What makes us feel good?  What gives us joy?  In a world, seemingly tearing itself apart, how do we maintain humanity?  Some Dvar’s will speak to your mind and arouse your intellect.  Today, I wish to speak to our hearts and souls that inspire and inform our intellect and our actions.

Today’s Parsha speaks of Blessings and Curses, Good and Evil, and Free Will.  It tells us to sanctify G-d with a Temple at the place that He shall choose and to be weary of false prophets.  We are given signs to identify kosher animals, fish and birds.  We are told to Tithe 10 % and to provide for the Levites and the poor.  We are told to release slaves on the 7^th year and to forgive loans on the 7^th year as well.  We are told that we shall ultimately gain more than we have given through these actions.  In current parlance, we are instructed to “pay it forward”.  Lastly, we are reminded to celebrate Pesach, Shavuot and Sukkot, which are the pilgrimage holidays.

All of instructions above boil down to the fact that we have the Free Will to make both good choices or bad and we can follow G-d’s recipe for making good choices, or not!  When we make good choices and “pay it forward” we do so with joy in our hearts and we are blessed.  When we make bad choices, our hearts are empty, and we are cursed.  Happiness can be fleeting when it is not the byproduct of the joy of giving.  Joy is sustainable.  Happiness is not.

Joy comes from the heart, whereas happiness is more cerebral in nature.  The mind can fluctuate in its perceptions and moods, and it has the tendency to always ask us “What’s next?” or What have you done for me lately?”  In scientific terms, the mind is searching for the next surge of the neurotransmitter, dopamine, that stimulates the pleasure centers of the brain.  The everlasting joy that comes from the heart of a person who continually looks for opportunities to give, to “pay it forward”, creates the steady heartbeat and steady flow of blood that sustains both body and mind.  It is joyous behavior and actions that nourish the soul.  Fleeting moments of happiness that result from titillating self-indulgence simply lead the mind and ego astray.

G-d places before us the choice between blessings of sustainable joy or the curse of pursuing the fleeting moments of happiness from self-indulgence, that beg for more, more, more…  Where will it all end?

Choose wisely my friends.  Choose with your heart to “pay it forward” with sustainable joy.   In the spirit of Passover, redeem yourselves from the bondage and enslavement that characterize the endless pursuit of self-indulgent happiness.  Chag Pesach Sameach!  Shabbat Shalom!

When I think of Passover, I don’t think of it as a time for going to shul… at least not until the last couple of days when we say Yiskor. The seder is the ultimate Jewish experience because it happens in the home, lending credence to the thought that Judaism is away of life, not just a religion.

One reading at the beginning of the seder says, “All who are hungry, let them come and eat.” This serves as both an encouragement to help feed those who are hungry in our communities and an invitation to fill your seder table with guests. Friends and relatives of all backgrounds and religions are welcome at seder tables.

I’m here today, however, because I am saying Kaddish for two people who were very important to me when I was growing up—my father’s Stepmother, Gertie and my great Aunt Dora.

My father’s mother passed when he was 16. In fact, I was named after her and I have always appreciated the fact that my father (z’’l) created the name Elisa and didn’t name me ‘Ethel.’ My grandfather remarried after she passed and I always considered Gertie to be my grandmother and she treated my brother and I as her grandchildren.

My great aunt was very special to me. She was my grandfather’s older sister (in fact both of my grandparents on my mother’s side had sisters named Dora). She spoke with a strong Polish accent, had boundless energy and lived in New York. She had married several times, yet never had any children.

So what is the connection between these women and Pesach? According to Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, “It is no accident that Parshat Bo, the section that deals with the culminating plagues and the exodus, should turn three times to the subject of children and the duty of parents to educate them. As Jews we believe that to defend a country you need an army, but to defend a civilization you need education. Freedom is lost when it is taken for granted. Unless parents hand on their memories and ideals to the next generation – the story of how they won their freedom and the battles they had to fight along the way – the long journey falters and we lose our way.“

Both my aunt and grandmother encouraged us to ask questions, to explore, to wonder. They shared their stories and asked many questions of us as we were growing up.

Both had strong senses of education and they encouraged me to continue to pursue formal as well as informal education. Having such strong, encouraging women in my life impacted me in ways I didn’t always appreciate until I was older.

