Parshat Va’era – A Hierarchy of Needs | The Essence of YHVH

Torah: A Hierarchy of Needs

In this week’s parasha, the people of Israel struggle under the weight of their oppression, which has been made worse after Moses’ challenging of the status quo. When Moses comes to tell them of YHVH’s words of hope, they could care less. “So Moses spoke accordingly to the Children of Israel; but they did not heed Moses, because of shortness of breath and hard work” (Ex. 6:9). The people were so exhausted trying to make ends meet that Moses’ words made no impact. They were all consumed by their own situation. As Maimonides notes in the Guide For the Perplexed, “a person suffering from great hunger, thirst, heat or cold, cannot grasp an idea even if it is communicated by others, much less can he arrive at it by his own reasoning.” What Maimonides points to is a fundamental truth: Before one can arrive to great spiritual heights, their basic needs must first be met. This led Rabbi Sacks to make what for me was a shocking realization in its simplicity. He says, “If you want to improve people’s spiritual situation, first improve their physical situation.”

To see the power of this approach, one need not look further than the beginnings of the state of Israel. While living in what was then Palestine was certainly no cakewalk, the early pioneers had their basic food and shelter needs met. They lived in relative peace and security for many years with their Arab neighbors. Each person had a role in kibbutz life, and no person was above the others. Orphans from across the world came together as sisters and brothers. And after years of work, the country began to bloom. Before their very eyes the land of milk and honey came to life from the work of their very hands, and they felt tangibly that they were sowing the seeds for the rebirth of the Jewish people. The very strength of Zionism stemmed from the intense sense of purpose which addressed all of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Each step built upon the last, raising the consciousness of the people higher and higher. However, with the establishment of the State of Israel, Israel was forced into a state of survival for which it has never fully been able to move past. To be sure, there was still idealism in certain areas, but so many people even today do not have the basic security that would allow them to turn their eyes to loftier ideals and goals. We see these gaps in the rights of Bedouin in the South, in the rights and poverty of immigrants of color, in the hurdles that Israeli Arabs still have to overcome to be accepted in Israeli society, and in the high costs of housing, to name a few issues. Without addressing these issues of basic needs and rights for all citizens, the conversation around loftier ideals and the spiritual nature of the State cannot even begin.

Reb Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev said: “Don’t worry about the state of someone else’s soul and the needs of your body. Worry about the needs of someone else’s body and the state of your own soul.” Instead of spending so much time judging others for how observant they may or may not be, let us put our energies into creating a more just and equal society for all people.

T’fillah: The Essence of YHVH

In the beginning of our parasha, God makes a huge revelation. “God spoke to Moses and said to him, “I am YHVH. I appeared to Avraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob as El Shaddai, but with my Name YHVH I did not make Myself known to them” (Ex. 6:2-4). While the name YHVH has been used by the narrator previously, it was only revealed in the world last week to Moses at the burning bush, not to our Patriarchs or Matriarchs. What does this name represent?

Ramban notes that each name of God represents the trait through which Godself is revealed in the world. So Moses is not asking God’s name, but through which aspect of the Divine will it reveal itself. God answers with YHVH, saying “I will be with you in mercy as you are redeemed from Egypt”.

Aryeh Kaplan provides an alternative explanation in “Jewish Meditation: A Practical Guide”. He notes the dual nature of the name YHVH; while it’s written YHVH, its pronunciation is so holy we instead substitute a different name for God when we say it out loud: Adonai. To understand the name, we must know the essence of both names.

YHVH comes from the verb “to be”, a combination of the conjugations in the past, present, and future. Therefore, he says, when you see this name of God, think “that God ‘was, is, and will be’ – all at once. This indicates that God is utterly transcendental, higher even than the realm of time.” This represents the Divine as a principle, true everywhere, connecting everything, and would be expressed in language like “God is the loving force in the Universe”.

However, since YHVH represents the relationship of everything to everything else, we can’t actually be in a relationship with a principle itself, only a being. In order to be able to talk to the Divine, we substitute the name Adonai, my Lord, for YHVH, which represents the aspect of the Divine which is being. This God can be described not as a force, but actually the Creator of the universe.

When we see the name YHVH but pronounce it as Adonai, we address the Divine as “a Being-Principle. We see God as the Principle that gives existence to all things. Yet, at the same time, we see God as a Being, and furthermore, as a Being to whom we can relate. When we speak to God, it is as if we are communing with existence itself, but at the same time speaking to it as if it were a person.”

