Parshat Va-Era, Being God to Pharaoh

There is a great story about how a person's good deeds are the only true friends who will, who can, accompany him or her into the afterlife to intercede before the Heavenly Court in its judgement of one's soul.

We are taught in this week's parshah that Moses will be "like God to Pharaoh" in their dealings with each other.  God will make Moses His messenger, and Moses, who was worried if he was up to the job, will be successful for this reason.

Yet some translate it, understand it, not that Moses will be like God, but that Moses will be a "master" over Pharaoh.  It's not that God will do it for Moses - but God is saying that you, Moses, you do have the ability to accomplish with your own hands, with your own deeds, the deliverance the Jewish People so desperately need.

So often in life we can feel as if our own actions are not enough, that we can't possibly accomplish what needs to be done.  Yet these two lessons - about one's good deeds being one's true friends for all time, and about Moses having the strength himself to carry out God's mission for him - these stories teach us that we can, with persistence, and determination, accomplish a great deal, if we try.

I want to acknowledge how one small action taken by members of our congregation is making an impact for the better.  The other day, many of you signed a letter that has now been sent to heads of universities around the country who have either taken their institutions out of the American Studies Association, or have otherwise protested against the ASA's resolution to boycott Israel.

Already I have received back a number of kind letters from university presidents we wrote to thanking us for our support of them.  I want to let you know, you are making a difference!

And so don't stop.  Find out if your alma mater is a part of the ASA and whether or not it has taken appropriate steps to distances itself form the ASA's despicable policy.   Contact your schools to let them know they should take such steps if they haven't yet and thank them if they have already.

Our small deeds can and do make a difference.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Benson

Lingering at the Inn: Parshat Shemot

The title no doubt sounds like I'm about to tell you something relating to a certain little holiday coming up next week, but it's not that (though it is interesting that there are some clear parallels between the stories).

This is a story about Moses, and a peculiar incident that befalls him on his return to Egypt from Midian.  He is instructed to go back, he sets out, and then the next thing we know, God seems to be trying to kill him until Zipporah his wife saves the day by circumcising Eliezer, their son.

In order to explain this we focus in on the reference in the Torah that this incident in which God seems to want to kill Moses happens while Moses is staying at an inn.

This, at least for some of the commentators, is the answer to what went wrong here.  Moses has lost track of his mission.  Not only has he, for some unknown reason, put off circumcising his son, he has also slowed down to a halt in his journey back to Egypt.

Now of course Moses had to sleep, had to eat, couldn't fly to Egypt.  But the implication is that he got more than a little bit distracted and this is what brings on the punishment.

More than that, it would suggest he got caught up in things that weren't really important at all - saving the Jews and rearing his children according to the tradition.

That may not be the only explanation, but it is a good reminder to us about something.  Too often we get caught up "lingering at the inns" of life's unimportant and insignificant things and forget to keep on with the progress towards what's important.  For whatever the reason, fear, doubt, simple human nature - we need to shake ourselves to action to be like Zipporah in this instance, and, as the text suggests, wedding ourselves to life and action.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Benson

Pledging the Shema - Parshat Vayechi

Much has been made of late of the aging and declining of the Conservative Movement and what to do about it.  How do we not just pass on to a new generation our love of our understanding of  Judaism, but how can we make it alive to them, make it spread and grow?

The final words of the elderly Jacob speaking to sons in the parshah this week give us some advice and guidance.  Just before he is about to die, Jacob summons his children to gather around his bed. He tells his sons, "Come together, that I may tell you what is to befall you in days to come." Then, rather than beginning his list of predictions, he inserts the comment, "Assemble and hearken, O sons of Jacob; ve-shim'u el Yisrael avichem (Hearken to Israel, your father)."

The Midrash notes the wording of this remark, its seemingly extraneous placement, and suggest that Jacob says these words, to which his sons respond by reciting the Shema prayer, "Hear O Israel the Lord is our God, the Lord is One" and to which Jacob says in gratified response, the line we say when we recite the Shema today, Baruch shem... "Blessed is the Name of the Glorious Kingdom forever and ever."

Thus we learn something for when we say the Shema, something to guide us in thinking of how we pass on and shape our legacy:  

For “the sons” the younger generation, we need to be able to say this proclamation of faith sincerely, and think of the legacy of our elders; do we say the Shema as the twelve sons did in a way that honors what our elders hold dear?

And for the older generation – is what we are doing going to make the younger generation hearken to us as Jacob was able to do?  Are we setting the example for them so they can respond truthfully, “We hear you!”

Pledge with me – when you say the Shema, to think of these things and how you can in the future, help forge and help strengthen the bonds we feel between each other, wherever you stand in the great chain of the Jewish people.

Joseph, Jacob and Life's Five Great Regrets

Parshat Vayiggash is impressive for its family drama - Joseph acts with compassion and forgiveness after seeing his brothers have truly changed and repented their misdeeds.  Jacob and Joseph are reunited when it seemed they would likely die without ever seeing each other again and share in the joy of grandfather living to see his grandchildren.

Studies tell us that there are five chief-most regrets people confronted with their own mortality report having.  And our parshah shows us a version of nearly all of them.  Considering our Torah portion in the context these lessons may help us avoid having these regrets and live our lives in more meaningful, fulfilling ways:

1.  I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself and not what others expected of me - we see Joseph learning this lesson over the course of his life, ultimately for the better of his whole family, and the world.

2.  I wish I didn't work so hard - while I'm not sure if this one appears directly, any story focusing on how a dreamer rises from slavery to royalty at least hints at the idea.

3.  I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings - Joseph and his reaction to his brothers is the example of this.  He not only isn't afraid to express his feelings, but his feelings demonstrate a great capacity for learning who he is and of which emotions he is worthy.

