וְיֵעָשׂוּ כֻלָּם אֲגֻדָּה אֶחָת לַעֲשׂוֹת רְצוֹנְךָ בְּלֵבָב שָׁלֵם
וְיֵעָשׂוּ כֻלָּם אֲגֻדָּה אֶחָת לַעֲשׂוֹת רְצוֹנְךָ בְּלֵבָב שָׁלֵם
One night many years ago, I drove to the home of a congregant to lead an evening shiva minyan. As I approached the house, I saw that it was dark, but with candle flames flickering in the windows. Having walked into a variety of interesting shiva practices, I wondered what unusual ritual I was about to encounter – a séance? – and hoped it would be something I found reasonable.
“Why? Because, I said so!” Many of us heard those words as children, when we questioned something we were told to do. The reason given was, “Because I said so!” We ourselves may have said those words, as parents or teachers, in our roles as authority figures.
This week’s parashah, Behukotai, is named for hukkim, the rules mentioned in the opening verse. According to rabbinic tradition, hukkim are statutes for which there is no rationale. We are to obey them “because God said so.” The sages of the Talmud note, “And you shall keep my statutes (hukkotai; Leviticus 18:4)” refers to rules which may be challenged, because the reasons for them are not known. They cite a list of examples of such hukkim, including the prohibition against eating pork, against wearing shatnez (garments of diverse fabrics), and the scapegoat of the Yom Kippur ritual. The Talmudic passage concludes, “And lest you say these are meaningless acts, the Read More >
In challenging times, how do we stay strong and sustain our spirits? When I am in need of sustenance for my soul, I find myself turning to stories of people who retained faith, hope and their humanity in the most horrific times and circumstances. A midrash on this week’s parashah, VaYakhel, imagines such a story. It is a story of women, from the ancient narrative of our people’s enslavement in Egypt.
“How many children do you have?” This question, often posed as a simple social pleasantry, can be a complex one for a bereaved parent. Does one inject the intense, personal topic of a deceased child into a casual conversation with a stranger? Or does one ignore, not count, the child who is physically absent, but is still present in one’s heart and family?
God is out of patience, ready to give up on the grumbling Israelites. God and Moshe have attempted to transform a group of homeless, freed slaves into a nation, while the people have struggled with dissension, lack of faith and understandable fears about their future. They complain, rebel and grumble. (The Book of Numbers might also be called the Book of Grumblers!)
In this week’s parasha, this “generation of the wilderness,”dor ha-midbar, has committed the second of its most egregious acts of rebellion. Earlier, they built and worshipped a golden calf. In Shelah lekha, twelve scouts, a leader from each tribe, report on their mission to check out the promised land. They all agree that the land is fertile and desirable, but ten of the twelve recommend against going forward, stirring fear and doubt and demoralizing the people. The Israelites declare, “If only we had died in the land of Egypt! Or if only we might die in the wilderness!” And Read More >
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