Which mode are you more oriented towards – treating God as a Being or Principle? What would it feel like to address God as the opposite? Or both? What situations might that theology be helpful in?

Sam Blustin is an alumnus of the Conservative Yeshiva (2014-2015) and a current Rabbinical student at the Jewish Theological Seminary (Class of 2020). You can view more divrei Torah at www.samblustin.com or contact Sam directly at samblustin@gmail.com.

The Third Temple

Yesterday was Tisha B’av. If you’ve never been to a Jewish summer camp near the end of the summer, or don’t have a triple degree in Talmud, Jewish Studies, and Hebrew, then chances are you haven’t heard of the “holiday”.

Tisha B’av is the saddest day of the Jewish year, a day of mourning and a day of fasting. We commemorate the destruction of the First and Second Temples, the defeat of the Bar Kochba Revolt and the fall of Beitar, the beginning of the Spanish Inquisition and the expulsion of Jews from Spain, and the commencement of the deportation of the Warsaw Ghetto Jews to Treblinka during the Holocaust, among other calamities. As a result of this day of mourning we fast, sit on the ground (not on chairs), and generally refrain from pleasurable things.

The past few years (except last year), I had been at Herzl Camp over Tisha B’av. There, a large portion of the community fasts together, and we all partake in the reading of the Book of Lamentations and the Book of Job as is the custom. We also typically showed the movie “A Hero in Heaven”, a tribute to the life of Michael Levin, an American who made Aliyah and gave the ultimate sacrifice while fighting in the Second Lebanon War. Michael, too, was buried on Tisha B’av. Here at camp, I thought I understood Tisha B’av.

Back in 2008, I explored Israel on Alexander Muss High School in Israel. I learned Jewish history from beginning to the present. I understood the importance of remembrance. I understood the modern importance of the lessons of the First Temple, as idol worship and corruption were the cause of its collapse. I understood the importance of the lessons of the Second Temple, where sinat chinam, baseless hatred, caused the Temple to be destroyed. I understood the importance of a Jewish state, and the need to protect and defend it at all cost. But yet, Tisha B’av was just another day to me, another ritual rooted in ancient (or seemingly ancient) times.

That changed this year. This year I’m fortunate to have spent Tisha B’av in the Third Temple. No, I’m not breaking some major news story where the Jews have destroyed the Al-Aqsa Mosque and rebuilt a grand and glorious new temple. No, this temple was created in 1948, with a victory over the surrounding nations in the War for Independence, and still stands to this day. This temple is Medinat Yisrael, the State of Israel.

This Tisha B’av, and actually this whole week, I’ve been volunteering at a vineyard in the Kinneret region up north, in St. Paul’s partnership region. As I fasted, for the first time, I got to work the land of Eretz Yisrael. I got to experience and take part in the constant rebuilding of the Third Temple by helping to make this land beautiful and prosperous. This contrast between the fast and the labor, between the remembrance of what was and the reality of what now is, is an experience that is not lost on me, and that I will take with me the rest of my life. We are here now, and we’re not going anywhere.

Once again, there are people the world over that call for the destruction of the State of Israel and the elimination of the Jewish people. Like it or not, they are on our doorstep and ready and willing at a moment’s weakness to strike. We’ve unfortunately seen it these past few weeks, where the people of Israel and Jews across the world have witnessed the terror of those who want to destroy us. We have also seen, however, a Jewish unity unlike anything we have seen in a long time. Jews from all over the world stood up for their brethren, and raised their voices together in support of the Israeli people.

Let us continue to heed the lessons of Tisha B’av, of the First and Second Temples, of the Inquisition, of the Holocaust, and let us recognize that UNITY, and only unity, will leave us victorious in this time of the Third Temple. Together, as a Jewish community, we can and must stand for what is right and just in the world. We can and must fulfill our purpose of being a beacon of light, peace, and prosperity unto the nations. This, I believe, is our mission, and our duty. And only together, we can make it a reality.