During the seder we talk about the four children: one wise, one wicked or rebellious, one simple and “one who does not know how to ask.” Reading them together the Sages came to the conclusion that

There are probably no Torah parashahs as widely misunderstood as Tazria and Metzorah. Although I had a lot of trouble trying to understand them, some commentators feel this part of the Torah may well be the most relevant, poignant, and emotionally powerful of the entire year. These parshiot are devoted entirely to the subject of ritual purity. They discuss what causes people to become ritually impure, how they can become ritually pure again, and what the effects of impurity are. For many modern readers, this topic is off putting. It seems primitive and far removed from the real concerns of an ethical and monotheistic religion. And yet, to the authors of the Bible, these laws were of paramount importance.

Like me, many readers think Leviticus frowns on ritual impurity, that it regards ritual impurity as objectionable or forbidden. But this is not the case. Many of the causes of ritual purity are perfectly natural – for example, menstruation or sexual emissions. Some are even praiseworthy.  Close proximity to a human corpse causes impurity, and thus burying a dead person renders one impure. But doing so is morally admirable. Leviticus doesn’t forbid family members and neighbors from preparing a loved one’s body for burial, or women from normal bodily functions. Ritual impurity is a normal state that is perfectly permissible in biblical law. Permitted ritual impurity is distinguished by the following features: First, it is contagious, transferred from one person or object to another in a variety of ways, such as physical contact or sharing space within a covered area as noted in the description of the Tzaraat, incorrectly called Leprosy.  Second, impurity contracted from a source of ritual impurity is not permanent and can be reduced and removed by some combination of purification, time, and/or the performance of specified rituals.  Third, ritual impurity can defile holy objects and places and must be kept separate from it.

Ritual impurity is distinguished from moral impurity, or impurity of the soul, which arise from heinous, prohibited acts.

While ritual impurity, itself, is not forbidden, what the Torah does forbid, however, is entering the tabernacle when one is in a state of ritual impurity. Since the Torah considered ritual impurity as contagious, in order to minimize the extent to which someone might unknowingly bring their ritual impurity in the Temple, Leviticus requires people who are ritually impure to cleanse themselves of that impurity owhen they can before entering the Tabernacle.

But one should ask: if there is nothing morally wrong with the ritually impure, and in fact there are situations in which it is morally praiseworthy to become ritually impure why is going to the Temple while impure forbidden?

As mentioned, ritual impurity may not in any way be bad; but it is essentially Un-Godly and signifies the absence of Holiness. And so, one did not walk into God’s home when one was ritually impure. Leviticus insists that rules govern when and how we may come into God’s house. But Leviticus also tells us that this gracious God remains in charge, and thus if we want to come close to God, we have to do so on God’s own mysterious terms.

So, why is something that is morally neutral and sometimes morally positive incompatible with God’s presence, that is, ritually impure?

To answer this question, we need to know something about the nature of biblical monotheism. Surprisingly, the basic idea of monotheism in the Bible is not that there is only one God. It is God’s uniqueness rather than God’s oneness that is the essential content of monotheism.  The God of Israel is qualitatively different from all other deities – and infinitely more powerful. Monotheism, then, is the belief that one supreme being exists, whose will is supreme over all other beings, whether heavenly or earthly. The Bible proclaims that the God of Israel, the creator of the world, is different from all other gods. This God was never born, never has sex, never gives birth, and never dies.

What does all this have to do with the esoteric details in our parashah. Many scholars concur that life/death symbolism is the underlying principle behind the biblical purity system. All situations that bring about ritual impurity relate to the four characteristics of God I just mentioned. Ritual impurity arises from physical substances and states associated with procreation and death, which are not themselves sinful. Childbirth causes ritual impurity.  Sexual activity causes ritual impurity. Proximity to corpse produces the highest-level ritual impurity. The skin disease, tzaraat, causes skin to become scaly white, and thus looks similar to the skin of a corpse. In the mind of the ancient authors, this disease was thought of as a kind of living death on a person’s body. So it, too, brought about ritual impurity.

