Cyberdov Life in Riverdale, NY

February 7, 2010

DJC Groundhog Day Convocation 2010

Filed under: Delafield Jewish Center (DJC),Torah — cyberdov @ 12:37 am

groundhogstanding2

A gala affair! And for the second time we were honored by the presence of Rabbi Rosenblatt. I guess that when he attended last year – for the first time in it’s 17 year history – nothing bad happened, so he felt free to come again!

🙂

My sermon follows:

Once again I find myself considering the role that the Groundhog plays in our communal life. Why, indeed, to we venerate this noble rodent, and his activities in the dead of winter? And once again I found some insight in the Parshat Hashavua.

The whole scene of the revelation at Sinai is awe-inspiring, and marked by fear. The people are separated from the mountain; shofars and thunder are heard, lightning and fire appear. In fact, once the revelation begins, the people are so overcome by fear that they flee from the scene, and beg Moshe to act as an intermediary and protect them from the awesome presence of God. The commandments themselves are primarily (though not exclusively) negative ones, with the theme of keeping away from the forbidden.

As time goes on, however, more positive aspects of Jewish belief and practice come to the fore. Ve-ahavta et Hashem Elokecha – Love god. Love the stranger, the widow, the orphan, support the poor. Eliyahu Hanavi expects to see God in the whirlwind – but is told that He is really in the still, small voice. Ultimately, the rabbis tell us that love of god is a higher ideal than fear of Him. And the essence of the messianic idea is one of hope for a better future and a world based on truth and love.

The groundhog’s struggle each February represents the tension between fear and hope, yirah and ahava. The rodent pokes his head out of his hole, where he has been hididing from the cruelty of winter. He can only do so because, deep within his furry soul, he harbors a dream – the hope that the salvation of springtime will arrive. We never know from year to year which will triumph, winter or spring. Will the fear of his shadow drive the groundhog into the depths again? Or will hope overcome fear, heralding the release from the cold, the hunger, and deprivation of body and soul? Whatever the answer in each individual year, we take comfort in knowing that by observing and celebrating this struggle year after year after year, we express the hope that ultimately, the travails of the winter of this world will be overtaken by a springtime of redemption, Bevias Goel Tzedek Bimhera Biyameinu.

December 2, 2009

Vayishlach – the 2 Missions of Yaakov

Filed under: Delafield Jewish Center (DJC),Torah — cyberdov @ 12:39 pm

jacobisrael

I had the privilege of meeting R Yair Kahn of Yeshivat Har Etzion last Shabbat at Seudah Shelisheet at the Clanton Park shul in Toronto, where he shared the following thought.

There is much duplication in the story of Jacob.

  • He is instructed to leave home twice – first by his mother (Genesis 27:43-45), and then by his father (28:1-2).
  • His name is changed to Israel twice – first by the mysterious man of Maavar Yabok/Penuel (32:29), then by God at Beit El (35:10)
  • He builds an altar and calls the name of the place Beit El twice (28:18-19 and 35:7)

On closer examination, one of each pair refers to Jacob’s sojourn in Haran, whole the other refers to Padan Aram.  Presumably these refer to the same place – the house of Laban – but the first reference to Haran is made in Rebecca’s instructions to Jacob –

Behold, thy brother Esau, as touching thee, doth comfort himself, purposing to kill thee. Now therefore, my son, hearken to my voice; and arise, flee thou to Laban my brother to Haran

whereas the first reference to Padan Aram is made by Isaac –

Thou shalt not take a wife of the daughters of Canaan. Arise, go to Paddan-aram, to the house of Bethuel thy mother’s father; and take thee a wife from thence of the daughters of Laban thy mother’s brother.

These threads can be followed throughout the story. In one telling of the story, the journey (to Padan Aram) is all about taking a wife and building a family. In the other, the journey (to Haran) is about the struggle with Esau. In other words, the same events are recounted from two different perspectives.

