Blog Archives

Parshat of the Week -- Vayera

10/29/2021

Chayei Sara (the lifetime of Sarah) ironically and famously opens with the matriarch passing away at the age of 127. As part of the mourning process, Abraham must secure a grave site and attend to her burial. The irony continues in that, despite having come to the land that G-d has promised him, the patriarch must nevertheless negotiate with the Hittites to arrange for the proper acquisition of the property. According to Rashi, this is one of Abraham’s ten trials. As the process unfolds, we get a glimpse of a timeless Jewish reality. Approaching the Hittites for the public and formal transaction, Abraham says, “I am a stranger and a resident among you.” Unsure as to how he will be treated, he is completely above board with his wariness. Abraham approaches the locals with self-deprecation and humility, since he doesn’t know yet whether he will be regarded with honor or as an interloper. The answer is both. The elders who facilitate the transaction refer to Abraham as “a prince of G-d,” and treat him with the utmost deference. Ephron, however is the owner of the land Abraham wishes to purchase, containing a field and the cave of Machpela. The negotiation between Abraham and Ephron is overly formal, but it becomes clear that the distinguished Ephron has no intention of giving the land away. When all the compliments, bowing, and shows of generosity are concluded, Abraham buys the land… at full price. The exchange is a telling one. When Abraham described the duality of being a Jew in a non-Jewish society, he was acknowledging that we constantly strive to strike that balance; upstanding citizens of the disparate lands in which we live, yet also somewhat alien because our primary allegiance, ultimately, is to G-d and Torah. Abraham’s circumstances dictate that he honor Sarah by providing for her proper burial, yet he must also play out this public formality with Ephron and the other civic leaders in order to ensure that the transaction is properly executed and witnessed, and Machpela will belong to him in perpetuity. There can be a very fine line between the stranger and the resident. When in harmony, the dual roles we play can result in times of incredible prosperity and productivity. But if we allow one side to take over, either by becoming so assimilated that we lose our identity or by segregating ourselves so completely that we have no role to play in society at large, then we put ourselves at risk. What Abraham knew all those millennia ago is no less true today.

Shabbat ShalomRabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen

0 Comments

Parshat of the Week -- Vayera

10/22/2021

0 Comments

Most of the time, the Torah teaches us in broad, bold strokes. But sometimes, the lessons we are supposed to learn are presented in the subtleties within the text. In Vayera, amidst the ongoing trials of Abraham, we learn something fascinating about…. G-d. Seeing the wickedness of Sodom, Amora, and three other cities, the Almighty has the ability to hit the reset button on yet another group of sinners. After all, hasn’t this been the Divine response to the failure of Adam and Eve, the generation of the Flood, and the overreaching builders of Babel? Why should these five cities’ worth of moral degenerates be any different? But what is so unique about this scenario is that we are given a glimpse of G-d’s inner monologue. He steps outside of Himself, and we share the Divine thought process. “Should I hide my actions from Abraham?” He wonders. The Almighty acknowledges Abraham’s faithfulness and potential for greatness. G-d weighs his options and decides to not decide. He turns the fate of the doomed cities into a teaching moment for Abraham… and for us. He opens the door for Abraham to intercede on behalf of the sinners, which the patriarch does immediately and instinctively. “Will you eliminate the righteous as well as the wicked?” Abraham challenges, and then opens up the bidding for the minimum number of upstanding citizens for whose sake the cities would be spared. The process doesn’t change the outcome in the least; the condemned cities are still destroyed. But this brief episode, unfolding over the course of only a few verses, teaches us volumes. First, that we can be Divine if we take a step back and consider our options rather than proceed on autopilot. The outcome may ultimately be better. Second, our primary instinct should be to defend the defenseless. Even if we can’t affect change, our automatic response should be at least to try. This brief moment of Divine introspection may not have altered the course of the Biblical story, but if we pay attention to the lessons we learn from between the lines, who knows how many souls we could save?
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen

0 Comments

Parshat of the Week -- Lech Lecha

10/14/2021

0 Comments

The Midrash tells us that Creation was a result of G-d’ multiple attempts to create the universe, which resulted in the one in which we now reside. We read in the Torah that the first generation of humans failed in their mandate, and, 10 generations later, so did Noah’s. Another 10 generations hence, we now arrive at Avram, soon to be renamed Avraham. What made him different from his patriarchal predecessors? It’s subtle, but significant. If you do the Biblical math, Abraham was still a relatively young man in his 50s when Noah died. This means that he not only knew his ancestor’s story; he also knew the person. Why did Avraham succeed where his ancestors failed?

The big change from Noah’s generation to Avraham’s is not in the patriarchs; it’s G-d’s . The first 20 generations of humanity are based on the Divine supposition that it is possible to create a world based on a G-dly ideal. With Avraham, G-d changes his tack. Instead of trying to create a perfect world in which humans will diligently comply, G-d chooses to put Avraham through his paces, giving him the famous 10 trials of faith which will prove his worthiness to be the representative of G-d on earth. Knowing the context and the rules of the game through his great great….grandfather, Avraham is well suited to the task. He therefore transcends the Heavenly expectations; he will not only become a faithful servant of G-d, but also a vocal advocate for humanity, taking on our cause when we turn out to be, well, human.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen

0 Comments

Parshat of the Week -- Noach

10/8/2021

0 Comments

Truth be told, Noah is a somewhat problematic biblical hero. The Torah is not terribly effusive in its description of his virtues; saying that he was “righteous in his generation,” suggesting that at another time and place, he might not have fared so well by comparison. When he is told that all humanity will be destroyed due to their immorality, he does not argue with G-d on behalf of mankind, as, say Abraham or Moses would have. He simply does what he was told, building the Ark and populating it with his family and the animals which will survive the Flood. The Rabbis jump into the breech, crediting Noah with spending 120 years attempting to reform the sinners, and demonstrably growing the trees with which he would construct the Ark in an effort to inspire repentance. A number of miracles are attributed to the story, not the least of which is that a boat, which according to the biblical text was just over 100,000 square feet, was able to contain all the flora and fauna known to man, as well as the provisions which would sustain them on their journey. But Noah himself? We don’t even hear his voice until the end of the story, after he plants a vineyard, gets drunk, and debases himself. And the first and only words that we hear from the savior of humanity? A curse on one son, a blessing for another, and a neutral reference for the third. Not exactly a towering figure of homiletical brilliance. But that’s not the point of Noah the character. He’s meant to be the silent “doer.” Whether the miracles or other superlatives are accurately attributed to him or not, his actions saved humanity and nature from itself; a lesson which is as current today as it was in Noah’s time. Just last week, 23 species were officially declared extinct by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, victims of climate change and our destruction of their native habitats. Perhaps Noah had it right all along. Reticent, imperfect, problematic Noah teaches us a very important lesson. It’s through our actions that we can save and preserve the world. As long as we take on the responsibility, we don’t need to utter a sound.Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen

0 Comments