These laws of tumah or spiritual impurity belong to a category of Commandments in the Torah known as chukkim. These laws are supra-rational, where there is no apparent reason.  To some degree, these serve to test our allegiance to God in observing His commandments even when not dictated by logic.

But even if the human mind can’t understand these divine decrees logically, we can nevertheless try to understand them spiritually and search for their inner meaning and significance.

It is said that first it is necessary to start observing the mitzvot and eventually we will almost certainly come to a better appreciation of their significance and truth. To approach this matter from the opposite direction; that is, to understand first and only then to do, is wrong for two reasons. First, the loss involved not performing mitzvot cannot be retrieved. Secondly, the very observance of the mitzvot, which creates an immediate bond with God, which may help us to better understand and appreciate them.  Let me give you a medical analogy to try and understand. Suppose that a previously unknown virus suddenly appeared and caused many deaths.  Your doctor told you there were new vaccines available to decrease the chance of serious illness and recommended you get vaccinated.   You don’t know anything about theses vaccines.  Would you delay taking the vaccine until you understood how it worked or would you follow your doctor’s advice and take the vaccine and learn more about it later?

For those of us who have trouble understanding Chukim commandments, let me quote the Torah which says: “(the other nations) which shall hear all those statutes (Chukim) will say, “surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people.”

In the end, parashah Metzorah and less about separation from the community, and more about reentry and reintegration. If there is a lesson for us in this parashah, it is to remind us of the need for constant vigilance and for developing an awareness of our discomfort with those who are different, and of the way we marginalize others. Only by our acts in reaching out to the disaffected and disenfranchised among us, can we ensure the survival of the Jewish community.

Shabbat Shalom
There are three themes worthy of a d’var Torah in this week’s Parshat Shmini. The first is a continuation of the laws regarding sacrifices, the second the death of two of Aaron’s sons and the third a listing of basic rules regarding Kashruth-

I chose, surprisingly, to discuss the Torah’s sacrificial cult.

Now you should be asking yourselves – Why?

Fred, this is a moot issue – we don’t have a Temple or animals without blemish etc. We haven’t offered a sacrifice for the last 1,952 years, since the year 70 C.E. , the destruction of the second temple.

And besides all this, it is an uncomfortable topic, killing of innocent lambs and goats to atone for our wrong doings or as a celebration in thanksgiving. Yuck!

There are, however, millions of our people who pray daily for the return of the sacrifices – its in the traditional siddur, the Orthodox siddur.

Let me quote just one prayer found in Musaf for Shabbat and Festivals
May it be thy will Adonai,…. that we will go up to our land in gladness….and there we will perform the sacrifices according to halacha- according to the law.

Our Conservative Rabbinic leaders recognized this dilemma –how can we pray, they asked, with Kavanah- with devotion for things we don’t believe in? For the return of animal sacrifices?
And so they edited the wording of that very same T’filah in our present siddur to: (Sim Shalom: page 435 Eng)

May it be thy will Adonai,…. that we will go up to our land in gladness….there our ancestors sacrificed to you with their daily offerings and their special offerings and there may we worship you with love and with reverence as in days of old…”
The mitzvah to sacrifice was rewritten to be in past tense.
Can we do this? Can we just rewrite the commandments because some of them make us uncomfortable?
Let me again quote from our Conservative rabbinic leaders:

As we enter the Book of Leviticus (we are about to read its third Parshah) we struggle with the role that sacrifice played in the lives of our ancestors in ancient Israel. These offerings seem not only foreign to us as modern Jews but terribly pagan as well. The first seven chapters of this book outline the complex system of sacrifices offered by the Israelite priesthood.
Are they suggesting by changing the references to sacrifices to past tense that we now and forever completely disregard the seven chapters in our Torah commanding us to bring Korbanot, to bring sacrifices?

Seven chapters, more than 100 times the space allotted in the Torah to
‘Thou shalt not kill” or to observe the Shabbat! Seven chapters of extremely detailed mitzvoth deleted, ignored, wiped out- poof they are no longer relevant?

And, please remember: the sacrificial rituals are not suggestions, they are commandments – they are mitzvoth in the Torah- very clearly outlined in our Torah. The question we face is: can we just ignore them if and when a third Temple is built?