October 28, 2009

Lech Lecha – comparing 3 versions of the Ur Kasdim midrash

Filed under: Delafield Jewish Center (DJC),Torah — cyberdov @ 4:06 pm

I learned something interesting from Rabbi Azarya Berzon of the Toronto YU Kollel this week.

furnace

The midrashic story of Avram’s brother Haran is well-known. It is based on the term ‘Ur Kasdim’,  (‘Ur of the Chaldeans’) in Genesis 11:28. In Rashi’s version:

“The Midrash teaches us that he died on account of his father. For Terach complained to Nimrod that Avram had crushed his idols, so Nimrod cast Avram into a fiery furnace. Haran sat and thought, ‘If Avram is victorious, I am on his side, and if Nimrod is victorious, I am on his side.’ When Avram was saved, they said to Haran, ‘Whose side are you on?’ Haran said to them, ‘I am on Avram’s side!’ They cast him into the fiery furnace and he was burned.”

However there (at least) are two other versions.

In one, when Avram emerges from the furnace and Haran declares his allegiance, the onlookers assume that Haran is some kind of magician who was able to keep the fire from harming Avram. To set the record straight, God has the fire leap from the furnace and consume Haran!  In this version, Haran’s doubts seem superfluous to the story. Also, while he harbored heretical thoughts, he still declared his allegiance to Avram, so for God to kill him to make an apparently unrelated theological point seems rather harsh!  Perhaps one could say that just as Haran was killed despite his apparent innocence, any victim may be harboring secrets that are not apparent to the onlooker, so one cannot fairly judge God’s justice. The theological ramifications are still quite difficult though.

In a third version, Haran is cast into the furnace and the fire consumes his insides but leaves his body intact, such that he is able to stagger out of the furnace, only to die in his father’s arms. Rabbi Berzon explained that the midrash is commenting that as he was guilty of internal doubts (but outwardly declared his allegiance to Avram and God), the fire burned his insides but not the outward appearance of his body.

Nice touch!

Incidentally, while the whole story is clearly a rabbinic takeoff on the name ‘Ur’, it seems that the rabbis were unaware of (or ignored) the existence of the ancient city of Ur, and figured that ‘Kasdim’ was the name of the place. It is of course quite clear that ‘Ur Kasdim’ simply means ‘Ur of the Chaldeans’. Or am I missing something here?

September 25, 2009

DJC Shabbat Shuva Drasha – Yonah & Yom Kippur

Filed under: Delafield Jewish Center (DJC),Holidays,Torah — Tags: — cyberdov @ 3:49 pm

Why, really, do we read Sefer Yonah on Yom Kippur?

jonah

(Based on ideas from a shiur heard at the 2007 YCT Yemei Iyyun by Aryeh Klapper. Audio can be downloaded at http://www.yctorah.org/component/option,com_docman/task,cat_view/gid,110/Itemid,13/ )

Why, really, do we read Sefer Yonah on Yom Kippur?

My instinctive answer to the question is that the city of Nineveh repents when threatened by God, and succeeds in averting His punishment. However, on reflection it seems there is something deeper. After all, we know next to nothing about Nineveh and what its sins were – in fact, the whole passage of the message to Nineveh and its repentance is only 6 verses long. In addition (as Tamar brought to my attention), some actually see the whole book as a satire – in most prophetic works, the prophet rails eloquently for pages and pages to get the people to repent, but to no avail, while Yonah utters 5 (in Hebrew) words (3:4) Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown. , and the whole society reacts instantly. Perhaps the message of the book is also contained in its other three-plus chapters.

The structure of the book is of two narratives – Yonah fleeing from God, and Yonah carrying out God’s mission and his reaction – separated by the poetic prayer from within the fish. A few questions come to mind in the opening narrative:

  1. Why is God so intent on sending Yonah? If Yonah refuses his mission, is there no one else that God can call upon?
  2. The book tells us why Yonah refuses his mission – but oddly, only in the second narrative, not the first, where he actually refuses it. It would seem more logical to present Yonah’s objections in the context of his refusal to accept the mission.
  3. How are we to understand Yonah’s failure to pray for his life during the storm at sea (as everyone else on the boat is doing)?
  4. In 1:9, Yonah defines himself to the sailors as a Hebrew who fears God. He does not mention that he is fleeing from carrying out God’s mission – the text fills this in as an afterthought.

