Author Archive | Hazon

“Sometimes rupture is necessary and holy. Sometimes disruption is an essential spiritual practice.” In parashat Ki Tissa, we encounter one of the pivotal moments of tension in the Torah. After spending forty days and nights on Mount Sinai, Moses descends, carrying the gift of God’s words on two tablets. As he gets closer to his reunion with the Israelites, he realizes they have constructed an idol and are gathered to worship this golden calf. In his anger, he throws down the tablets, destroying the tangible evidence of God’s relationship with this difficult nation. After some negotiating on their behalf by Moses, God calls Moses back up the mountain to repeat the process. At one point, discussing the first set, God refers to them as the tablets “which you broke, asher shibarta.” (Exodus 34:1) We may want to read these words as a critique of Moses, but Reish Lakish, a former rogue turned famous sage, interprets the comment differently. He says that the word “asher” alludes to the phrase “yasher koach she-shibarta,” meaning, “may your strength be true” or “kudos” (Shabbat 87a). In other words, Reish Lakish believes God is praising, not critiquing, Moses for smashing the tablets. It may seem […]

“Holiness is inside of us, meaning we can embrace shmita, both inside and outside of the Land of Israel, inside and outside of the traditional ways of observing it.” As we continue forward through both the Book of Exodus and the 5782 Shmita year, I am struck by the intensity of the details found within larger Jewish understandings of time, space, and place. Parashat Tetzaveh starts with a heads-up that rituals are about to be presented that must be done forever and ever. The parashah then expounds upon the details of what the priests wore in the Mishkan, and the many sacrifices. How Aaron was to give Olah (burnt, whole) offerings, specifics of Tenufah (waving) offerings, particulars of Ḥataat (sin) offerings, and a whole description of how Aaron and the other priests were going to purify everything and everyone for seven days. The parasha concludes with a reminder that these rituals are holy to God and they must be continued l’dorotaechem (לְדֹרֹתֵיכֶם), for their future generations. This set of instructions feels as technical as those of the shmitah year, Shabbat, and other cyclical practices that we have.The ta’aseh (do’s) and lo ta’aseh (don’t’s) are unpacked, they are multi-sensory experiences, and […]

“When we are able to live generously, then we can create not only a sacred structure, but a more sacred world.”  Parashat Terumah begins the final section of the book of Exodus which deals mostly with the construction of the mishkan, Tabernacle, the Israelites’ portable desert sanctuary. Its opening words instruct the people to bring gifts to contribute to its construction. God tells Moshe to accept gifts from every person asher yidvenu libo, “whose heart so moves him.” How much they should bring is left up to each Israelite. The word yidvenu has the same Hebrew root as nadav, meaning “generous.” God relies on the generosity of the people to fund the building of the mishkan. God is not disappointed. The people overwhelm Moshe with gifts: gold, silver, copper, fine yarns and linen, oil, precious stones and other beautiful things. Moshe ends up with more than he needs. The Israelites’ giving is a wonderful example of nedivut, generosity. Generosity is a middah, a character trait or virtue that we all strive to cultivate. We can be generous with our resources, as well as our time, our wisdom, and our love. Additionally, generosity is a Divine quality. In the Talmud we […]

“Our mastery and possession of creatures and objects is always provisional and limited by the broader guidelines of our creatureliness.” This parashah is known in Hebrew as Sefer Ha-Brit (the Book of the Covenant). It contains the first body of laws in the Torah. These rules— a combination of moral imperatives, social standards, civil and criminal injunctions, and rules for proper worship—are all recognized as the will of God, the embodied consequence of the distinct relationship between God and the people Israel. At the heart of these guidelines for establishing the Beloved Community lie the laws of Shmita:  “Six years you shall sow your land and gather in its produce. And in the seventh you shall leave it untended and unharvested and the destitute of your people shall eat and the wildlife of the field shall eat what is left of them; so shall you do to your vineyard and your olive grove.” The Torah establishes a practice that echoes throughout Mishpatim: our mastery and possession of creatures and objects is always provisional and limited by the broader guidelines of our creatureliness. We are finite in time and understanding, and our ownership is too. The law Is most explicit with […]

“What does it take to build a society that will long endure on the land?”  The highlight of this week’s parasha, the Decalogue, begins with God’s self-identification as having brought Israel “out of the house of bondage” and launches directly into prohibitions of false gods (commandments 1-3). These two ideas – slavery and idolatry – are linked. Slavery, in all its manifestations, means taking human beings, ends in themselves, and making them means to one’s own gratification. Idolatry is the reverse: taking things that are legitimate means to further life, like money, power, achievement – and making them ends, worshiped and sought after as if they were god-like (“their idols are silver and gold”). The twin evils of entrenched oppression and the single-minded pursuit of profits, ignoring questions of justice and health, creates long-lasting impact – “upon the third and upon the fourth generations” – while the opposite too ripples out, a deep commitment to chesed reaches “to the thousandth generation.” At the core of the Decalogue is another image of intergenerational responsibility. Commandments to honor parents, and prohibitions on murder and adultery (5-7) are about the sanctity of life and its creation, the importance of love, honesty and commitment. […]

“This is the strongest lesson of shmita, that the non-human world around and within us is filled with its own intelligence, and its own Torah.” This week’s Torah portion kicks off with our ancestors leaving Mitzrayim (the Biblical Egypt, the place of constriction) and venturing into the Midbar (the desert, the place of speaking or the place that speaks), and as they hesitantly make their way out their enslavers have a turn of heart and begin chasing them. Can you imagine this scene in your mind’s eye? It’s important to visualize it for ourselves because this story holds the image of our neshama (soul/spirit) aching to leave behind all that enslaves it, while our inner fears call on us to go back. This is one part  of soul-yearning to live a more conscious life while other elements inside us continue making excuses for why we must go on consuming, why we must keep ignoring the climatic earthquake that is upon us. As our ancestors make their way towards freedom, they arrive at Yam Suf (the Sea of Reeds) and stop stunned by its shores with the Egyptians behind them, with their place of constriction getting narrower by the moment. At […]