Wait a minute! What third Temple – Yes, we, the Jewish People have been praying for a third Temple since the destruction of Temple number 2.

(Sheyebaneh Beit hamikdash Bimheirah B’yameinu… )
In Orthodox siddurim the Amidah prayer ends as follows:
“May it be Your will, Adonoy, our God, and the God of our Fathers that the Holy Temple be rebuilt speedily in our days, and grant us our share in Your Torah. And there we will serve You reverently as in the days of old, and in earlier years. And let Adonoy be pleased with the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem as in the days of old and in earlier years.”

There is in fact, today, a small group in Israel, the Temple Mount Faithful, who are actually building the ritual objects such as the Menorah and an altar to be ready the moment the third Beit Hamikdash is completed.

And don’t scoff- we prayed for a reuilt Jewish nation and it happened after 2,000 years, but it happened and despite seemingly impossible odds, who here would deny that a third Temple cannot happen. Yes- probably not in our lifetimes but- who here will underestimate the power of G-d and prayer?
So how should the Conservative movement deal with the sacrificial services when a third Beit Hamikdash, a thirdTemple is built.

The Reform movement decided early on that this is a non issue –they do not see a third Beit Hamikdash with priests and sacrifices ever in the future.
One of our leading scholars in writing about the sacrificial offerings Professor Nahum Sarna states: “God desires sacrifices not out of the need for sustenance but out of a longing for the devotion and fellowship of worshippers. It is this insight that helps us understand the connection between sacrifice and prayer. Both are forms of Avodah, service of God.

Is Professor Sarna implying that Prayer or T’filah is equal to sacrifices and can be interchanged in keeping with the spirit of the mitzvoth of korban the mitzvah of sacrifices?

Yes, he is as did the rabbis of old following the exile and the destruction of the second Beit Hamikdash.
Yes we take each mitzvah found in the Torah seriously, but we also often refresh or revise it within certain boundaries and based on modern life- incidentally this approach to the reworking mitzvoth is as old as the Torah itself.

So we need to ask ourselves: what was the purpose of the sacrifices? To answer this question we need to not use the English term for sacrifice but look at the Hebrew term, which is Korban from the Hebrew root close.

The Hebrew word karov קרוב means “near.” All the verbs that derive from the root of that word – קרב – mean “to come near, approach”.
The goal of the Korban our sacrificial cult was to bring us closer to G-d.

O.K. How does killing an inicent lamb bring us closer to G-d?

Because it wasn’t the physical act of animal sacrifice or even bringing of tne grain offerings that accomplished the goal of bringing us closer to G-d, but the intent behind the act- the motivation.
What was the motivation that brought our ancestors to the Temple to offer a Korban, a sacrifice?
It was to atone for the sins we committed accidentally, or even intentionally or perhaps in the process; for the community’s sins, for thanksgiving for a good life or following a dangerous, even life threatening situation and for sins or wrongdoings that you might not even be aware of or perhaps suspect you committed.

When we speak of Biblical sacrifices we wrongly concentrate on the physical act of the sacrifice on the what and the how and not on the why which is the reason we find ourselves at the sacrificial altar-
The why is the essence of the sacrifice not the offering itself. The why is the spirit of the Korban! The why is the fact that we own up to our shortcomings and pledge to better ourselves or we give thanks for the good life we lead and perhaps pledge to try to help others enjoy a better life.

AND THE WHY IS ACTUALLY BETTER ANSWERED, AS TAUGHT US BY PROFESSOR SARNA, THROUGH PRAYER AND NOT THROUGH ANIMAL SACRIFICES OR GRAIN OFFERINGS.

And so we can understand from his conclusion that we did NOT give up the SPIRIT behind the sacrificial cult but replaced it with a similar form of Avodah OR worship) WE REPLACED IT WITH PRAYER!

This was the conundrum facing our ancient sages following the destruction 0f the second Temple – how do we perform the SPIRIT of the Korbanote, of the sacrifices without a Temple?

And these truly holy forward looking leaders developed a brilliant replacement for the sacrifices, the concept of prayer, congregational prayer.

This new approach to worship, in the absence of a Beit hamikdash, is argueably the major factor, which enabled our people, who were by then dispersed and largely living in small communities in exile, to survive as a people to this very day.

