I am far behind on my Torah blogging for numerous personal reasons. But, here I am again, ready to dive in and try! While I was off-blog, Joseph was born to Jacob, raised, persecuted by his brothers, thrown in a pit, and ended up in Egypt where he rose to power, second only to Pharoah. He has sent for his family and forgiven his brothers, understanding that God had planned all of this for a higher reason. At the beginning of this portion, his father, Jacob/Israel, is about to die.
Jacob sends for Joseph to ask a favor: That he be buried in the place HIS father, Abraham, purchased to be a burial ground for his family. What strikes me most about this is the way it is phrased. Jacob asks his son for this favor, PLEASE. It embodies the whole "circle of life" thing. The parent becomes the child and the child must care for their parent.
After the burial, everyone returns to Egypt. Joseph's brothers are all still worried that Joseph is secretly still angry with them for the way they treated him and they tell Joseph a bold-faced lie in order to get him to forgive them. Joseph says, "Of COURSE I forgive you! All this had to happen in order to put me in a position where I could help people!" Joseph is the only one of his family who sees the Big Picture. The brothers are happy he has forgiven them, but to Joseph, there is nothing to forgive because it was all in God's hands in the first place. I guess the lesson here...at least what I am gleaning from it, is that old saying "When you're walking through hell, keep on walking!"
I am still in Dallas, and I'm going to be for longer than I'd hoped for. I have been fairly upset at the prospect, feeling really, really ready to be back home in the Sonora Desert of Tucson. I guess what I need to do at this point is just let it go, be realistic about what it will take to get there, and believe that God has me still here for a reason. Maybe it is just to see Andy's wedding...who knows? But I am here and I will just have to enjoy my friends and the things that I like about the city rather than focus on the things I don't like. Joseph didn't sit and bemoan his lot in life. He just kept going and his life became very rich, spirtually and materially. I have a more realistic plan for getting back to Tucson and, as long as I stick to it, I will be nestled under the Catalina Mountains again soon...soon enough. I will try to be like Joseph, and be happy with what I have now, rather than fantasize about how it would be better IF.
Shalom rav!
Lev
Friday, December 21, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
Va-Yetzei-- Ladder to heaven? Not yet!
We now have the story of Jacob's travels. It starts with one of the most famous passages of prophecy ever. Jacob is travelling alone, he lays his head down on a stone at nightfall and dreams of a ladder from earth to heaven with angels ascending and descending. He has a conversation with God where it is reiterated that his descendants will be vast and will inherit the land on which he travels. Jacob awakens and says, "Surely God was in this place and I did not know."
How can the rest of the parsha NOT be a disappointment?? It follows Jacob as he indentures himself for the hand of Rachel, only to be given her older sister Leah instead. Thereupon he signs on for another 7 years to get Rachel. So he has two wives and numerous children from them and their maids, given to him by his wives as concubines. His riches increase dramatically and he eventually leaves the land of his father-in-law.
It is hard to get past the encounter at the beginning, though. I read it over and over, trying to discern some further, deeper meaning in its sparse detailing. It's what we all want. We all want God to speak to us very directly, very personally, awake or sleeping. A dream that you know is communication with God?? I want that! But even then, it doesn't mean it's going to make life easier. It may make it harder! Before his direct encounter with God, Jacob had to chop wood and haul water. After his direct encounter with God...Jacob had to chop wood and haul water. Nothing changed. Jacob was still part of the world and he had to continue on his journey. His descendants would inherit all the land he could see?? WHAT descendants? He didn't even have a wife yet! Jacob could not sit back and say, "Wow, I had an encounter with God. I don't have to do anything else now, I have achieved the ulitmate goal." Nope. No resting on your laurels. You still have to keep going.
We can stop at the point of Jacob's revelation and wonder at it and even be envious. But we still must keep going. There's more...even beyond the confusing tale of multiple moms and their battle for Jacob's affection, the details of the flock that make my head spin, and the whole intrigue of fleeing Laban with a secretly stolen idol in Rachel's possession.
Torah may be the ladder with which to ascend and descend from Heaven, as Jacob dreamed. But we can't get caught up in that. We still have to live our lives and see what we can do in THIS world, before ascending to another.
Shalom rav!
Lev
How can the rest of the parsha NOT be a disappointment?? It follows Jacob as he indentures himself for the hand of Rachel, only to be given her older sister Leah instead. Thereupon he signs on for another 7 years to get Rachel. So he has two wives and numerous children from them and their maids, given to him by his wives as concubines. His riches increase dramatically and he eventually leaves the land of his father-in-law.
It is hard to get past the encounter at the beginning, though. I read it over and over, trying to discern some further, deeper meaning in its sparse detailing. It's what we all want. We all want God to speak to us very directly, very personally, awake or sleeping. A dream that you know is communication with God?? I want that! But even then, it doesn't mean it's going to make life easier. It may make it harder! Before his direct encounter with God, Jacob had to chop wood and haul water. After his direct encounter with God...Jacob had to chop wood and haul water. Nothing changed. Jacob was still part of the world and he had to continue on his journey. His descendants would inherit all the land he could see?? WHAT descendants? He didn't even have a wife yet! Jacob could not sit back and say, "Wow, I had an encounter with God. I don't have to do anything else now, I have achieved the ulitmate goal." Nope. No resting on your laurels. You still have to keep going.
