Blog Archives

Korach

6/30/2022

It seems like the embryonic nation of Israel is stuck in a repeating pattern of accomplishment, discontent, failure, punishment, and atonement. After last week’s parsha described the tragic but inevitable story of the spies, now things get personal. Korach, a Levi (and therefore a relative of Moshe and Aharon), along with a group of first-borns largely from the tribe of Reuven, revolt against the authority granted by Hashem to the nation’s leadership. While the dissenters, numbering 250 in all, identify the Kohanim and Levi’im (Priests and Levites) as the subject of their discontent, it’s not clear if they are rebelling specifically against Moshe’s authority, Aaron’s Divinely appointed role, the fact that the first-born have been relegated to a lesser position in the chain of command in favor of the Levi’im, or some combination of the above. The specifics of the Great Revolt and its modern echoes is a subject we’ll deal with this Shabbat morning; please join us in person or online.

Yet, what strikes me, beyond the reverberating frustrations of Moshe, Aharon, and G-d, are the literary devices which are employed to further the story. The Torah proves again that its use of text can be a potent tool in its desire to get the point across. Buried in the greater story are three symbols which the Torah uses. Here’s one you’ve never heard before. Put on your ruby slippers and say it with me: “Fire-pans and almonds and salt (Oh my)!”

Remember Nadav and Avihu, the two sons of Aharon who were Divinely combusted for burning unauthorized offerings from their machtot, fire-pans? Korach, doubtless, did too. Yet when Moshe repeatedly offers 250 rebels the opportunity to recreate the same infraction, knowing that this was to be a test of G-d’s acceptance, they did so, anyway. Surprise, surprise, they suffered the same fate.

They didn’t pay attention to their past. Oh, my!

In the aftermath of the disquiet which followed the Korach incident, when the nation’s lack of faith was addressed by a plague which, after it killed 14,700 people (before it was averted, ironically, by Aaron and a fire-pan with incense), G-d devises a new test to determine the veracity of Aharon’s authority. Aharon and each tribal leader inscribed their names on a staff. As predicted, Aharon’s staff sprouted blossoms and grew almonds overnight. Chazal, our sages, teach us that almonds are known for blooming and bearing fruit quickly; showing that Hashem’s response to our actions will be rapid and dramatic.

Israel learned something important about their present. Oh, my!

Then, at the end of the parsha, a unique phrase occurs in an unexpected context. In reaffirming the permanence of the dedication or redemption of firstborn sons or certain animals to the Kohanim, the Torah refers to this as a “brit melach,” a “salt-covenant.” This phrase, which occurs a grand total of two times in the entire Bible, has a particular significance. Salt is a substance which will never go bad. It is timeless. The odd metaphor is used to show that the unique relationship between G-d and those who He appointed to serve Him is to be lasting and infinite. Those who challenged that authority at the beginning of the parsha should now get the salty message. Regardless of how we may have evolved over time, our relationship with Hashem will last for all time.

We’ve all learned something about our future. Oh, my!

It doesn’t take much Wizardry to figure out that the Torah talks to us on multiple levels at once. We have the benefit of being able to read and re-read the story to glean what we can, new and different, each time. The real challenge, with the Torah as with life, is to try to learn what our experiences past, present, and future have to teach us…the first time. Korach and all those who suffered the fates they did due to spontaneous burial, immolation, or plague missed the signs at the outset, and now exist only as biblical exemplars of what we should avoid.

Let’s face it, the Torah is our life and the length of our days, and there’s no place like Home.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen

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Sh'lach L'cha

6/24/2022

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gChazal, (our blessed sages) teach us that the repeated use of a word in the Torah is a way in which we are supposed to connect the passages which use the same verbiage. Parshat Sh’lach L’cha contains such a linguistic repetition, as a set of bookends to the opening and closing of the weekly portion.