4.  I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends - again, not sure this exactly appears but we do see many close bonds - Joseph and Jacob and Benjamin for example in our story.

5.  I wish that I had let myself be happier - And Jacob may be the example of this.  His blessing his grandchildren - his simply getting to see his grandchildren when he didn't even imagine seeing their father - is just such an example of literally embracing the happiness God grants you.

We have no guarantees in life but we can learn from stories like those in our portion this week how to avoid falling victim to these five regrets and instead living better lives without them.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Benson

And in Our Days, Too

Everyone loves a lesson about Hebrew grammar.  I know I do.  But grammar lessons where the grammar can be a little wrong, or at least clunky, but the message be of powerful importance to how we believe - that sounds like one I might give a second to.

So in brief, here it is.  There is a dispute as to the correct wording of the second blessing for the Hanukkah lights (which we started lighting Wednesday night) – that is the she-asa nisim blessng – and this is it.  There are two alternatives for its wording: “שעשה נסים לאבותנו בימים ההם בזמן הזה” or “ובזמן הזה”. The first refers to God’s miracles performed “for our ancestors in those days at this time”, whereas the second speaks of miracles “for our ancestors in those days and at this time”.

Now some say it should be "and at this time" because God has and continues to make miracles for us and we should be considerate and thankful for all of them as a part of Hanukkah celebrations.  The ones God performed for the Maccabees are important, but so too are the ones he does for us today.

Others say that using this wording makes no grammatical sense as it would suggest that the miracles God is doing today were for our ancestors back then.  

But I think that may be true (though I don't say the blessing in that way, but that's another story - the way you learn the prayers is the way you learn the prayers).  I think it is true that we should be thankful to God for miracles God did for our ancestors as well as for us.  

AND we should also believe that miracles performed today are for the benefit of our ancestors.  If we believe in a measure of eternal life for everyone, then in some mystical way miracles for us are of benefit to them.  But even more and greater than that - their story becomes all the more powerful, all the more meaningful, all the more richer and fuller, if our story which began with and depends on what they did becomes one of great religious, moral, spiritual growth and success.  Think about it - Steve Jobs' tinkering in the garage bore impressive fruit with the Apple II - but how much more impressive did his earlier accomplishments become when we saw that they led to the iPhone?  The Maccabees story becomes all the greater the greater a legacy we build upon it.

So maybe it's not so terrible to say the prayer acknowledging those days and ours as well.

Happy Hanukkah and Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Benson

Speak to Us with Utmost Candor: Thoughts on the JFK Anniversary

As I write this now, it is fifty years and an hour from the time that President John F. Kennedy was assassinated.  It has the feel of great significance to me; it should.  It is a defining moment for contemporary American life.  Much of what and how we conduct ourselves in the world in which I have grown up and in which we all live has arguably been defined by those moments in Dallas.

One such change, and we were reading more about it in the recent Pew report the other day, was with regards to our society's increasing focus on the individual and what is "in it for me."  Rabbis and other Jewish leader speak, rightly or wrongly, of a heyday for Conservative Judaism, in about the time of the Kennedy Administration, when synagogues were booming and volunteerism on behalf of the community seemed to be at a peak.

Now I'm not sure that was ever truly the case.  I think there are many good things going on today in synagogues, and I suspect some of that volunteerism in the 60s was as much about proving who made the best casserole or could bowl the most strikes as it was about truly improving peoples' lives.

It is telling to me, though, that in early 1964, responding to words spoken by the Mayor of Dallas, Earle Cabell, that one of Dallas' leading clergyman, Rabbi Levi Olan spoke the message I would like to relate in part to you (on his regular radio program - for those of you who don't know that's like a podcast).

Rabbi Olan was responding to what the mayor had said, which was, "I call upon the churches and synagogues for such devotion to our faith that they will speak to us with utmost candor, both of ideals of truth and of the shortcomings of our community, so that we may be guided into the paths of right... I call upon the people to bear every means of strengthening our moral fiber and to make our a community of tolerance and understanding."

That in itself is impressive.  The notion that the religious institutions of the city should be thought of potentially playing such an important role in its life.  But beyond that, Rabbi Olan's response is one of true moral integrity and prophetic challenge.  He demands that among other things the city not fail in its efforts to move forward with civil rights, protections for the hungry and poor, and otherwise earn the good reputation it felt it had lost.

He also worries about a particular sort of problem that he fears may rise up, "We have accepted the personal one which begins by asking, 'what is in it for me?' So we do not help the dependent child adequately, we do not feed the hungry child, and we do not care about slums, drop outs, second class culture. These do not fit our self-interest code of values."

Olan concludes after this that the churches and synagogues cannot simply reflect back the values of the people but talking to them about how they might seek to rise above - and for Olan, the answer is to make concern for others an essential part of who we try to be.  That sounds like such a universal value, but it is truly a Jewish one at its core.

And I believe, it is as resonant today as it was half a century ago.  In many ways it is the antidote necessary to inspire and motivate our current generation of Jews.  They clearly aren't interested in the synagogue as bowling league and casserole bake-off center, but I don't think Rabbi Olan was either.  I think the best ideals of the 60s are still as applicable, if not more so, now - the concern with our fellow human beings and lifting them up.  Recognizing our responsibility to them, as fellow citizens, as Jews, as human beings.

It seems to me we had a president who once delivered just such a message, too.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Benson

From the Jewish Review of Books - Gordis on Conservative Judaism

Been away for a bit.  Hoping to have time to have more to say to you in the weeks ahead.  In the meantime, this from one of my teachers, Rabbi Daniel Gordis.  Thought-provoking article about Conservative Judaism to say the least:

Requiem for a Movement