Loving at a Cost – Parshat Ki Teitzei

יח: וְזָֽכַרְתָּ֗ כִּ֣י עֶ֤בֶד הָיִ֨יתָ֙ בְּמִצְרַ֔יִם וַיִּפְדְּךָ֛ יְהֹוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ מִשָּׁ֑ם עַל־כֵּ֞ן אָֽנֹכִ֤י מְצַוְּךָ֙ לַֽעֲשׂ֔וֹת אֶת־הַדָּבָ֖ר הַזֶּֽה

18: You shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt, and the Lord, your God, redeemed you from there; therefore, I command you to do this thing. (Deut. 24:18)

Parshat Ki Teitzei begins with a long list of laws that we are to follow, followed by a pretty common refrain: Do this thing because that’s what God brought you out of Egypt to do. Rashi here adds something important: ‘even if you incur monetary loss in the matter.’ On a slightly different note, Rabbinic Judaism delineates two concepts: ahavat hashem (love of God), and yirat hashem (awe of God). Reb Simcha Bunim taught that first one comes to be in awe of God, which leads to doing mitzvot, which then leads to loving God. And as Reb Shlomo Carlebach said, to love God is also to love humankind. If one’s actions don’t lead to loving the other, than your not doing it right. It’s not what God wants of us. The pasuk comes to remind us that even in the midst of all of these laws, we need to keep God in mind at all moments. We constantly need to be asking “Am I becoming a more loving person?” And even if there is a cost to us, whether it’s social, family-related, or monetary, we have a responsibility to pursue love even if the cost is high to us.

Parshat Bo – The Power of Liminality | Tefillin

Torah: The Power of Liminality at Camp

This d’var was written for the weekly Ramah Wisconsin mailing. It has been changed slightly.

The summer after I graduated college, I staffed a USY Poland-Israel Israel trip for high school aged students. The experience had a profound impact on me, but more than that, it had a profound Jewish impact on the teens who went on the trip. In fact, research says that there are three main experiences which, more than any other metric, predict future involvement in Jewish life: Jewish day schools, youth trips to Israel, and you guessed it, Jewish summer camps. Particularly focusing on the later two, I asked myself, what do these experiences have in common? The answer is Jewish immersion. In these environments, Judaism is infused into every aspect of the experience. At camp, chanichim learn how to live meaningful halachic Jewish lives while living with all that modern life has to offer. This liminal space allows young Jews to step out of the pressures of their everyday lives and experience the breadth of what Jewish life can be.

Parshat Bo commences with a different type of liminal experience. It’s the coming of age for a people, where they transition from life under a physical master in Egypt to the Master of the Universe. In fact, the entire rest of the Torah documents this lengthy transition. Like camp, the desert provides an ideal environment for learning both faith and practice, removed from the demands of everyday life. In the desert, the people must rely solely on God for their sustenance and well being, the ultimate test of faith. In fact, the people come to rely so much on God that when it comes time to scout out the land of Israel, they bring back a negative report, afraid that the giants in the land will surely crush them. The Lubavitcher Rebbe taught, however, that the spies were not actually afraid of failing, but of victory. In the desert, they had everything provided for them. God was visible, present in every moment. But they knew in Eretz Canaan that they would have to live in the real world of empirical space. They would need to fight wars, plant crops, and build a society. And as a result, God’s intimate, miraculous presence would be diminished. The issue was that the spies didn’t know how to translate the immersive experience of God into everyday life. How do we translate these seminal liminal moments to lived reality?

After Pharaoh finally releases the Hebrews, they journey to Succoth and receive their first laws, among them to celebrate Passover yearly. “And you should tell your son on that day, saying, ‘It is because of this that Hashem acted on my behalf when I left Egypt.’ And it shall be for you a sign on your arm and a reminder between your eyes – so that Hashem’s Torah may be in your mouth – for with a strong hand Hashem removed you from Egypt” (Ex. 13:8-9). What does ‘because of this’ mean? Rashi asks. Because we must fulfill the mitzvot, we were brought out of Egypt. In these few words, we realize our entire purpose in life – to serve the Divine through the fulfillment of mitzvot.

To translate these liminal moments to lived reality, immersion must extend beyond the walls of camp, into the homes, schools and synagogues. Judaism must be lived, not only at Ramah, but by the very people children look up to most: their parents. We must place mitzvot front and center, showing our children not only in words, but also in action, that it’s ‘because of this that Hashem acted on my behalf when I left Egypt’. And in doing so, may we all merit the sweet taste of Torah in our mouth and on our lips.