We can stop at the point of Jacob's revelation and wonder at it and even be envious. But we still must keep going. There's more...even beyond the confusing tale of multiple moms and their battle for Jacob's affection, the details of the flock that make my head spin, and the whole intrigue of fleeing Laban with a secretly stolen idol in Rachel's possession.
Torah may be the ladder with which to ascend and descend from Heaven, as Jacob dreamed. But we can't get caught up in that. We still have to live our lives and see what we can do in THIS world, before ascending to another.
Shalom rav!
Lev
Tol-dot -- Jacob's a jerk
In Tol-dot, we are given the story of Isaac after his father has died. He and Rebekah have two sons, twins, born to them: Esau and Jacob, who were struggling in the womb; they emerged, Esau first with Jacob clinging to his heel.
We are told that Isaac re-digs the wells his father had dug which were plugged up by the Philistines. He gives them the same names. This seems to have two meanings: It refers back to the notion of comfort that we saw in parsha Hayyei Sarah. Isaac is remembering his father and making sure that his good acts were not lost. But it can also be seen as a way of re-affirming what his father taught him. To remember God and to follow the teachings his great father had given him. To keep digging deeper to find the source of all life and make it accessible to others. This act says "I remember and I will do."
After this, though, the portion gets more dificult. The story of the brothers is really disturbing to me. The younger, Jacob, tricks the elder, Esau, out of his birthright and his father's blessing. And this is the forefather of our people? Are we supposed to be proud of the way Jacob tricked his old, dying father into giving him a blessing instead of the brother whom it was intended for? It's appalling! And it leaves Esau crying, begging for SOME kind of blessing from his father. Isaac states specifically that he is going to give his innermost blessing to Esau when he returns with a meal for him; instead, Rebekah dresses Jacob up in Esau's clothes and sends him in to get the blessing. Why? Why? Why? And when Isaac asks how he was able to capture game and prepare it so quickly, Jacob answers, "The Lord your god granted me good fortune." So, he's lying to his father, and he's claiming that God made it easy for him. For this he's blessed? When Esau comes back and all is understood, he stands crying, pleading, begging his father for a blessing, but Isaac has given it to Jacob. I feel so badly for Esau. What am I supposed to learn from this heinous scene?? It certainly doesn't make me want to follow in the steps of Jacob, though that's where the bloodline flows and from whence Judaism will spring.
But there has to be something. Torah is not about how to screw your brother.
Is this a lesson in mind over muscle? Esau was a man who relied on his brawn to make a living, while Jacob was more of a thinker. A tiller of soil, he had to plan and plant, seed and sow. He had to think about what would come from his work and plan for what to do after that. Esau wanted, he got, but his plans were for the immediate, never thinking ahead. When he asks Jacob for some lentil soup early on in the portion, he readily sells Jacob his birthright without a thought to the ramifications therein. His only concern is "Gosh, I'm hungry, that soup looks good; sure, you can have my birthright for a bowl of soup!" Not too clever, he. Are we to learn here that brute force is not the way? One must use their brain to move ahead? One must make plans, one must look ahead and examine the possible outcomes of our actions? We can't dance all summer away without preparing for the cold winter. We cannot only live for immediate gratification. We must also plan for bad times. "Hope for the best, expect the worst/ You could be Tolstoy or Fannie Hurst."
Jacob's a jerk...but he's clever, and he knew what had to be done. Esau had no foresight and that's what Judaism needed before there was Judaism.
Still, I can't help feeling badly for Esau and I cry with him, "Bless me too!!"
Shalom rav!
Lev
We are told that Isaac re-digs the wells his father had dug which were plugged up by the Philistines. He gives them the same names. This seems to have two meanings: It refers back to the notion of comfort that we saw in parsha Hayyei Sarah. Isaac is remembering his father and making sure that his good acts were not lost. But it can also be seen as a way of re-affirming what his father taught him. To remember God and to follow the teachings his great father had given him. To keep digging deeper to find the source of all life and make it accessible to others. This act says "I remember and I will do."
After this, though, the portion gets more dificult. The story of the brothers is really disturbing to me. The younger, Jacob, tricks the elder, Esau, out of his birthright and his father's blessing. And this is the forefather of our people? Are we supposed to be proud of the way Jacob tricked his old, dying father into giving him a blessing instead of the brother whom it was intended for? It's appalling! And it leaves Esau crying, begging for SOME kind of blessing from his father. Isaac states specifically that he is going to give his innermost blessing to Esau when he returns with a meal for him; instead, Rebekah dresses Jacob up in Esau's clothes and sends him in to get the blessing. Why? Why? Why? And when Isaac asks how he was able to capture game and prepare it so quickly, Jacob answers, "The Lord your god granted me good fortune." So, he's lying to his father, and he's claiming that God made it easy for him. For this he's blessed? When Esau comes back and all is understood, he stands crying, pleading, begging his father for a blessing, but Isaac has given it to Jacob. I feel so badly for Esau. What am I supposed to learn from this heinous scene?? It certainly doesn't make me want to follow in the steps of Jacob, though that's where the bloodline flows and from whence Judaism will spring.