To summarize: the consensus of those turning away from the actual sacrificial act itself is that we can accomplish the goals of the Korban through prayer alone. We can fully fulfill the spirit of the Korban of the avodah, through T’filah, through prayer.
And prayer, unlike the sacrificial aspect of the Korban, doesn’t require a specific place or time- but allows Jews everywhere, even here at Kehillat Chaverim, to atone and to commit ourselves to do better, to try harder at making ourselves a better person and to become partners in helping make this a better world- and by extension to help us accomplish Tikun Olam – T’filah with Kavanah, Prayer with intent and feeling can accomplish the goal of the ancient Korban, that is, it can lead us towards creating a more perfect world.

Shabbat ShalomOlah: Burnt Offering
Perhaps the best-known class of offerings is the burnt offering. It was the oldest and commonest sacrifice, and represented submission to G-d’s will. The Hebrew word for burnt offering is olah, from the root Ayin-Lamed-Heh, meaning ascension. It is the same root as the word aliyah, which is used to describe moving to Israel or ascending to the podium to say a blessing over the Torah. An olah is completely burnt on the outer altar; no part of it is eaten by anyone. Because the offering represents complete submission to G-d’s will, the entire offering is given to G-d (i.e., it cannot be used after it is burnt). It expresses a desire to commune with G-d, and expiates sins incidentally in the process (because how can you commune with G-d if you are tainted with sins?). An olah could be made from cattle, sheep, goats, or even birds, depending on the offerer’s means.

Zevach Sh’lamim: Peace Offering
A peace offering is an offering expressing thanks or gratitude to G-d for His bounties and mercies. The Hebrew term for this type of offering is zebach sh’lamim (or sometimes just sh’lamim), which is related to the word shalom, meaning “peace” or “whole.” A representative portion of the offering is burnt on the altar, a portion is given to the kohanim, and the rest is eaten by the offerer and his family; thus, everyone gets a part of this offering. This category of offerings includes thanksgiving-offerings (in Hebrew, Todah, which was obligatory for survivors of life-threatening crises), free will-offerings, and offerings made after fulfillment of a vow.

Chatat: Sin Offering
A sin offering is an offering to atone for and purge a sin. It is an expression of sorrow for the error and a desire to be reconciled with G-d. The Hebrew term for this type of offering is chatat, from the word chayt, meaning “missing the mark.” A chatat could only be offered for unintentional sins committed through carelessness, not for intentional, malicious sins. The size of the offering varied according to the nature of the sin and the financial means of the sinner. Some chatatot are individual and some are communal. Communal offerings represent the interdependence of the community, and the fact that we are all responsible for each others’ sins. A few special chatatot could not be eaten, but for the most part, for the average person’s personal sin, the chatat was eaten by the kohanim.

Asham: Guilt Offering
A guilt offering is an offering to atone for sins of stealing things from the altar, for when you are not sure whether you have committed a sin or what sin you have committed, or for breach of trust. The Hebrew word for a guilt offering is asham. When there was doubt as to whether a person committed a sin, the person would make an asham, rather than a chatat, because bringing a chatat would constitute admission of the sin, and the person would have to be punished for it. If a person brought an asham and later discovered that he had in fact committed the sin, he would have to bring a chatat at that time. An asham was eaten by the kohanim.

Food and Drink Offerings
A meal offering (minchah) represented the devotion of the fruits of man’s work to G-d, because it was not a natural product, but something created through man’s effort. A representative piece of the offering was burnt on the fire of the altar, but the rest was eaten by the kohanim.
There are also offerings of undiluted wine, referred to as nesekh.

Parah Adumah: The Red Heifer
The ritual of the red heifer (in Hebrew, parah adumah) is part of one of the most mysterious rituals described in the Torah. The purpose of this ritual is to purify people from the defilement caused by contact with the dead. The ritual is discussed in Numbers 19. If you find it difficult to understand, don’t feel bad; the sages themselves described it as beyond human understanding. What is so interesting about this ritual is that it purifies the impure, but it also renders the pure impure (i.e., everybody who participates in the ritual becomes impure).