T’fillah: Tefillin and Servitude

At the end of parshat Bo, it not once, but twice mentions that you should put a sign on your arm and a reminder between your eyes that Hashem took you out of Egypt. “And it shall be for you a sign on your arm and a reminder between your eyes – so that Hashem’s Torah may be in your mouth – for with a strong hand Hashem removed you from Egypt” (Ex. 13:9). It’s no coincidence that this passage, along with one a few verses later and the two passages from the Shema which allude to tefillin, is actually contained within the Tefillin themselves. In both passages in Bo, these signs are referred to in the context of God’s redemption of the people from Egypt. As was noted in the Torah commentary above, Rashi teaches on verse 8 that it’s in order to perform mitzvot that the Divine takes the Hebrews out of Egypt. Therefore, the daily wrapping of Tefillin is a reminder that God didn’t just bring us out of Egypt to be free, but to worship the Divine. And we do this by performing mitzvot, thereby revealing the Divine presence in the world. Rabbi Shmuel Hominer, a late 19th century Rabbi in Palestine, comments similarly in Sefer Olat Tamid on uk’shartem l’ot, and you will bind them as a sign, in the Shema. “A person should intend that they are a branded servant of the Kadosh Baruch Hu, and that they will not rebel or maintain the idea that they are a free person. Therefore, we put on our flesh a sign of the covenant (circumcision), like the way a master brands his servant to show he’s a servant. The second stamp we put on us is tefillin. And on Shabbat, there is no tefillin. The day itself is a sign.” What does it look like to serve a higher power? How might our moment to moment interactions change if we were constantly in service to the Divine?

View a PDF of this D’var here.

Why Isn’t My Kid Jewish? Lessons of a USY Pilgrimage Madrich

USY’ers wrapped in t’fillin posing at Robinson’s Arch

It’s the last day of USY Poland-Israel Pilgrimage. We’re standing at Robinson’s Arch, in the “egalitarian” section of the Kotel, also known as the Western Wall. All 47 of us are there together, all by ourselves, ready to daven Sunday Shacharit. The men have kippot on, as well as a tallis and t’fillin. Some of the women wear a tallis, if they brought one on the trip. Before we start, I ask the women if anyone wants to wrap t’fillin, as I’d be happy to share mine for the second half of the service. After all, that previous Friday at Shacharit, the women had been taught how to wrap t’fillin, along with the reasons for why we do it. I think it would be especially meaningful for some of them to wrap at the Kotel. It turns out I’m right. Immediately after the question is raised, one girl shouts “I do!”. Taking my lead, a few of the other USY’ers pledge theirs for the second half of the service to any willing ladies who also want to wrap.

Business settled, we begin our service. Today’s leader is Briana, a USY’er from Florida whose T’fillah goal is to learn and lead a weekday Shacharit service. Standing next to her, calling pages and giving moral support, is Josh, a Rel Ed (a position on a USY board that oversees religious education for their chapter/region/country) who had both led many services on our trip and taught other USY’ers skills so that they could also lead. In a really moving and beautifully led service, all 47 of us pray together as one, each of us in our own way.

After the Amidah, I unwrap my t’fillin and hand it over to one of the ladies. I help her to wrap them, and she stands there, shoulder to should with others who have put on t’fillin, heads pressed against the great stones once supporting the Holy Temple, davening with intense kavannah (intention).

USY'ers wrapped in t'fillin davening at Robinsons Arch 1

USY’ers wearing t’fillin and praying at Robinson’s Arch

It’s such a moving scene, to see 42 USY’ers, Conservative Jews, taking on their role as young Jewish adults in such a reaffirming way. To see egalitarianism alive and thriving in this moment, in Israel, at the Kotel of all places, is inspiring.

Overlooking our platform where we’re davening, another tour group gathers, equally as moved by the experience. They stand there watching, and even join as we joyously sing the Shehecheyanu to celebrate Briana’s achievement. This excitement for Judaism, for ruach after meals, and even for prayer, is not an isolated incident on our trip. Time and again, these young USY’ers, some of whom may not have stepped into a synagogue since their B’nai Mitzvah (at least for services), prove that they’re willing and excited to partake in Jewish life in its fullest.

Are these youth outliers? Are they fundamentally different from all other American Jewish youth? Why, back home, are parents of children all across the nation asking, “Why isn’t my kid Jewish?”

“Why isn’t my kid Jewish?” I’m not here to judge what makes a person “Jewish”. That you can decide. But one thing that studies like the infamous Pew Report, and my own experience working in the Minneapolis Jewish Community has shown, is that in increasing numbers young Jews don’t identify as being Jewish. Many don’t practice Judaism on a day to day basis, a weekly basis, or even on a yearly basis. The idea of a 3 day a year Jew is an unfortunately prevalent one. Parents, synagogues, and communities have been brainstorming ways for years to change this trend, to limited success. But there have been shining stars.