Is this a lesson in mind over muscle? Esau was a man who relied on his brawn to make a living, while Jacob was more of a thinker. A tiller of soil, he had to plan and plant, seed and sow. He had to think about what would come from his work and plan for what to do after that. Esau wanted, he got, but his plans were for the immediate, never thinking ahead. When he asks Jacob for some lentil soup early on in the portion, he readily sells Jacob his birthright without a thought to the ramifications therein. His only concern is "Gosh, I'm hungry, that soup looks good; sure, you can have my birthright for a bowl of soup!" Not too clever, he. Are we to learn here that brute force is not the way? One must use their brain to move ahead? One must make plans, one must look ahead and examine the possible outcomes of our actions? We can't dance all summer away without preparing for the cold winter. We cannot only live for immediate gratification. We must also plan for bad times. "Hope for the best, expect the worst/ You could be Tolstoy or Fannie Hurst."
Jacob's a jerk...but he's clever, and he knew what had to be done. Esau had no foresight and that's what Judaism needed before there was Judaism.
Still, I can't help feeling badly for Esau and I cry with him, "Bless me too!!"
Shalom rav!
Lev
Friday, November 2, 2007
Sarah -- Comfort for the soul
This week's portion seems to be misleadingly named "Sarah." It's not about her, per se. She dies at the end of the previous portion and this portion is more about Abraham securing a burial site for her and a wife for their son Isaac.
This seems to be more about the need for comfort. Abraham finds a place where he can lay the remains of his wife. Why do this? Out of respect for the dead? Perhaps. But I think it's more for Abraham's comfort. With her safely entombed in the cave at Machpelah, he can take some comfort in knowing that her earthly remains are nearby.
I don't mean to belittle that by saying I understand that feeling from how I felt when my last dog died; he was my first dog who was my own, rather than one of the ones I grew up with along with my brothers and sisters. When it was time for Nigel to go, I was in a very dark place (see my commentary on B'reishit for a little more on THAT subject) and it layered yet one more heap of grief on a life that seemed to be over-flowing with it at the time. When Nigel was put down, he was cremated, and a discussion was had as to where to spread his ashes. I didn't want to spread them anywhere. I needed Nigel nearby, even if it was only ashes. And those ashes are still with me, in a cedar box that has his nametag on the lock. I now have two more dogs that I love dearly, but it still gives me some comfort to have Nigel's earthly remains with me. It seems silly, actually. That's not Nigel. That's not Nigel at all. But it's all I have that used to be him, and I still love him to this day and I want that with me.
After Sarah is buried, Abraham instructs his servant to find a wife for Isaac. The servant is sent to Abraham's home town where he meets Rebekah who agrees to go back with him. They see each other and fall in love. And Torah tells us that Isaac was comforted by Rebekah following the death of his mother. Torah tells us it is not good to suffer alone. A lesson I never seem to learn. When I am depressed or just lonely, I don't reach out much for comfort. Instead, I try to bury myself in busy-ness. Do this, do that; watch this movie, listen to that cd. I don't ever call anyone just to say hi and catch up. I am afraid to bother anyone because I don't think I'm worth the bother. But I would be very upset if I learned that any of my friends or family didn't call me when they were feeling like that. Of COURSE they're worth it and it's no bother. When they tell me the same, I thank them, but still don't try it.
So, in a way, though seemingly absent from the parshah that bears her name, I think Sarah is fairly present. She has so affected her husband that he must find a suitable place for her remains so he will always know where she is. That's comforting. And her son grew up to be a caring man who was not afraid to seek comfort from others. Also, Isaac was the only patriarch who was married monogamously. It's never stated how women of the Bible felt about being one of several wives, but could it be that Sarah was maybe not so fond of it and instilled in Isaac some sense that he should love and care for one woman? Who knows, really? But it's a nice thought.
Shalom rav!
Lev
This seems to be more about the need for comfort. Abraham finds a place where he can lay the remains of his wife. Why do this? Out of respect for the dead? Perhaps. But I think it's more for Abraham's comfort. With her safely entombed in the cave at Machpelah, he can take some comfort in knowing that her earthly remains are nearby.
I don't mean to belittle that by saying I understand that feeling from how I felt when my last dog died; he was my first dog who was my own, rather than one of the ones I grew up with along with my brothers and sisters. When it was time for Nigel to go, I was in a very dark place (see my commentary on B'reishit for a little more on THAT subject) and it layered yet one more heap of grief on a life that seemed to be over-flowing with it at the time. When Nigel was put down, he was cremated, and a discussion was had as to where to spread his ashes. I didn't want to spread them anywhere. I needed Nigel nearby, even if it was only ashes. And those ashes are still with me, in a cedar box that has his nametag on the lock. I now have two more dogs that I love dearly, but it still gives me some comfort to have Nigel's earthly remains with me. It seems silly, actually. That's not Nigel. That's not Nigel at all. But it's all I have that used to be him, and I still love him to this day and I want that with me.
After Sarah is buried, Abraham instructs his servant to find a wife for Isaac. The servant is sent to Abraham's home town where he meets Rebekah who agrees to go back with him. They see each other and fall in love. And Torah tells us that Isaac was comforted by Rebekah following the death of his mother. Torah tells us it is not good to suffer alone. A lesson I never seem to learn. When I am depressed or just lonely, I don't reach out much for comfort. Instead, I try to bury myself in busy-ness. Do this, do that; watch this movie, listen to that cd. I don't ever call anyone just to say hi and catch up. I am afraid to bother anyone because I don't think I'm worth the bother. But I would be very upset if I learned that any of my friends or family didn't call me when they were feeling like that. Of COURSE they're worth it and it's no bother. When they tell me the same, I thank them, but still don't try it.