The verb in question is “latur.” In the future plural tense (13:2, word 4 in the Hebrew), it means to spy, to investigate, or to explore. At the opening of the parsha, G-d gives his admittedly reticent permission to have twelve spies be given the authority (“vayaturu”) to explore the promised land. We know the end of the story. 10 out of 12 deliver a report in which the positive is not accentuated, and the negative is not eliminated. G-d’s decree of 38 more years of wilderness wandering follows, as well as the death of the nay-sayers.

But wait. The parsha closes with what we now know as the concluding paragraph of the Shema. We are commanded to tie the tzitzit, fringes, onto our garments as a reminder of all of the commandments. And why? “V’lo taturu…” so that you will not explore after your heart and your eyes after which you may stray (15:39).

Two forms of the same verb are used by the parsha in very different contexts. The opening paragraph grants a begrudging permission to allay the fears of a nation. The closing one is a warning against the lure of idolatry.

As Chazal teach us, the truth lies in between. Looking, searching, studying, and spying are all part of our nature. It is absolutely human to try and figure out the fundamental reality of any situation. Our weakness, however, is revealed when we search with the expected outcome in mind. If we search for failure, we will doubtless find an opportunity to create it. Investigate and learn, and we will find nothing but opportunity.

“Tayarim,” from the same word-root, are ‘tourists’ in modern Hebrew. Just like our ancestors, we are tourists searching old places for new meaning. Let’s make sure that, as we dig into the past to inform our present, that we don’t decide what we’re going to uncover before we actually see it, feel it, study it, and learn from it. The opening of Sh’lach L’cha teaches us to learn without preconceived notions of what we want to learn. It’s closing teaches us that avoiding the allure of what we think may be true has some ‘fringe’ benefits.

Shabbat Shalom, and Chodesh Tov, a good month!

Rabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen

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B'ha'alotcha

6/16/2022

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One paragraph of Parshat B’ha’alotcha, describing Moses’ declarations when the Ark of the Covenant was removed for travel and then when it was replaced, is strangely set off from the surrounding text with two inverted Hebrew letters (the upside-down “nuns”). Speculation as to why these rare diacriticals are found, even in a handwritten Torah scroll, abounds. All seem to agree that this text was inserted for a reason; the question is, why? To provide a positive break between a series of less-than-favorable descriptions of Israel’s actions and behavior? Inserted parenthetically since the preceding text describes the Ark’s transport? Or possibly: related to the surrounding text, which describes the beginning of a journey which, for Israel, will seemingly go in circles, but for us, describes the future?

First, to the text (Num 10:35-6):

35: When the Ark would travel, Moses would say: “Arise, Ado-nai, and scatter your enemies, and may your foes flee from before you!”

36: And when [the Ark] rested, he would say: “Return, Ado-nai, to the myriad thousands of Israel!”

These verses are familiar to us; we recite them as part of the Torah service every time the scroll(s) are removed and replaced from the Aron Kodesh. But contextually, really? Asking G-d to scatter our enemies as we prepare to read the Torah? Begging to have the Divine presence restored after(!) we read? Is there something missing here?

Verse 35: Chazal tell us that, instead of being carried in its normal place at the center of the procession, the Ark was initially carried at its front. This was done as a bolster to the nation’s growing sense of security under G-d’s protection. Going forward, however, the focus would change. Instead of being a defense against military foes, snakes, or scorpions (as per various sources), Moshe’s declaration can best be described as an embodiment of the mission of Torah. When Israel moved from place to place as they traversed the wilderness, they were similarly moving from a place of known quantities and relative safety on an uncertain and unpredictable journey. What types of physical, spiritual and cultural adversity would they face at their next resting point? The underlying message is that the guidance given us by the Torah is the defense against the misappropriations and distractions with which our spiritual “enemies” can distract us. When we lift the Torah from its resting place, we are open to the suggestions of transience.

When the Torah comes to rest, however, we restore our equanimity. As Moshe expresses in Verse 36, G-d returns to the multitudes of Israel when the nation and its Torah are at peace. Absent the distractions and diversions of our past situations, we can focus instead on our present and future. What a blessing it would be for us to be able to look only forward, without regard to any suffering we experienced in generations past?