“The success of the Jewish summer camp” and “experiencing Israel” have been rightly heralded for their outstanding work in creating knowledgeable Jews who are proud of their identity. How do they do it? There are many factors, but simply put, and I believe most importantly, there’s Jewish immersion.

For 1, 4, 8 weeks, Jewish youth at summer camps are, as a former camp director describes it, put in a secluded bubble and pelted from all directions with little tidbits of Judaism. Every action, be it eating, praying, playing sports, or art, is infused with Judaism and pride for Israel, both overtly and subconsciously. To many campers, saying HaMotzi before a meal or Birkat Hamazon is as much camp tradition or just another part of a meal as it is “prayer”. For many, ruach (song sessions) during Shabbat is a big highlight of their experience. Many don’t even realize that the words they sing are from our t’fillot.

An Israel experience is quite the same, in the sense that a Jew often feels completely “at home” as a Jew in Israel. To be a Jew in Israel does not make you different and restrict you from actions, as it might in America, but it connects you to the majority of the people around you. The language, the ability to wish anyone on the street a Shabbat Shalom on Friday afternoon, the ability to go into almost any restaurant you want and be able to order anything from it, all add to this feeling of Jewish immersion.

So when my Rabbis and community ask, “How can we bring the success of camp and Israel back into our community?”, the answer is not the one that they want to hear, because it is the one they have the least control over. While synagogues and communities can certainly do more to offer meaningful, engaging, and fun programming, and they can create excitement at their events similar to a camp atmosphere, the issue of Jewish engagement, and the ultimate solution, lies with those same people who are asking “Why aren’t my children Jewish?”. The issue, and the solution, lies with the parents.

It lies in the parents who drop their children off at Hebrew school on Saturdays, and then go to yoga class (or worse, the parents that bring their children late because they were at yoga). It lies in the parents that prioritize a high school football game over a Shabbat dinner. It lies in the parents who took a break from Judaism at age 13, and who forgot to come back 30 years later.

Judaism is not just a series of blind acts of faith, one followed by another. It is a series of lessons and values that makes us better people and guides how we should treat others in this world. Shabbat teaches us the importance of family, of differentiating between right and wrong, of the value of time. Kashrut teaches us the value of treating everything in this world with respect, care and dignity. Prayer teaches us the value of community and personal reflection. If not from Judaism, where are our children learning these lessons? From TV? From their friends? From popular culture?

Jewish children need Jewish immersion. They crave Jewish immersion, and are inspired by Jewish immersion to live more “Jewish” lives. The success of Jewish camps and Israel trips is impressive and important. But how much more of an impact can it have coming from a parent? From your first heroes in life? From the people you model yourself after and in many ways become? This is how we renew Jewish life.

Parents, you don’t have to do all. Start small and choose one thing. Light the Shabbat candles on Friday night. Bless your children before Friday dinner. Go to synagogue with them on Saturday mornings. Try not mixing milk and meat in your meals. Only eat kosher animals, even if the meat itself is not kosher. By doing these things, you’re showing your children that you care about Judaism. You’re showing them that it’s important to you. Only then will it become important to them.

Immersion in many ways is a relic of the past, but it is also the future. Jewish camps and Israel trips have figured this out. Will our families figure it out too before it’s too late?

Directing Our Eyes, Ears, and Heart to God – Parshat Ha’azinu – Torah and Tefillah

Torah – Directing Our Eyes, Ears, and Heart to God

מו וַיֹּ֤אמֶר אֲלֵהֶם֙ שִׂ֣ימוּ לְבַבְכֶ֔ם לְכָ֨ל־הַדְּבָרִ֔ים אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָֽנֹכִ֛י מֵעִ֥יד בָּכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם

46 And he said to them, “Set your hearts to all of the words which I bear witness for you this day…

After delivering the song of Ha’azinu before the people, Moshe commands them to place on their hearts the words which have just been spoken. How does one do this? Rashi says that a person must direct their eyes, ears, and heart to the words of Torah. But Torah doesn’t only come from books, it also comes from all those around us. Do we see effect our words have on others? Do we hear the innermost longing of our soul? Can we open our hearts to love ourself and others for who we really are? This new year, let us go inside and dedicate ourselves to seeing the hidden, hearing the deep, and to commit to loving acts in every moment.

