A Taste of Torah - Noach

In Noach, this week's Torah portion, the legend of Noah and the Ark is followed by the story of the Tower of Babel. In the narrative, the people all band together to create a tower that will reach heaven. They indicate that their intention is to make a name for themselves. They want to be remembered. But according to the midrash, in building the tower, the people become more concerned with the structure and lose sight of their connection to one another. As bricks fall, they become enraged at how their loss delays the project, but when people fall from the tower, no one seems to care.

The people of the Tower of Babel do make a name for themselves, in the end. Their tower does not reach heaven, but they are remembered for losing sight of what really matters, the people who are in our lives. We often focus on how much we can acquire, how much we can do, but at Judaism's core is an intention to see how much we can be. We are, after all, human beings, not human doings.

A Taste of Torah - B'reishit

This week we begin the Torah again with the first portion, B’reishit, at the beginning of the book of Genesis. One of the narratives in this portion is the story of Cain and Abel. Cain and Abel are Adam and Eve’s sons. Each makes an offering to God. When Abel’s offering is accepted and Cain’s is not, Cain becomes enraged and kills his brother. God confronts Cain and asks him, “Where is your brother, Abel?” Cain responds and says, “I do not know. Am I my brother’s guardian?”

The Hebrew words that translate as ‘am I my brother’s guardian’ are ‘ha-shomer achi anochi.’ The Hebrew letter hey at the beginning of the phrase is translated as what is called an interrogative hey, a hey that indicates that a question is coming. But the other use of a hey at the beginning of a Hebrew word is to indicate the word ‘the.’ So, the sentence could read, “The guardian of my brother is ‘Anochi.’” Anochi is one of the Hebrew words for ‘I.’ It is the word for ‘I’ that God uses to refer to God’s self. Cain could be saying to God, “The guardian of my brother is Anochi; You, God, should have been looking out for my brother.” Up until this point in Torah, no one has ever died. It is possible that Cain didn’t even know that he was capable of killing Abel and he reminds God that God is responsible, too. We bear responsibility for our actions, but we have the authority to hold God accountable, too.

A Taste of Torah - Simchat Torah-Sh'mini Atzeret

When we finish reading most books, we move on to the next book in the series or to a new book. Once in a while, we return to a favorite book and re-read it some time later, but hardly ever do we start a book again as soon as we finish it. Tonight is not only Shabbat, but also Simchat Torah-Sh'mini Atzeret, when we end the book of Deuteronomy and begin again with Genesis.

As Jews, we re-read Torah over and over again, starting again the moment we finish, to show us that what Torah has to teach us is never-ending. We read the same books, the same portions, the same words over and over again, not because something in them has changed, but because something in us has changed. Each time we re-read those words, we hear something different because we are now different.

Chazak, chazak, v'nitchazeik... Be strong, be strong, and together let us be strengthened!

Sukkot: Season of Gratitude

Tonight at sundown begins the festival of Sukkot. Our Torah reading for Sukkot is Leviticus 23:33-44. The text tells us when Sukkot takes place, that we are to live in a sukkah for seven days, and make use of four species: the palm, willow, and myrtle (that make the lulav) and the etrog.

Earlier this week, Ruth Brin, an accomplished Jewish author, poet, and liturgist died. Her poems appear in just about every Reform, Conservative and Reconstructionist prayer book. Following is one from her book Harvest: Collected Poems and Prayers titled "Sukkot" (pp. 161-2). Zichrona livracha, may the memory of Ruth Brin be an everlasting blessing.

On our tables are the harvests of the earth,
pears and grapes, corn and peppers;
we thank You for the food which sustains
us in all seasons of the year.

In winter we stand at our windows looking out
upon dreary trees;
long ago the harvest was taken, only dry stalks remain,
and frozen groudn beneath the snow.

We thank You for shelter, for the body that shelters the spirit,
for the house and the city and the nation which shelter us.

For the talents of those who design and build,
for the ability of those who make shelters of justice
and structures of peace.

In the spring, after rain, our eyes are filled with loveliness;
greening lawn, opening bud, darting bird.

To thank You for fruitful earth and talented people
is not enough;
there is life and growth, perception,
consciousness, logic and truth,
and because of these there is Your gift of freedom.

We thank You that we are not like bud or bird,
but being human, are free to choose
even between good and evil, life and death.

In July, in the warm sweet days of summer,
we thank You for beauty.

The oaks cast their deep shadows on the lawn,
and we thank You for love:

That we dwell in the shadow of Your love,
that we are able to love,
even as You love us.

Now at Sukkot, the apples hang ripe and heavy
on the trees,
the trembling leaves shine red and gold in the sunlight.

You are the source of the radiance of the sun,
the bridegroom,
and of the fruitfulness of the earth, his bride.

For shelter and freedom, for love and beauty,
for all the harvest of earth and sun,
of talent and spirit,
For all Your blessings, we give thanks to You.