The Talmud describes these two verses as an entirely separate “book” of the Bible. I would agree. In two familiar verses, Moshe delivers a beautiful summary of our relationship to G-d, Torah, and peoplehood, now and forever.

May we always be always able to lift the Torah from its current resting place to new heights.

May the Torah always rest among our multitudes at peace.

And may you have a Shabbat Shalom.

Rabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen

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Naso

6/9/2022

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Naso, the longest parsha in the Torah, contains 2,264 words. Of them, however, 15 (in the Hebrew…) are particularly familiar:

MAY G-D BLESS YOU AND KEEP YOU.

MAY G-D SHINE HIS COUNTENANCE UPON YOU AND BE GRACIOUS TO YOU.

MAY G-D LIFT HIS COUNTENANCE TO YOU AND GRANT YOU PEACE (Numbers 6:24-26).

This, of course, is the text of the Priestly Blessing which Hashem dictates to Moses for transmission to Aaron, for use eternally as the formula by which the Kohanim (priests) will serve as the conduit of blessing from G-d to the people, receiving a Divine blessing for themselves as part of the process. To this day, the Birkat Kohanim is used, more or less in its original context, when the Kohanim bless the people on holidays, and when quoted liturgically in the daily Amida and when we bless our children on Shabbat and at numerous other times. With words so familiar and iconic, it’s not surprising that we don’t often take the time to consider what may possibly be happening underneath the surface. As you may expect, Chazal (our blessed sages) have spent many centuries and much ink trying to unpack what could be going on in these three elegant verses. While it would be possible to spend years exploring every nuance of G-d’s formula for His own blessing to be delivered by priestly proxy, here is one possible interpretation: G-d’s blessing is really an opportunity.

MAY G-D BLESS YOU AND KEEP YOU: Almost universally, Chazal interpret the first line as a reference to material blessings; the basic necessities of life which are necessary for our physical survival. Absent food, economic means, social interactions, shelter, and safety, fragile beings such as we would quickly perish. The first three Hebrew words assure that G-d will bless us with our physical needs, then keep (literally, “guard”) us so that we remain sustained forever. Should we remain deserving, this will be our legacy. These opening words, however, are not an end unto themselves. They are intended as a foundation for the second verse:

MAY G-D SHINE HIS COUNTENANCE UPON YOU AND BE GRACIOUS TO YOU: The Rabbis stress that the suggested anthropomorphism of G-d’s face is not the point here. The important part is the first of the five words in this verse: “Ya’er” in the Hebrew, denoting an active act of illumination. The same root is used in Genesis when the sun and the moon are created, and the same verb form is used before the crossing of the Reed Sea when the pillar of cloud supernaturally illuminates the night. This line is taken to refer to the light of Torah (a classic metaphor), the illumination of G-d’s presence in our lives, and/or both. G-d’s light smiles upon us, and then, as suggested by the conclusion of the verse, the Divine “graciousness” refers to the opportunity we have to reflect Hashem’s light. With our fundamental needs assured, and with the spiritual tools we need at our disposal, it’s now our turn.

MAY G-D LIFT HIS COUNTENANCE TO YOU AND GRANT YOU PEACE: Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Einhorn (?-1862) wrote that actively turning your face to someone is an expression of a positive attitude. If we are angry with someone, guilty, or ashamed, we will look away or avoid them. G-d here, in the final seven words of the blessing, looks to us hopefully to see if we have put the pieces together. The final line of Birkat Kohanim is where we have the mandate to combine the material blessings of the first verse with the spiritual opportunities of the second. The “peace” referred to here is not the translated word which denotes the opposite of “war.” It is rather the Hebrew concept which comes from the root “shalem,” meaning “complete.” Our task is to create the balance of the physical and the spiritual; recognizing that the true blessing is having the opportunity and the ability to take the lead from Hashem and combine the duality into a holy whole.