What’s happening is that Yonah has a beef with God – he doesn’t agree with the whole idea of the mission to Nineveh. His reasons are not important in the opening narrative – the point is, he assumes that if he disagrees with God, then he and God are finished, there is no more relationship. He is not escaping from God, he is abandoning God. This is why he does not pray with the others – he assumes that having disagreed with God, there can be no further conversation. I suppose that he assumes the only response from God will be to punish or kill him.

Yonah is swallowed by the fish, and remains there for 3 days. When he finally prays to God what would we expect him to say? “Thanks for sending the fish” – but this would have been appropriate on the first day! Or, “Get me out of the fish!” – but there is no mention of the fish. Any reference to drowning in his prayer, therefore, seems to refer to something other than physically drowning.

In general, by the way, when a Biblical poem interrupts a narrative, the purpose is never to advance the narrative, but to provide an insight into the perspective of a character. I imagine that it took Yonah three days to contemplate what was happening, and to finally conclude (2:5) “And I said: ‘I am cast out from before Thine eyes’; yet I will look again toward Thy holy temple.” If you read Yonah’s prayer, you will see that he is not simply thanking God for saving his life, but for inviting Yonah back into God’s presence – for inviting Yonah to continue the dialogue.

Now, in the second narrative, Yonah and God engage in this dialogue. Yonah now realizes that God has given him license to respond, and he says (4:2) “O LORD, was not this my saying, when I was yet in mine own country? Therefore I fled beforehand unto Tarshish; for I knew that Thou art a gracious God, and compassionate, long-suffering, and abundant in mercy, and repentest Thee of the evil. ”.

God responds with the parable of the gourd. God says, in effect, I’ll tell you what this is like – when you have nothing (Yonah before the shade of the gourd), and then you get something (Yonah enjoying the shade) and then you lose it again (Yonah after the gourd’s demise). If we extend this three-part parable to God’s situation, it doesn’t quite apply to Nineveh itself – after all, God Himself is the one who threatens to destroy Nineveh, rather than have its destruction intrude on Him – but it does apply to God’s relationship with Yonah. First God suffers, as it were, from loneliness; then he acquires a prophet, Yonah; then that relationship is abrogated by Yonah.  Perhaps the point of the whole story is that Yonah erred in thinking that disagreeing with God necessitates severing the relationship – rather, God prefers to keep the conversation going. Yonah had believed that the relationship is predicated on obedience and submission – the book is about God correcting this idea.

R Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev told the story of a simple, hardworking Jew who was contemplating settling his accounts with God before Yom Kippur. “God,” he said, “I admit it – I have done some things I shouldn’t have. I short-changed some customers, I could have been more charitable, I didn’t set aside enough time for Torah and prayer…”

“But,” he continued, “You, God, are not so innocent either! What about my neighbor, whose life you took so suddenly at a young age, leaving a widow and four orphans? And what about the pogrom in the next district?,…”. He fell silent for a time, and then concluded, “I’ll tell you what, God – let’s call it even. I’ll forgive you, and you forgive me, and everyone will have a good year!”

I think this message is most relevant in our time, after the inexplicable suffering of the Holocaust, and when we are challenged to understand the Bible and our tradition in new ways. God wants to be challenged! Even if we disagree, God prefers that like Yonah in the second narrative, we stay and argue, rather than abandon Him to His loneliness.