So, in a way, though seemingly absent from the parshah that bears her name, I think Sarah is fairly present. She has so affected her husband that he must find a suitable place for her remains so he will always know where she is. That's comforting. And her son grew up to be a caring man who was not afraid to seek comfort from others. Also, Isaac was the only patriarch who was married monogamously. It's never stated how women of the Bible felt about being one of several wives, but could it be that Sarah was maybe not so fond of it and instilled in Isaac some sense that he should love and care for one woman? Who knows, really? But it's a nice thought.
Shalom rav!
Lev
Friday, October 26, 2007
Va-Yera -- Domestic abuse??
Va-Yera is not easy. Again. Boy, when I thought about doing this blog, I hadn't really expected it to be so difficult...at least, not in the way it has been.
In this portion, Abraham haggles with God in an attempt to save Sodom and Gomorrah...and we all know how that turned out. But it's brilliant. Abraham convinces God that the cities should be saved if He can find 50 good people living there...oh, wait. Make that 45. Uh, no...make it 40. Okay, wait: 30. No, no, no...20. Ok, my final offer: 10. If You can't find 10 good people there, go ahead and rain fire and sulfur upon them. Yeah, so...fire and sulfur rained on them; but Abraham tried!!Just before the destruction, though, Lot, Abraham's nephew, who is now living in Sodom, is told by angels to take his family and get the hell outta Dodge before it all happens. They have a hard time leaving the place, but in the end, they do go...though Lot's wife turns around to watch and is turned into a pillar of salt (and I can't help picturing Dom Delouise in the movie "Wholly Moses" sneaking a couple scrapes off of Lot's wife onto his dinner plate when no one is looking).
Then there is a very disturbing scene wherein Lot's daughters get him drunk and "LAY WITH HIM," their father, and bore a son each by him...their father. Their father. Uncle Dad.
Then God tells Abraham and Sarah that they will have a son in a year. They, who are pushing a hundred years old each. The thought of this makes Sarah chuckle with doubt. God says "You WILL have a son, and you'll name him Yitzhak (anglicanized into Isaac)," which means "He laughs." Yeah, well...I don't think he was laughing when God told Abraham to bind and "offer him up" on an alter. Before that, though, Sarah sends her slave and the son she bore to Abraham away so that the son cannot inherit what is Isaac's. They are given some bread and a flask of water and sent out into the desert. They run out of bread and water and it gets to the point that Hagar (the slave/mom) sets the baby down under a bush and walks away so she cannot see her child die.
The portion ends with the very famous binding and offering up of Isaac, subject of much discussion and very popular amongst the Renaisance painters, which is halted at the last possible second by angels. In his place, a suddenly discovered ram is offered up.
I had planned on writing something completely different which would have allowed me to use Bob Dylan's "Highway 61" in the subject line. But I hadn't finished and I went to tonight's services and everything changed. The very brilliant Rabbi David Stern spoke eloquently and passionately about domestic abuse. It was very moving. He was clearly disturbed by his own words and had to pause for a moment to regain himself. If I had the complete text of his sermon, I would enter it here. Unfortunately, all I can do is say how much it moved me and made me realize AGAIN how lucky I am to have these clergy persons in my life.
But it also put this whole portion into a different light as I started thinking about why THAT sermon during THIS parsha? It got me thinking about Hagar and baby Ishmael forced out of their home because Sarah was so jealous of them. Lot having to flee his home while all his friends were killed in a rain of fire; then to be bizarrely raped by his daughters! Then, certainly, not least, Isaac being tied up and a knife being angled at him by his father.
By today's standards, these are all scenes of domestic violence. Terrible, terrible things inflicted upon people without their consent by people in their own households. We are taught that the akida, the binding of Isaac, is a lesson about devotion to God. Well, you know, bully for Abraham I'm sure, but what was going through Isaac's mind?? Later rabinnic writings try to assure us that, by the time it got to that point, Isaac knew what was going on and he went without a qualm. Isaac was, after all, 37 years old by that time...and Abraham was well over 100! It's doubtful Abraham could have done any of this without Isaac's approval. But still...what was it like after that? Were there anymore Father/ Son picnics? You know, I joke but really, how did this affect Isaac?
And Hagar, who was given to Abraham by Sarah specifically to conceive a son, now being driven from her home by that very same woman BECAUSE OF that son they wanted at first, now heart-broken, certain of her child's death, leaving him under a bush so she couldn't witness the inevitable?
Both stories have happy endings, though. God intervenes and all is made right. Through Isaac, Abraham's bloodline is carried on and the nation of Israel is born. God opens Hagar's eyes to a spring right over there which she hadn't seen before she cried out for help; and she and Ishmael go on to live happy and fullfilling lives.
In all honesty, I don't know what to say about Lot. That's a pretty vile scene they describe there, and I don't see any "happy ending" for him. But we can at least say he had to be drugged to do what was done. He would not have done it otherwise. It's a very disturbing scene of male rape...but, man, by his own daughters! Ugh.
But I am always driven to find the positive spin of Torah stories. This is a book to learn and live by. The lesson cannot be "Offer up your son and banish the woman with your bastard son to die in the desert."
Both stories end with sudden new sight. Rather than Isaac being killed, Abraham is stopped by angels and a ram is suddenly seen entangled in a bush; and that becomes the offering to God.
Hagar, crying, scared and alone cries out to God and her eyes are suddenly opened to a spring of water that she didn't see before.