In essence, therefore, G-d’s blessing is a conditional proposition. That’s why the text is constructed as it is: 3 words, 5 words, 7 words. Each step of our mandate becomes more complex but represents a further potential connection to the Divine. Once we have united body and soul in harmony with Hashem, we will have fulfilled the terms of the Birkat Kohanim bargain, in which G-d opens the doors, and bids us enter. Buried in the structure is the real blessing. Its 15 words equal the gematria (numerological value) of the name of G-d. Birkat Kohanim is not an invitation to sit back and bask in the benefits of a heavenly blessing. It’s a challenge to take our G-d-given opportunity to become one with Hashem.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen

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Bamidbar

6/2/2022

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One of the things that we learn early on in the Torah is that a name is not just a name. Our modern Jewish tradition is to name our progeny after relatives; our individual practices determine whether the names are chosen to honor living people or those who have passed. The Torah, however, imbues names with meaning. They can embody the circumstances of their birth, or a prediction of what their life’s story will entail. In other cases, names can be changed in order to reflect a change in circumstances. In B’reshit (Genesis), Avram and Sarai become Avraham and Sarah, with the extra letter “hei” in their names reflecting their individual unity with G-d. Ya’akov becomes Yisrael after he “struggles with the Divine.” But there are some names which occur in multiple forms, leading us and Chazal, our blessed sages, to draw conclusions as to why the names are inconsistent.

Parshat Bamidbar (Numbers 1:1-4:20), which we read this Shabbos, contains one such reference. The prince of the tribe of Gad is listed in 1:14 as Elyasaf ben (son of) De’uel. A chapter later, in 2:14, his father is named Re’uel. Ramban (1194-1270 Spain) offers a cogent interpretation: Re’uel is a contraction of the words “Ra’yon El,” (the thoughts of G-d). De’uel combines “Da’at El,” (knowledge of G-d). Elyasaf’s father, is being recognized and complimented for having been able to combine the two. Clearly, the merits of the nearly unknown father informed the selection of his son as the head of the tribe. Don’t hold your breath, though. In chapter 13, the ill-fated spy from the tribe of Gad who was sent on the mission to check out Canaan was named Geu’el (salvation of G-d). We know his fate. And, by the way, he’s named last.

The Torah reading for the first day of Shavuot, famously containing the Ten Statements, comes from Parshat Yitro (Exodus 18:1-20:23). Yitro (Jethro), Moses’ father-in-law, breaks the biblical record for pseudonyms: Re’uel, Yeter, Yitro, Chovav, Chever, Keini, and Putiel. Chazal have an explanation for every one; identifying each as making a specific point regarding how this Moabite priest made his journey from idolatry to being a devoted servant of Hashem and an astute advisor to His greatest prophet.

The Torah reading for the second day of Shavuot (Deuteronomy 15:19-16:17) contains the greatest Name of all. But all the names of the Divine are not equal. In this familiar passage giving us a rundown of the holiday cycle, we most often read the double-appellation of the most well-known names of G-d: the ineffable name pronounced Ado-nai, representing G-d’s quality of mercy, followed by Elo-him, representing justice. The two most emergent elements of Hashem (the Name) are combined, appropriately, in our ritual observance. But read the rest of the Bible. There are dozens of ways in which G-d’s name is represented. Each new name focuses on a different quality, action, power, preference, blessing, or curse. As humans, unable to fathom the Divine in its totality, we must resort to using linguistic euphemisms in order to make a paltry attempt at comprehending G-d’s complete essence.

Shakespeare asked, “What’s in a name?” I’m fairly sure that Juliet was more concerned with Montagues and Capulets than Elyasaf, Yitro, and G-d. Yet, as we read the parshsa which is the prelude to the establishment of the Tabernacle/Temple ritual, and then celebrate the receiving of the Torah on Shavuot, we can put the pieces together. May we all take this “three-day holiday” to get a blessing from the beauty of names…and Names.

May we have both thoughts and knowledge of G-d, as did Elyasaf. May our relationship with G-d and our people constantly evolve and mature as did Yitro. May we constantly, and limitlessly, find new ways to relate to G-d, even if it means creating a new paradigm in order to understand how the connection is being made.

And may you all have a Shabbat Shalom, and a Chag Sameach.

Rabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen

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