Some thoughts for Yom Kippur

Filed under: Delafield Jewish Center (DJC),Holidays,Torah — Tags: — cyberdov @ 10:39 am

yom-kippur

From Rabbi Hyim Shafner at Morethodoxy:

Yom Kippur will arrive this week and thousands of Jews will attend synagogues.  Why is it that so many attend synagogue on Yom Kippur, but not the rest of the year?  What is it about Yom Kippur that draws us?  No doubt because it is a holy day, we want to be present.  But many of us are just hedging our bets.  If we have a bad year we don’t want to have to kick ourselves for not participating in Yom Kippur as we should have.  If we go on Yom Kippur and pray with sincerity at least we will not have ourselves to blame for whatever bad happens.  We will have done what we could.

For many of us even quite religious Jews who go to synagogue every day or every Sabbath, this kind of thinking is still part and parcel of our Yom Kippur.  Some of the liturgy in fact serves to reinforce it, such as the Unisaneh Tokef –which hinges on,“Who live and who will die?”  But such an approach is a very selfish take on the holiest day of the year.  If I am going to pray on Yom Kippur just so that I can have a good year it’s really just about me and my physical welfare, its really just selfishness.

As Morethodox Jews I think we need to turn to the Chassidic commentaries to reclaim the true nature of Yom Kippur.  Rabbi Yehuda Leib Alter of Ger in his book the Sefat Eemet says that the phrase, which we repeat many times in this season, “Remember us for life God who wants life, and write us in the book of life for your sake, living God” means that we are asking not for lengthened physical life, but rather for the life of the spirit.

Rabbi Levy Yizchak of Bardichev, in his book the Kedushat Levi, asks why we beseech God to write us in the book of life and to remember us, is God is a person who remembers and writes?  God is God, and furthermore no evil can come from God, only goodness.

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak answers by way of a mashal, a metaphor.  He says it is akin to putting a piece of cloth in the sun.  If it is a white cloth it will reflect the light, if it is a black cloth it will absorb the light, if it is a red cloth it will reflect the red color of the light, if blue the blue waves of the light.  The sunlight does not change, only the cloths are different.

So too there is a flow coming from the Eternal One all the time.  It is a flow of goodness and it is our job on Yom Kippur to become people who can absorb the light for goodness.  We are not trying to change God’s mind, God is infinite.  We are not pulling the wool over God’s eyes trying to convince him that we are more religious than we are by coming to shul on yom Kippur, or hoping that somehow that our prayer will magically help us to have a good year.  No, Yom Kippur is the process of changing ourselves, changing our own colors so that we can receive the Divine light that is always flowing for goodness.  God does not change.  Only we change.  May we all change for the better this Yom Kippur.

June 18, 2009

Shelach – the Woodcutter

Filed under: Delafield Jewish Center (DJC),Torah — cyberdov @ 1:09 pm

woodcutter

The Shabbat woodcutter at the end of Parashat Shelach is anonymous – at least in the text (later sources attempt to identify him).  There are a few other anonymous characters in Chumash, also identified as “Ish” – the man who directs Joseph to his fateful encounter with his brothers; Moshe’s father (and mother) at their marriage come to mind.  Why are they anonymous?

Larry Rublin suggests that in our story, the woodcutter is not the main character, he is just incidental – the real character is the Nation, and our attention is being drawn not to the act but to the reaction. Having just been sentenced to wander and die in the desert, they might be expected to lose interest in building a society faithful to the tenets of the Torah they had been given. However, to their credit, their commitment to these tenets appears unshaken. This also explains why this passage is placed shortly after the incident of the Spies.

In our other examples, clearly, Joseph’s interlocutor was not a character important to the story, he simply serves as a device to advance the narrative. I would add that similarly, the specific identity of Moses’ parents is not relevant to the story. One could conjecture that the message is that one’s lineage is not important in the service of God – or, more likely, that the important factor here was not precisely who Moses’ parents were, but rather that they came from a specific family – “Ish miBet Levi”, a man from the House of Levi, and “Bat Levi”, a daughter of Levi. This gives Moses a cachet of leadership – either prospectively, if the Levites were already in a leadership role, or at least retrospectively.

(Hat Tip – Ron Allswang, who is a week ahead of us as he lives in Israel)

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