torah about the crossing of the sea. So that points to one of the strangest passages in the haggadah, from the litany dayenu. “If God had only parted the sea for us, and not caused us to pass through on dry land, that would have been enough.” Every year I read that passage and think – this makes no sense! What good is parting the sea if we do not pass through? What good is starting redemption if we do not finish it?
Redemption is not something that takes place all at once, in one fell swoop. The lesson of dayenu is that redemption will not come all at once. It will happen in little steps, bit by bit and piece by piece. Today we see the sea opening up for us. Hopefully tomorrow we will experience actually crossing the sea. And then on the next day, perhaps we will enter the Promised Land. Meanwhile, let us joyously celebrate each small victory.
The Rebbe of Ger once pointed out that the ‘four sons’ of the Haggadah can be understood as representing four generations. The wise son is the immigrant generation who still lives the traditions of the ‘home’. The rebellious son is the second generation, forsaking Judaism for social integration. The ‘simple’ son is the third generation, confused by the mixed messages of religious grandparents and irreligious parents. But the child who cannot even ask the question is the fourth generation. For the child of the fourth generation no longer has memories of Jewish life in its full intensity.
At first I liked the creative idea that the four sons can represent generations of Jewish people. But then I thought, this interpretation is missing something. I would add one more generation — let’s call her, the fifth daughter. The fifth daughter rebels against her parents’ Judaism that had lost all intensity. She seeks the spiritual meaning, the intellectual challenge and attachment to community that Judaism offers. Jewish generations have always worked in cycles of deep Jewish attachment and detachment. Some leave Judaism, but others return. The four (or five!) children, for me, represent the fact that all types of Jews sit together at the seder table. All are welcome and all are needed.
Mazal tov to Mosaic Reform members Margaret & Michael Abrahams on their Golden Wedding Anniversary. Their children, Joel & Carolyn and Naomi & Barry, together with their grandchildren are delighted to invite congregants to join them for Kiddush at Bessborough Road to celebrate this special occasion.
I have recently started reaching out to old friends on Facebook. I try to write to one person per week that I miss from High School, college, camp. I know there are “status updates” that they see, but it is just not the same as a personal letter. I regret that many of my relationships have fallen victim to our geographical divide (Israel-US). But I am reminded that the Torah teaches us about ways to build and maintain relationships with our loved ones.
In Parshat Tzav, the Torah gives us a directive for keeping alive the flame of the alter: “Fire shall be kept burning upon the altar continually; it shall not go out.” (Lev 6:6). The first mitzvah is in the affirmative: to keep the flame continuously lit. This is a command that stands on its own; whether or not there is a sacrifice to be offered, the fire must remain lit. The second mitzvah is in given in the negative. It isolates the final clause of the verse, “[the flame] shall not go out” (Lev. 6:6).
The alter was very important to the Israelites. It was the only place for people to tangibly relate to God — to express their gratitude to Go and to bring sacrifices to expiate their sins. The ever-burning fire is a symbol of the fact that God never stops listening. And that the Jewish people are dedicated to remaining in conversation with God through our study and practice of mitzvot.
In order to build deep and lasting relationships, we must both make sure to make ourselves available for the other, and make efforts to be in touch with them. I’m really happy now when I write to an old friend — to catch up, and to let them know that I think and care about them. It takes a bit of work to keep the fire lit, but I am determined to not let the flame go out.
Mazal tov to HWPS members, Janet & Alan Solomon, on their Golden Wedding Anniversary. They’re delighted to invite congregants to join them for Kiddush to celebrate this special occasion.
There will always be the more and less privileged in any society. The upper-class always has access to better health care, better education and better vacation spots. There will always be a secretary or administrative assistant who types the letters and answers the phone for that person in the corner office. And there will always be a janitor or cleaning person who will come each evening and to empty the trash and vacuum that corner office. There is no such thing as a truly classless society. We can only aspire to equal opportunities. And we can teach that all people have equal access to God.
Parshat Vayikra speaks of sin offerings of the different classes in society. If a political or religious leader sins, he brings one kind of more expensive sacrifice. The ordinary person brings a sheep or goat. But what if he or she cannot afford an animal? Then he or she can bring birds, pigeons or turtledoves. But what if he or she cannot afford a bird? Then they can bring a flour offering. All people from every class have an equal opportunity to “return” to God. The expensive sacrifice is not better than the inexpensive one. All people are equal in God’s eyes.
At Mosaic Reform we’re delighted to welcome to our service The Worshipful The Mayor of Harrow, Cllr Ajay Maru, and the Aldermen & Councillors of the London Borough of Harrow.
In Parshat Vayakhel, the Torah returns to the construction of the Mishkan or Tabernacle. According to a Midrash the commandment to build the Tabernacle was given to Moses only after Israel has worshipped the golden calf. The Sages explained that the Tabernacle was given because of human frailty – God recognised the fact that the people could not worship Him without a concrete symbol of His existence. In other words, without the Mishkan symbol, people would build a golden calf. It’s almost like there is a vacuum for our spiritual attention — it must be filled, so God allows for the Mishkan. It is just a symbol of God’s presence on earth.