Tefillah – The Song of Ha’azinu and Az Yashir

Sung at the end of the p’sukei d’zimra service, the well know song of praise Az Yashir celebrates the Israelite crossing of the sea. Rambam however, in Hilchot Tefillah, mentions that some say the Song of Ha’azinu in place of (and some even in addition to) Az Yashir. The differences theologically in the biblical selections is striking. Az Yashir is a song of praise to the Almighty from the people, an ode to triumph. The Almighty is my strength, song, salvation, and is described as a Master of War. The Almighty’s fury comes through towards the nations who wage war against the Israelites, but shows loving-kindness towards the Israelites. The Song of Ha’azinu, conversely, describes God as a Rock, Just, Faithful, True, a Father, but throughout becomes incensed at the betrayal of it’s people, jealous, angry, murderous, and vengeful. Placed in the context of P’sukei D’zimra, the Verses of Praise, we can see why today Az Yashir won out in our fixed liturgy, and the Song of Ha’azinu was relegated to the Torah reading. While the song of Ha’azinu is a powerful reminder during this season of our need to return to Hashem, it hardly evokes the feeling of praise and grandeur sought in the morning prayer.

Parshat B’Shalach – Why Do You Cry To Me? Go Forth! | Vayar Yisrael et Mitzrayim

Torah: Why Do You Cry To Me? Go Forth!

Parshat B’Shalach focuses on the climax of the Israelite’s quest to worship their God: The splitting of the sea which allows them to escape from Pharaoh’s army, while drowning the pursuing soldiers. In this scene, the Israelites are encamped at Pi-hahiroth, Egypt behind them and the sea directly in front of them. Pharaoh’s heart is hardened, and he sends his army to bring the Israelites back to servitude. The people, trapped, begin to panic. “How could you bring us out of Egypt only to die here?!” Moses tries to comfort the people, saying “Do not fear! Stand fast and see the salvation of Hashem that He will perform for you today; for as you have seen Egypt today, you shall not see them ever again! Hashem shall make war for you, and you shall remain silent” (Ex. 14:13-14). There’s nothing to worry about, he says. Sit back, relax, have a little faith, and Hashem will fight this war for you. But as we see, this is the wrong response.

Insead, Hashem responds to Moses, “Why do you cry out to Me? Speak to the Children of Israel and let them journey forth!” (Ex. 14:15). Stop praying to me, God says! Go and do something about your predicament, and I’ll be there to support you and make you successful. But the question remains: How are they supposed to journey forth with the sea blocking their path?

Various midrashim and the Talmud relate a version of the well know story of Nachshon. When God gave the command to go forth, the people knew they had to do something, but who would go first? They looked around, nodding to their friends, trying to convince them to go first. Suddenly, Nachshon, the head of the tribe of Judah, wades into the water. He walks until the water is up to his knees, but nothing happens. To his waist, but nothing happens. To his neck, but nothing happens. Finally, when his head is completely submerged, and his breath about to run out, the sea splits before him, and the people cross safely on dry land.

Nachshon knew what Moshe did not. Despite the formidability of the sea, Nachshon had faith in God and knew that faith requires action. It is not enough to sit back and have faith that everything will be okay. We must go out and act in the name of justice, freedom, equality, and love, no matter what the obstacle or cost. What are you waiting for? Go forth!

T’fillah: Vayar Yisrael – Breaking Free From Our Bonds

After the Israelites cross the sea, they turn back, and to their disbelief, the waters collapse, drowning the pursuing soldiers. Vayar Yisrael et Mitzrayim met al sefat hayam (Ex. 14:30). This verse is often translated: “And the Israelites saw the Egyptians dead on the banks of the sea.” However, the Rabbis teach us not to read Mitzrayim as Egyptians, but rather Egypt. What does it mean that the Israelites saw Egypt dead on the banks of the sea?

After crossing the sea, they left their mindset of servitude behind them. The forces that had kept them chained up and oppressed, that had restricted them from becoming their true and full selves, were shed at this moment. While these forces were literal servitude, we too have forces, both self-imposed and imposed upon us by society and culture, that prevent us from becoming all that were are meant to be. What forces are at play in your life? How can you break free of these bonds to experience your own splitting of the sea?

View a PDF of this week’s Torah here.

