Parashat Mikeitz 5785
“The waiting is the hardest part Every day you see one more card You take it on faith, you take it to the heart The waiting is the hardest part.” - “The Waiting”, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
“The waiting is the hardest part Every day you see one more card You take it on faith, you take it to the heart The waiting is the hardest part.” - “The Waiting”, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
One of my favorite TV shows growing up (with reruns on METV) was “Green Acres,” the story of Oliver Wendell Douglas, a New York lawyer, and his Hungarian socialite wife, Lisa who move from Manhattan to a farm in a place called “Hooterville.” There they encounter all sorts of characters as they try to make their way in a very different world than they’re used to. Played by the late Ava Gabor, Lisa both fits into the community, and at the same time, doesn’t.
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.
Vayeitzei is a parashah with bookends: It starts with flight and ends with flight; it starts with a pillar and ends with a pillar (מַּצֵּבָ֔ה); it starts with a vow and ends with a vow. Such a nice, tidy frame around, arguably, a lot of commotion. It’s in that commotion, however, where change occurs, insuring that the Jacob at the start of the parashah is not the same Jacob at its end.
How does it feel to be unfavored?
Recently I was thinking a good deal about the fact that with so much going on in Israel, around the world and even here, in the United States, we forget to talk about LOVE. Unfortunately, we constantly worry - no wonder we are called the “anxious generation.”
As Abraham reached the final stage of implementing God’s request — ready to make the ultimate sacrifice of his own son — he suddenly saw a ram caught in the bushes. At the angel’s direction, he lifted the ram and placed it on the altar in place of Isaac, offering it as the sacrifice. For Abraham, this resolved the “test” and maintained the life of his son. But what of the ram, the being that had no choice but to be sacrificed? Besides serving as a substitute for Isaac, what meaning can we derive by looking at the Akeidah from the ram’s perspective?
It’s very different today. Churches, mosques and synagogues dot the landscape of many cities and towns throughout the world. Simply find the front door, enter and join in congregational worship or find a cozy spot within and start your own personal meditation. It has not always been that way. It certainly did not work that way thousands of years ago when one person, and only one person, had the understanding that the world was created by the One. A person would worship the sun, the moon or the stars or anything else within nature, but not their Creator.
I cannot believe that a year has passed since I was invited to lead a Torah study session on this week’s Torah portion – Noah. Just two weeks after the jarring and heinous attack by Hamas on Israel, I could not imagine what I could teach that would bring comfort and strength to the people seated around the Torah study table. And yet… as we explored the various meanings of hamas, and the role of the keshet – the rainbow, it seemed to lift us; well, maybe just a little.
What does it mean to be accountable, to take responsibility? Is it a Jewish imperative? Is it a secular concept? Whom does it apply to and in what circumstances?