What I see here is that, even when things are at their worst, one needs to just keep going and keep going. But, ugh, that sounds so Hallmark! And I should talk! Sometimes, all I can think is how tired I am of being the only person in my household. Sometimes, it's all I can do to go from moment to moment...especially on days off when I don't even have work to push me through. I guess maybe I SHOULD talk...because I guess I'm sort of a master at "keep going, keep going." Sometimes, all that keeps me going is knowing that the weekend will bring these magnificent times at the synagogue. Sometimes, that's all I have. The rabbi's sermon may have been disturbing but I am intensely grateful to have witnessed it.
But I am not a person who can say to an abused person, "Hold on, keep going." How terribly presumptious and egotistical of me that would be. I cannot possibly know what that is like or how deep the fear factor is. All I can do is hope that such a person will eventually find the courage to get out. That they'll eventually see that the abuser is always wrong and that there is help to be had. Maybe they'll get out and that's when they have to "keep going." Maybe when they're out, their eyes will suddenly open and they'll see their own worth and that there is never, ever any justification for what they went through. And if they have children, that they will grow up understanding that also and not propogate the abuse.
I am having a very hard time trying to wrap this up, so I'm just going to stop. I have read and re-read this entire post several times. Edited and re-edited and I still feel like it has gotten away from me. If you plowed through it and didn't hate it, I'm glad. I certainly tried.
And this is why I love Torah study so much!
Shalom rav!
Lev
In this portion, Abraham haggles with God in an attempt to save Sodom and Gomorrah...and we all know how that turned out. But it's brilliant. Abraham convinces God that the cities should be saved if He can find 50 good people living there...oh, wait. Make that 45. Uh, no...make it 40. Okay, wait: 30. No, no, no...20. Ok, my final offer: 10. If You can't find 10 good people there, go ahead and rain fire and sulfur upon them. Yeah, so...fire and sulfur rained on them; but Abraham tried!!Just before the destruction, though, Lot, Abraham's nephew, who is now living in Sodom, is told by angels to take his family and get the hell outta Dodge before it all happens. They have a hard time leaving the place, but in the end, they do go...though Lot's wife turns around to watch and is turned into a pillar of salt (and I can't help picturing Dom Delouise in the movie "Wholly Moses" sneaking a couple scrapes off of Lot's wife onto his dinner plate when no one is looking).
Then there is a very disturbing scene wherein Lot's daughters get him drunk and "LAY WITH HIM," their father, and bore a son each by him...their father. Their father. Uncle Dad.
Then God tells Abraham and Sarah that they will have a son in a year. They, who are pushing a hundred years old each. The thought of this makes Sarah chuckle with doubt. God says "You WILL have a son, and you'll name him Yitzhak (anglicanized into Isaac)," which means "He laughs." Yeah, well...I don't think he was laughing when God told Abraham to bind and "offer him up" on an alter. Before that, though, Sarah sends her slave and the son she bore to Abraham away so that the son cannot inherit what is Isaac's. They are given some bread and a flask of water and sent out into the desert. They run out of bread and water and it gets to the point that Hagar (the slave/mom) sets the baby down under a bush and walks away so she cannot see her child die.
The portion ends with the very famous binding and offering up of Isaac, subject of much discussion and very popular amongst the Renaisance painters, which is halted at the last possible second by angels. In his place, a suddenly discovered ram is offered up.
I had planned on writing something completely different which would have allowed me to use Bob Dylan's "Highway 61" in the subject line. But I hadn't finished and I went to tonight's services and everything changed. The very brilliant Rabbi David Stern spoke eloquently and passionately about domestic abuse. It was very moving. He was clearly disturbed by his own words and had to pause for a moment to regain himself. If I had the complete text of his sermon, I would enter it here. Unfortunately, all I can do is say how much it moved me and made me realize AGAIN how lucky I am to have these clergy persons in my life.
But it also put this whole portion into a different light as I started thinking about why THAT sermon during THIS parsha? It got me thinking about Hagar and baby Ishmael forced out of their home because Sarah was so jealous of them. Lot having to flee his home while all his friends were killed in a rain of fire; then to be bizarrely raped by his daughters! Then, certainly, not least, Isaac being tied up and a knife being angled at him by his father.
By today's standards, these are all scenes of domestic violence. Terrible, terrible things inflicted upon people without their consent by people in their own households. We are taught that the akida, the binding of Isaac, is a lesson about devotion to God. Well, you know, bully for Abraham I'm sure, but what was going through Isaac's mind?? Later rabinnic writings try to assure us that, by the time it got to that point, Isaac knew what was going on and he went without a qualm. Isaac was, after all, 37 years old by that time...and Abraham was well over 100! It's doubtful Abraham could have done any of this without Isaac's approval. But still...what was it like after that? Were there anymore Father/ Son picnics? You know, I joke but really, how did this affect Isaac?
And Hagar, who was given to Abraham by Sarah specifically to conceive a son, now being driven from her home by that very same woman BECAUSE OF that son they wanted at first, now heart-broken, certain of her child's death, leaving him under a bush so she couldn't witness the inevitable?
Both stories have happy endings, though. God intervenes and all is made right. Through Isaac, Abraham's bloodline is carried on and the nation of Israel is born. God opens Hagar's eyes to a spring right over there which she hadn't seen before she cried out for help; and she and Ishmael go on to live happy and fullfilling lives.
In all honesty, I don't know what to say about Lot. That's a pretty vile scene they describe there, and I don't see any "happy ending" for him. But we can at least say he had to be drugged to do what was done. He would not have done it otherwise. It's a very disturbing scene of male rape...but, man, by his own daughters! Ugh.