SHUL REVIEW: Shira Hadasha (Friday Night and Saturday Morning)

Rating: 4/5- A Beautiful Friday Night Service Lacking In Ruach. 5/5 – Best Saturday Morning Service I’ve Been To In A While

Service Attended: Friday Night Services (8/16/2014) and Saturday Morning (8/23/2014)

Slogan: An Orthodox, Feminist Congregation in Jerusalem
Time of Service: Friday-1:15, Saturday- 8:30am-11:30am
Mechitza: Left-Right, shtender in the middle
Women: Lead Kabbalat Shabbat, Torah Service, read Torah and Haftarah
Meals: They asked at the end of the service for anyone who is looking for a place to go for Shabbos dinner (or lunch on Saturday) to go up front and they would match you up. I had a place to go, so I didn’t take advantage of this.
Frequency: Every Friday night and Saturday morning
Family friendly service

Review:

Friday night: The service I attended was really unlike anything I had attended before. The service was for the most part a typical Carlebach style service, and the congregants sung with some really beautiful harmonies, both from the men’s and women’s sides. The room was half to 3/4 full, and I think that even had the room been full, the size of the room still would have been too big to really have an amazing davenning experience. The service felt very slow, and I could tell that there were individuals who really wanted to pick up the pace and bring more ruach and energy to their davenning, but as a community, it just didn’t get there for me.

The women’s side was more full than the men’s, and for the first time, I actually felt like I would rather have been davening with the women. They just seemed more into the service and to be participating more.

Overall, I would like to go back and see if this was a one time thing, or how they daven.

Saturday Morning: Saturday morning services were wonderful. There was more ruach, and the harmonies were just as beautiful as always. The man who led Shacharit had a beautiful voice, and it was very pleasant to sing along and harmonize to.

Women led Torah service and read part of the Torah reading. What was really special was that there was a Bat Mitzvah, so the Bat Mitzvah girl read the Maftir Aliyah and Haftarah, and she did it beautifully. This was not a sight I thought I would see in Jerusalem, but it was certainly welcome. We threw candy at her after her blessing, and the children present ran up and collected as many pieces as they could.

If you like to sing, Shira Hadasha is the place for you.
Shira Hadasha is located at 12 Emek Refaim Street, Jerusalem. For more information, visit their website.

The Key To Youth and the Aleinu – Parshat V’zot Ha’brachah – Torah From the Holy Land

The Key To Youth – V’zot Ha’brachah

וּמשֶׁ֗ה בֶּן־מֵאָ֧ה וְעֶשְׂרִ֛ים שָׁנָ֖ה בְּמֹת֑וֹ לֹא־כָֽהֲתָ֥ה עֵינ֖וֹ וְלֹא־נָ֥ס לֵחֹֽה: (דברים לד:ז)

Moses was a hundred and twenty years old when he died, yet his eyes were undimmed and his natural force unabated. (Deuteronomy 34:7)

My personal motto is to “find your passion, whatever it may be, and don’t lose it, even for one second. You never know whose life you could have changed during that time”. Passion drives every major change in society, and is a must have for any leader. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks asks about the above pasuk, “What then was the secret of the undiminished energy of his last years?… I used to think that “his eyes were undimmed” and “his natural force unabated” were simply two descriptions, until it dawned on me that the first was an explanation of the second. Why was his energy unabated? Because his eyes were undimmed. He never lost the vision and high ideals of his youth. He was as passionate at the end as he was at the beginning… The moral is clear: If you want to stay young, never compromise your ideals.” In the last year, what ideals have you given up on or compromised? What dreams have you abandoned? This new year, commit to renewing those old passions and embrace your inner youth.

You can read the entire drash by Rav Sacks here.

Tefillah: Aleinu – The Final Call

Just as V’zot Ha’brachah ends the cycle of the Torah, so too does Aleinu end our daily tefillot. And just as V’zot Ha’brachah caps a climatic and moving recap of the journey of the Israelites, reiterating the importance of worshiping the one and only Almighty, so too does Aleinu remind us of the majesty of the Crown. Rabbi Yoel Sirkes (1561-1640) in his book Bayit Chadash, a commentary on the Tur, explains: “The reason [for reciting Aleinu at the end of the service] is to ingrain in our hearts, before we leave for our houses, the unity of the kingdom of God. Thus, our faith will be strengthened, in order that we ‘remove the foreign gods from the land.’’ How many ‘foreign gods’ do we still have today? Power, money, success, acclaim, lust, and all the desires of the ego to dominate the other are still very strong temptations in our society. Aleinu gives us one last moment to refocus before going out into the world. It allows us to get our priorities in order, and helps us cultivate a sense of awe and wonder of the miraculousness of the world and life itself. So before you rush off to fold up your tallit, take a deep breath and focus one more moment on the grandeur of the Divine.