“The plague of darkness evokes imagery of desperation, fear, and of dark times. It is the plague, perhaps, that most echoes the time we live in now.” Parashat Bo occurs in anticipation of Bne’i Israel’s exodus from Egypt. Here, the last three plagues coincide with a divine hardening of Pharaoh’s heart to bring our ancestors into freedom. This journey, which brings us to Torah and mitzvot, is led by a beam of light that bursts forth after generations of darkness. The penultimate plague – where the Israelites enjoy light, while the Egyptians suffer thick, stifling darkness (Exodus 10:23), must have left many Israelites grappling with an existential crisis – of faith and the  future. The plague of darkness evokes imagery of desperation, fear, and of dark times. It is the plague, perhaps, that most echoes the time we live in now. The world currently oscillates between darkness and uncertainty and pockets of light.  Yet while some experience this light, others still suffer. When we aren’t quite sure about what moves about in the shadows, we fear what is there – and what it wants from us. Sometimes, though, the unknown of the darkness can bring about the possibility of hope […]

Shemitah and jubilee ensure that Israeli society will be protective of the weak, combating wage gaps and building a redeemed economy. If it worked with the Exodus, it could work now.   Parashat Shemot begins the second book of the Torah, Exodus, by detailing the background of the Jewish nation’s enslavement, and setting the stage for their ultimate redemption. The entire book of Exodus discusses the Egyptian bondage and the Divine deliverance of the Jewish nation. This miraculous redemption inspired their trek through the desert, including accepting the Torah and ultimately building the nation’s home in the Promised Land, Israel. Understandably, the Exodus plays a significant role in the Jewish heritage.  While the Exodus is central to our thought, seemingly, it could have been from anywhere. Why Egypt? What role does Egypt play in the whole encounter? The Torah itself provides a significant piece of the puzzle. From the days of Avraham, Egypt served as a foil to the ultimate goal of Jewish civilization in Israel. Avraham travels there during a famine in the land. Egyptian grandeur turns off Avraham but seems to have affected Avraham’s nephew Lot. He emerges from Egypt following Avraham from a distance, but his shepherds can […]

We must temper using our own resources to satisfy our individual human desires in recognition of our responsibility to preserve our Earth for the benefit of humanity. Mortality sets the scene for the concluding chapters of Genesis. Vayechi, the last portion of Genesis, tells us generally how both Jacob and Joseph prepared for their own deaths.  The primary emotional force of the portion, though, lies in Jacob’s decision to sermonize to his sons and grandsons as his life was ending.   Jacob’s deathbed statements can be understood in different ways.  Were they blessings as suggested by Genesis 49:28?  Were they prophecies as intimated in Genesis 49:1?  According to one view found in Midrash Rabbah, when Jacob instructed his sons to listen to him muse about their personalities, he meant to signal that their twelve respective tribes were actually one social entity.  Strange, though, to interpret Jacob’s thoughts as being all about unity when he expressed himself so differently about his various children.  Reuben, for example, is castigated for bad acts; Judah’s future is foretold; Joseph is explicitly praised; and the only one of Jacob’s last testaments that refers to more than one of the brothers uses decidedly negative rhetoric to comment […]

“From both the story of Joseph and the practice of Shmita, we learn that the earth, if respected, is capable of producing adequate food. Hunger is a human-caused problem that humans can solve.” Parashat Vayigash is set during the famine that Pharaoh dreamed and Joseph predicted in the previous portion. It features Joseph’s reunion with his brothers and father, the resettlement of his entire extended family in the Goshen region of Egypt, and his on-going program to manage the famine.  Concealed, but not quite, within this story is an important lesson about the global food supply. Egypt and the surrounding region have experienced seven years of plenty followed by drought and famine. Yet, because of shrewd management, there is food in Egypt, enough not only for local consumption but also for export.  The heart of  Joseph’s food management program was collecting surpluses, storing them and redistributing them in times of need. Joseph’s use of that food to nationalize Egyptian lands, and enslave the Egyptian people to Pharaoh are controversial, but a simpler point underlies the story: the world produces enough food to feed its population (although climate change could alter that). Hunger exists because of human-caused storage and distribution problems.   […]

“Therein lies a basic lesson of Shmita: You can’t deprive other people or the land of their freedom in order to preserve your own.” The Shabbat of Chanukah is here. When we left Joseph last week, he was in the dungeon. This week, Joseph gets lifted up from the dungeon and becomes Pharaoh’s right-hand man, second to Pharaoh “in throne only” (Gen. 41:40). All this because Joseph listens to Pharaoh’s dreams, predicts seven years of abundance followed by seven years of famine, and (slyly?) advises Pharaoh to seek out a wise person to carry out a plan. The outlines of the plan are common sense: store up grain each year during the years of abundance, and redistribute that grain during the years of famine (Gen. 41:34-36). Next week, however, we will learn the specifics. After there was no bread left in Egypt, the Egyptian peasants used up all their money to buy grain from what Joseph had stored up. When that was gone, they gave up their animals, and finally, after they had lost their money and their cattle, they gave up themselves and their land, becoming slaves to Pharaoh (Gen. 47:13-23). The peasants had actually grown all that grain. […]