But I am always driven to find the positive spin of Torah stories. This is a book to learn and live by. The lesson cannot be "Offer up your son and banish the woman with your bastard son to die in the desert."
Both stories end with sudden new sight. Rather than Isaac being killed, Abraham is stopped by angels and a ram is suddenly seen entangled in a bush; and that becomes the offering to God.
Hagar, crying, scared and alone cries out to God and her eyes are suddenly opened to a spring of water that she didn't see before.
What I see here is that, even when things are at their worst, one needs to just keep going and keep going. But, ugh, that sounds so Hallmark! And I should talk! Sometimes, all I can think is how tired I am of being the only person in my household. Sometimes, it's all I can do to go from moment to moment...especially on days off when I don't even have work to push me through. I guess maybe I SHOULD talk...because I guess I'm sort of a master at "keep going, keep going." Sometimes, all that keeps me going is knowing that the weekend will bring these magnificent times at the synagogue. Sometimes, that's all I have. The rabbi's sermon may have been disturbing but I am intensely grateful to have witnessed it.
But I am not a person who can say to an abused person, "Hold on, keep going." How terribly presumptious and egotistical of me that would be. I cannot possibly know what that is like or how deep the fear factor is. All I can do is hope that such a person will eventually find the courage to get out. That they'll eventually see that the abuser is always wrong and that there is help to be had. Maybe they'll get out and that's when they have to "keep going." Maybe when they're out, their eyes will suddenly open and they'll see their own worth and that there is never, ever any justification for what they went through. And if they have children, that they will grow up understanding that also and not propogate the abuse.
I am having a very hard time trying to wrap this up, so I'm just going to stop. I have read and re-read this entire post several times. Edited and re-edited and I still feel like it has gotten away from me. If you plowed through it and didn't hate it, I'm glad. I certainly tried.
And this is why I love Torah study so much!
Shalom rav!
Lev
Friday, October 19, 2007
Lech L'cha---Put a motor in it
In this week's portion, Abram gets the word from God: MOVE ON!
"Go forth from your native land and your father's house to the land that I will show you." Abram takes his wife, Sarai, and nephew, Lot, along with all their possessions and heads on to Canaan.
This is one of my favorite portions as it has so much emotional resonance for me, as it does with anyone who has packed up and moved away from their home and family. Who knows what's really ahead? You have some idea that it's going to be good, possibly better than what you're leaving behind; but you don't really know that. All you know for sure is that some voice inside you said "Lech l'cha." Go forth.
There may be hard times; you may not get along with your travelling companions; you may find yourself in dangerous places; you may find yourself having dark dreams of ominous portent. You may say to yourself, "This is not my beautiful house!" You may say to yourself, "My god, what have I done??" Lech l'cha.
I am not the first and will certainly not be the last to talk about how life is a series of lech l'cha-ing. My own life seems to have had more of it than I would honestly say I'm happy about. I'm in Texas, fer pity sake! How did I get here?? Literally one of the last places in the country that I ever wanted to be in.
But because I have been placed here, I have learned a lot about myself. I've been through unbelievably fantastic times and unbearably sad, crushing times. It has brought me to the brink of absolute and utter despair and led to a fantastic rising up of spirit.
Abram's journey is a road map of our own. It can be seen as an optimistic sign that things get better. It can't have been all that easy to be living amongst idol worshippers to suddenly say, "Hey, those are all just chunks of rock and wood. You can't SEE God like that. You're silly to try," and then leave everything you've ever known because God has told you to, or at the very least, your faith in God has told you to. As a modern person, it's hard not to wonder about the psychological state of an ancient person such as Abram. Did he go through any sort of midnight of the soul, searching and finally understanding that he had to follow his heart? Or was it just as simple as, "God said to Abram, 'Lech l'cha?'" and off he went? What I would give for a simple "lech l'cha" without all the baggage. To know right now, for a fact that my decisions were the right decisions and not have to wait weeks, months, years, or NEVER to know if it was the right thing to do. But we can't know. There's no way to know. An angel is not going to come down and show us what would have happened if our decisions were different. We don't get to pull a McFly and deck the bad guy at the dance and have our future become great, where our kids think we're the coolest. We live from point to point, making decisions as we go along and hoping that they work out. They flutter behind us, our possible pasts.
Abram had it easy. God's voice was loud and clear. Nowadays, God's voice is hard to hear over my bills screaming to be paid, while I am trying to prioritize them and hope that it's the right juggling sequence to keep the rent paid, the cable on, the phone connected, the electricity on, and the dogs fed and healthy. If I stop to actually think about it...oh, boy that's scary.
But, as always happens when reading Torah, something pops up that I forget was there. Maybe not forget, really, but need reminding of its existence. In verse 15, these words popped out at me: "'Fear not, Abram, I am a shield for you; your reward is very great' ...and because he put his trust in the Lord, He reckoned it to his merit." In other words, as they say in AA, "Let go, let God."
So, lech l'cha is a veritable orchard of emotional fruit. The anxiety of stepping off into the abyss, falling backward, hoping and trusting that someone is there to catch you. The thrill of lighting off for the territories. Looking at a chunk of marble and seeing David hidden inside. Over the river and through the woods...let me see that map again...
It's starting out as Abram of Ur, but finishing as Abraham, father of us all. Lech l'cha is scary but it has to be done. How often? As often as it takes.