Parshat Yitro – One Love, One Heart | Shabbat Morning Kiddush

Torah: One Love, One Heart

“In the third month from the Exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt, on this day, they arrived at the Wilderness of Sinai. They journeyed from Rephidim and arrived at the Wilderness of of Sinai and encamped in the Wilderness; and Israel encamped there, opposite the mountain” (Ex 19:1-2).

The big moment is arriving! Three months into their journey, the Israelites finally reach the foot of Mt. Sinai, and begin their preparations to receive the Torah. In the first verse, they are referred to as the “Children of Israel”, in the plural, but in the second verse, they are referred to in the singular, only as Israel. Why is this? Rashi comments that at the foot of the mountain, the people were “as one person and with one mind”. While the rest of the time, the people complained and quarreled with each other, in this moment, they united as one people.

Based upon this, Rav Sholom Brodt teaches that total ahavat Yisrael, love of Israel, is a pre-condition for receiving the Torah. This means that to fully receive the Torah that Hashem is giving us, both then and now, we must truly love every member of Israel.

When I was studying at the Conservative Yeshiva two years ago, I had the custom of busking on Ben Yehuda on Friday mornings, and the money I would earn I would give to tzedakah. More than once, I would be approached by a woman who lived in an apartment above the street, who would proceed to yell at me for playing music and disturbing her quiet. No matter what I explained, that I was there for tzedakah, that I would only be there for a short period, nothing worked, and she would inevitably threaten to call the police, despite the fact that it’s completely legal during the day. Often, I would push back for a few minutes, and then move further down the street.

One day, we were engaged in the same song and dance, but while we were talking and I was getting my things together, a man came up asking for money. I had only been going a few minutes and had only made a few shekel, so I gave him what was in my case. The woman was astounded. “He’s an Arab! Why are you giving him money?,” She protested. “Why should I not give to him?,” I responded. “The Rabbis say that ‘Kol Yisrael aravim zeh lazeh, all Israel is responsible for one another,’ not all Jews are responsible for one another. Jew, Muslim, it doesn’t matter. He’s Israeli!” I responded. And as I continued packing up, she said “It’s okay. You can stay here.” She walked away, and I didn’t see her again that year.

While the saying originally is in reference to supporting all Jews, through my own midrash, interpretation, of the text, I was able to extend love beyond my own circle, to all of ‘the people of Israel’. I realized in that moment that the power of loving one’s neighbor can overcome even the toughest and most stubborn of people. May we be blessed in the coming week with an open heart, in order that we may all receive the sweet blessing of the Torah.

T’fillah: Shabbat Morning Kiddush – Zachor et HaShabbat l’Kadsho

“Zachor et haShabbat l’kadsho” – “Remember the Sabbath to make it Holy” (Ex. 20:8)

In his Guide for the Perplexed (Vol. II, Chapter 31), the Rambam explains that the commandment to remember the Sabbath commemorates the Sabbath of creation and the holiness that the Sabbath brings into the world. We do this through the recitation of the kiddush over a cup of wine. On Friday night, we say that kiddush is “zecher l’ma’aseh bereshit,” a reminder of what was made during creation. And if we look at creation, the Torah says that “Elohim blessed the seventh day and sanctified it…” (Bereshit 2:3). Here, our Creator directly sanctified the seventh day. However, in Shabbat morning kiddush, we recite that it is we who sanctify Shabbat by remembering it! How can it be?

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, in his book The Sabbath, says that

“The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation, from the world of creation to the creation of the world.”

When the Creator created the world, it created, as Heschel claims, a majestic palace in time. However, most of the week, we inhabit a world of space and productivity, always running from one thing to another to get things done. The blessing of Shabbat is that we can step away from the treadmill and inhabit time with others, appreciating the holiness inherent in the world. This mindset, however, requires a shift in consciousness. We must consciously enter into the realm of time, and we do this by sanctifying the day ourselves, through kiddush. As we go into Shabbat, may the Holy Blessing One bless us with an awareness of the Divine in the world and with a Shabbat filled with mystery and awe.

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