וְיֵעָשׂוּ כֻלָּם אֲגֻדָּה אֶחָת לַעֲשׂוֹת רְצוֹנְךָ בְּלֵבָב שָׁלֵם
וְיֵעָשׂוּ כֻלָּם אֲגֻדָּה אֶחָת לַעֲשׂוֹת רְצוֹנְךָ בְּלֵבָב שָׁלֵם
Our parashah this week opens with a somewhat disturbing series on scenarios – a man takes a captured woman and makes her his wife, a man with two wives tries to favor the child of his preferred wife, and a rebellious son is killed for not listening to his parents. Rashi, based on Midrash Tanhuma, explains that this sequence is interconnected – forcing this woman to be his wife will lead to hatred and attempting to disinherit her son, leading to a rebellious child.
I recently visited the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston and managed to have timed my visit to be able to view the exhibit “Hear Me Now: The Black Potters of Old Edgefield, South Carolina”. It was beautiful, and it was painful. Beautiful, because the pottery was subtly exquisite. Painful, because each piece was made by an enslaved human being, subjected to horrors we cannot begin to imagine. In the South in the mid-1800s, the phrase “buy local” had a whole different connotation. “Buy local” meant support the slave industry with your economic decisions. Don’t buy from the North – goods made by free people. The paradoxical mix of beauty and pain found in the Old Edgefield pottery is not so uncommon. We find it frequently in the Torah. The beauty is in the fact that the words are part of our ancient and sacred tradition. The pain is in what those words say.
Click HERE for an audio recording of this D’var Torah
|
Click HERE for an audio recording of this D’var Torah
|
A D’var Torah for Parashat Ki Teitzei
By Rabbi Matthew Goldstone
The topics of racism and racial justice have been on many of our minds over the past several months. One particular issue that I have been thinking about is that while many of us might decry racism, we may nevertheless unwittingly be participants in perpetuating policies and practices that reinforce racial inequality. We are not alone in this, nor is it a purely modern phenomenon. Already in the Torah we find judgmental assumptions based upon ancestry rather than individuality.
Our parasha this week delineates several categories of people who are not permitted to enter into the congregation of the Israelites, including the Ammonites and the Moabites. Anyone belonging to these groups is automatically labelled as unacceptable because their ancestors “did not meet you with food and water on your journey after you left Egypt and because they hired Balaam son of Beor, from Pethor Read More >
A D’var Torah for Parashat Ki Tetzei
By Rabbi Bruce Alpert (’11)
As a rabbinical student, I attended a lecture taught by a sofer – a scribe – who demonstrated for us some of the tools he used in creating a Torah scroll. Among them was a sheet of parchment covered with ink blotches. The scribe showed us how, before beginning to work on the scroll, he would inscribe the name Amalek on this sheet and then blot it out. Thus did he honor (if not exactly fulfill) the commandments in this week’s Torah portion to both remember Amalek and erase the memory of him (Deuteronomy 25:17-19).
This exercise strikes me as a clever if incomplete way of dealing with apparently contradictory commandments. There are other places in Deuteronomy where we are asked to reconcile commandments or statements that are at odds with each other. Notably, two weeks ago, in Parashat Re’eh, we read first that “there shall be Read More >
Restoring What Has Been Lost
A D’var Torah for Parashat Ki Teitzei
by Rabbi Rena Kieval (’06)
When life gets busy, with many distractions, I have a tendency to misplace objects: my keys, my cell phone, or a piece of mail with important information. Most of us have had the experience of losing an item whose absence disrupts the tasks of daily life. When that happens, a possession can take on an importance out of proportion to its true value. Even when we lose an object that is not especially essential, something feels awry, out of kilter. Lost objects can have a strange power, an ability to make everything feel disrupted. Conversely, when a lost object is located or returned, the relief can be huge: order seems to be restored.
The mitzvah of hashavat aveidah, the obligation to return lost objects to their owner, is stressed in the Torah and later rabbinic tradition. Parashat Ki Teitzei includes this mitzvah among its treasure trove Read More >
by Rabbi Isaac Mann
Parashat Ki Tetze is replete with laws and regulations, some of which are found elsewhere in the Torah and some of which are partially or completely new. It would appear that the section towards the end of the parashah (Deut. 25:13-16) that deals with honest weights and measures is of the former type. The Torah here specifies that one may not have two types of weighing stones in one’s pouch – a large one and a small one (even gedolah u’ketanah) – nor may one have two types of ephahs (an ephah is an ancient Hebrew measure) in one’s home – a large one and a small one (ephah gedolah u’ketanah). These items were used for weighing and measuring merchandise that was bought and sold. But rather one must have only an honest stone (even shelemah va-tzedek) and an honest ephah (ephah shelemah va-tzedek).
As Rashi explains, quoting the Sifre Read More >
By Susan Elkodsi
“And Jacob left Beersheva, and he went to Haran. And he arrived at the place and lodged there because the sun had set” (Gen. 28:10-11).
The term bashert is often used when speaking about falling in love, or when something happens that we truly feel was “meant to be.” We read that Jacob was forced to camp out bamakom, “at the place,” on his way from Beersheva to Haran, because the sun had set. The intellectual, left side of my brain knows that it would have been dangerous for him to continue traveling in the dark, but the more creative, right side of my brain, is convinced that it was bashert that he stopped in this particular place. It was here, bamakom, that Jacob had the dream about angels going up and down a ladder, and when he awakened from his sleep, he said, Akhen, yesh Adonai bamakom hazeh va’anokhi lo yadati, “Indeed, the Lord is in this place, and I Read More >
September 11th: Remembering to Forget, Forgetting to Remember
By Rabbi Regina L. Sandler-Phillips
“Remember what Amalek did to you on the way, in your going-out from Egypt….erase the memory of Amalek from under the heavens; do not forget!” (Deuteronomy 25:17, 19).
As we approach the 10th anniversary of the tragedies that shook our city, our nation and our world, the final words of this week’s Torah portion are stark: Evil can be personified, and Amalek − the personification of evil throughout the ages − must be destroyed.
Yet questions present themselves. How do we “Remember” to “erase…memory”? If memory is erased, how can we “not forget”? And how do we understand exactly “what Amalek did”?
In the original narrative, we are told only that “Amalek came and fought with Israel” (Exodus 17:8). As the story is retold in this week’s portion, we learn of Amalek that “he tailed you, all the weakened-ones behind you; and you, weary Read More >
©2023 Academy for Jewish Religion