Shalom rav!!
Lev
"Go forth from your native land and your father's house to the land that I will show you." Abram takes his wife, Sarai, and nephew, Lot, along with all their possessions and heads on to Canaan.
This is one of my favorite portions as it has so much emotional resonance for me, as it does with anyone who has packed up and moved away from their home and family. Who knows what's really ahead? You have some idea that it's going to be good, possibly better than what you're leaving behind; but you don't really know that. All you know for sure is that some voice inside you said "Lech l'cha." Go forth.
There may be hard times; you may not get along with your travelling companions; you may find yourself in dangerous places; you may find yourself having dark dreams of ominous portent. You may say to yourself, "This is not my beautiful house!" You may say to yourself, "My god, what have I done??" Lech l'cha.
I am not the first and will certainly not be the last to talk about how life is a series of lech l'cha-ing. My own life seems to have had more of it than I would honestly say I'm happy about. I'm in Texas, fer pity sake! How did I get here?? Literally one of the last places in the country that I ever wanted to be in.
But because I have been placed here, I have learned a lot about myself. I've been through unbelievably fantastic times and unbearably sad, crushing times. It has brought me to the brink of absolute and utter despair and led to a fantastic rising up of spirit.
Abram's journey is a road map of our own. It can be seen as an optimistic sign that things get better. It can't have been all that easy to be living amongst idol worshippers to suddenly say, "Hey, those are all just chunks of rock and wood. You can't SEE God like that. You're silly to try," and then leave everything you've ever known because God has told you to, or at the very least, your faith in God has told you to. As a modern person, it's hard not to wonder about the psychological state of an ancient person such as Abram. Did he go through any sort of midnight of the soul, searching and finally understanding that he had to follow his heart? Or was it just as simple as, "God said to Abram, 'Lech l'cha?'" and off he went? What I would give for a simple "lech l'cha" without all the baggage. To know right now, for a fact that my decisions were the right decisions and not have to wait weeks, months, years, or NEVER to know if it was the right thing to do. But we can't know. There's no way to know. An angel is not going to come down and show us what would have happened if our decisions were different. We don't get to pull a McFly and deck the bad guy at the dance and have our future become great, where our kids think we're the coolest. We live from point to point, making decisions as we go along and hoping that they work out. They flutter behind us, our possible pasts.
Abram had it easy. God's voice was loud and clear. Nowadays, God's voice is hard to hear over my bills screaming to be paid, while I am trying to prioritize them and hope that it's the right juggling sequence to keep the rent paid, the cable on, the phone connected, the electricity on, and the dogs fed and healthy. If I stop to actually think about it...oh, boy that's scary.
But, as always happens when reading Torah, something pops up that I forget was there. Maybe not forget, really, but need reminding of its existence. In verse 15, these words popped out at me: "'Fear not, Abram, I am a shield for you; your reward is very great' ...and because he put his trust in the Lord, He reckoned it to his merit." In other words, as they say in AA, "Let go, let God."
So, lech l'cha is a veritable orchard of emotional fruit. The anxiety of stepping off into the abyss, falling backward, hoping and trusting that someone is there to catch you. The thrill of lighting off for the territories. Looking at a chunk of marble and seeing David hidden inside. Over the river and through the woods...let me see that map again...
It's starting out as Abram of Ur, but finishing as Abraham, father of us all. Lech l'cha is scary but it has to be done. How often? As often as it takes.
Shalom rav!!
Lev
Friday, October 12, 2007
Noach-- Babel on and on...
Everyone knows this one! The earth has become one big Pleasuredome and God decides to wipe it out and start over using the lineage of Noach. An ark is built, big enough to hold breeding stock of every animal on the planet...built in 7 days, no less...and God commences flooding the place. When the world dries out, everyone gets out of the boat and proceeds to re-populate the place.
This has not been an easy one to write about. I wonder about the episode of Noach's drunkeness after the flood is over. He curses his youngest son who sees him naked, and blesses his other two sons for covering him up. What am I to learn from this? Don't seek my father's nudity? Don't see my father drunk? Don't see any figure of authority drunk and naked?? If I do, don't spread it around but, instead, cover it up? What is this nakedness? Was Noach really naked, or was Ham just seeing his dad as he truly was? Are we not supposed to know our authority figures in any personal way? Always hold them high, place them on a pedestal? If a person exposes a fault, do we ignore it?
Those are all really good questions. I know that I tend to place people whom I admire and look up to on a pedestal; people of authority. I don't really want to see them as just another person. I know intellectually that they are, but I'd rather see them fully dressed, rather than putting one shoe on at a time like the rest of us dogfaces.
And what about that "exposes a fault" line up there? This actually made me think of my job.
Part of my compensation is tips from clients. We have a set idea of what is an acceptable tip. If a person falls short of that expectation, we hurl a curse behind their back. But I don't know their whole story. What if their tip is really all they can afford? What if they're giving me a HUGE tip, relatively speaking? Am I right to call them a cheap bastard if I don't get what I'm expecting?
This really opens up my mind. I need to be more careful about that. With words the world was created. They're very powerful. This person...no person needs me hurling expletives/ curses at them.
But I guess what really bothers me about the drunken Noach story is that you just get the feeling that there's something missing! Ham saw his father naked...aaaaannnd?? There are midrashim (later rabbinic writings that try to fill in the storylines) that make it sound like there may have been more going on, but those are just midrash. Midrash are often interesting, but they're not part of the story. They're just projections. I could say, "Ham jumped into the tent, grabbed Noach's penis and went 'HONK HONK!! Then laughed" and say that's why Noach cursed him, but there's nowhere in the Torah that says that, so it's just me, a guy 5000 years later saying it. No basis for it, but I had to justify Noach's curse.
WHY did Noach curse Ham? The best I can figure is that it comes down to respect. What I see here is that Noach was in his own tent; the entire world was just destroyed and he is one of only eight people who survived. He was chosen by God Himself to remain alive and repopulate the world. I imagine a person would feel pretty mixed up about that, if one was a righteous person, as Noach was. A man who had no ill will towards his fellow man. But he was chosen to live, while thousands, possibly millions died. I would feel great that God chose me out of everyone; but I think I would have some pretty heavy surivor's guilt, too. So, my grapes have finally ripened, and in my own tent, behind closed doors, I have some wine...I have quite a bit of wine and I get pretty drunk. So maybe I flop down on my bed to sleep and my junk pops out. Why, then, is my youngest son poking his head into my tent and ogling my package...and then running off to tell his brothers about what he saw? I think that was the sin. Ham was disrespectful. Torah goes on about respecting your elders, so that makes sense to me. Be respectful of others; don't go telling tales and don't stare when you see their faults exposed. You've got your own to deal with.
This portion also gives us the story about The Tower Of Babel. 340 years after the flood, people decide to build a city and a tower "with its top in the sky, to make a name for ourselves." The ego of this, the lack of God recognition, causes God to put a stop to the construction by "confusing their tongue" so no one can communicate. This one leapt out at me in a way it never previously did. This one made me see a great explanation for the Jewish tradition of giving anonymous tzedakeh (charity, basically). This tells us not to seek glory for our works, but rather let others enjoyment of the work be our reward. I like that one a lot.
This has not been an easy one to write about. I wonder about the episode of Noach's drunkeness after the flood is over. He curses his youngest son who sees him naked, and blesses his other two sons for covering him up. What am I to learn from this? Don't seek my father's nudity? Don't see my father drunk? Don't see any figure of authority drunk and naked?? If I do, don't spread it around but, instead, cover it up? What is this nakedness? Was Noach really naked, or was Ham just seeing his dad as he truly was? Are we not supposed to know our authority figures in any personal way? Always hold them high, place them on a pedestal? If a person exposes a fault, do we ignore it?
Those are all really good questions. I know that I tend to place people whom I admire and look up to on a pedestal; people of authority. I don't really want to see them as just another person. I know intellectually that they are, but I'd rather see them fully dressed, rather than putting one shoe on at a time like the rest of us dogfaces.
And what about that "exposes a fault" line up there? This actually made me think of my job.
Part of my compensation is tips from clients. We have a set idea of what is an acceptable tip. If a person falls short of that expectation, we hurl a curse behind their back. But I don't know their whole story. What if their tip is really all they can afford? What if they're giving me a HUGE tip, relatively speaking? Am I right to call them a cheap bastard if I don't get what I'm expecting?
This really opens up my mind. I need to be more careful about that. With words the world was created. They're very powerful. This person...no person needs me hurling expletives/ curses at them.
But I guess what really bothers me about the drunken Noach story is that you just get the feeling that there's something missing! Ham saw his father naked...aaaaannnd?? There are midrashim (later rabbinic writings that try to fill in the storylines) that make it sound like there may have been more going on, but those are just midrash. Midrash are often interesting, but they're not part of the story. They're just projections. I could say, "Ham jumped into the tent, grabbed Noach's penis and went 'HONK HONK!! Then laughed" and say that's why Noach cursed him, but there's nowhere in the Torah that says that, so it's just me, a guy 5000 years later saying it. No basis for it, but I had to justify Noach's curse.
WHY did Noach curse Ham? The best I can figure is that it comes down to respect. What I see here is that Noach was in his own tent; the entire world was just destroyed and he is one of only eight people who survived. He was chosen by God Himself to remain alive and repopulate the world. I imagine a person would feel pretty mixed up about that, if one was a righteous person, as Noach was. A man who had no ill will towards his fellow man. But he was chosen to live, while thousands, possibly millions died. I would feel great that God chose me out of everyone; but I think I would have some pretty heavy surivor's guilt, too. So, my grapes have finally ripened, and in my own tent, behind closed doors, I have some wine...I have quite a bit of wine and I get pretty drunk. So maybe I flop down on my bed to sleep and my junk pops out. Why, then, is my youngest son poking his head into my tent and ogling my package...and then running off to tell his brothers about what he saw? I think that was the sin. Ham was disrespectful. Torah goes on about respecting your elders, so that makes sense to me. Be respectful of others; don't go telling tales and don't stare when you see their faults exposed. You've got your own to deal with.
This portion also gives us the story about The Tower Of Babel. 340 years after the flood, people decide to build a city and a tower "with its top in the sky, to make a name for ourselves." The ego of this, the lack of God recognition, causes God to put a stop to the construction by "confusing their tongue" so no one can communicate. This one leapt out at me in a way it never previously did. This one made me see a great explanation for the Jewish tradition of giving anonymous tzedakeh (charity, basically). This tells us not to seek glory for our works, but rather let others enjoyment of the work be our reward. I like that one a lot.
Also in this portion: God says we can eat meat.
Shalom!
Lev
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)