It is believed by many that this ritual will be performed by the messiah when he comes, because we have all suffered the defilement of contact with the dead. Thus, the existence of a red heifer is a possible, but not definite, sign of the messiah. If the messiah were coming, there would be a red heifer, but there could be a red heifer without the messiah coming.

Parshah Tzav begins with priestly instructions for sacrifices as a sanctification and ritual to spiritually connect with G-d. Details with what to wear, time of day and who can consume the sacrifice are outlined. The parshah includes instructions for kosher eating and sanctification of priests.

As Rabbi Eve Posen points out in a 2020 message to her congregants entitled ‘It Takes All Kinds’, the entire book of Vayikra is about how our ‘spiritual’ actions connect us to G-d. Parshat Tzav encourages us to find that ‘spiritual connection’ and actually use it.

It’s important to realize that the idea of spiritual connection was reciprocal – after all G-d wanted to assure a vulnerable Israelite community of the need to connect with his spirit as well, rather than say idolatry.

It was about being ‘seen’. G-d to see and provide guidance to the Israelite people and the Israelite people to ‘see’ and follow a path that G-d provided for the Chosen People. We remember and read in today’s parshah that it was G-d who instructed the Israelites and Kohanim on the ‘best’ or ‘right’ way to perform ritual sacrifices which were carried out in a specific way by the Israelites to spiritually connect with G-d.

Obviously the Parshah points to ritual sacrifices as a connection or inflection point for a primary proscribed way to connect with G-d to perhaps reinforce fidelity to one-G-d as a means of a ‘spiritual connection’ of the day.

Connecting with G-d is a centuries old challenge different than or, perhaps for some, similar too connecting with a loved one, friend, relative or just about anyone. How do we know if we have been successful in connecting with G-d? The Torah provides examples of prophetic connection.

Some spiritual connection examples that come from Torah are not all pleasant. For example there were the punishments such as the plagues levied upon the Pharaoh and Egypt, or Israelites fleeing Egypt and crossing the Sea of Reeds and of course receiving the Torah at Mt Sinai, and as we have read, the commandments were delivered verbally, through a dark storm cloud with a booming voice that echoed commandments that are with us today.

Of course experiences of spiritual connection from Torah also point to patriarchs and matriarchs who successfully and prophetically connected to G-d and G-d with them through ‘conversation’ or ‘physicality’. Take Moses speaking to the ‘burning bush’. In one of the most blatant physical connection experiences of a patriarch, we recall Jacob. Ah yes – Jacob.

You know, Jacob (whose name means to supplant, circumvent, deceive, assail or overreach) who was born grabbing the heal of his brother Esau-now there’s a connection point!

Another connection point for Jacob was when he sought G-d’s blessing and he wrestles all night with G-d, described in Genesis as an ‘Angel’ or ‘man-like’ figure, on the shore of the Jabbok River. He also receives a broken hip (that he will keep through his life) but during his spiritual connection and physical struggle Jacob get’s his blessing from G-d. Another bonus for Jacob: he was renamed by G-d as Israel which means one who struggles with G-d. Talk about spiritual connection!

While we were not created a perfect people, Jacob is a reminder that we can always improve.

Why did we seek out connection with G-d centuries ago and still today? Were we seeking G-d’s blessing? Do some of us today still seek G-d’s blessing? Perhaps, centuries ago, it was our vulnerable position as slaves and the ‘word’ that spread about the evils of idolatry and a guy named Moses. At the time many held a myopic connection to idols and slavery – no real spirituality there to speak of.

There was however a connection through Moses to one G-D and G-d to the Israelites that provided a spiritual glimpse of hope for freedom of oppression. For us, connecting with one G-d that provided freedom in return for fidelity, belief and commitment turns out was a significant improvement over idolatry and slavery.

Why do some choose to connect with G-d today? That may depend on what ones ‘relationship’ to spirituality is all about. Today, daily prayers, Shacharit, Minhah and Maariv have replaced ritual sacrifices that provided a ritualistic spiritual connection to G-d in pre-Babylonian times.

For others, spirituality is found at Shabbat services. It can be a very peaceful and meditative experience. It is a predictable ritual that provides an opportunity to think and consider for example what we are grateful for or how to improve in coming days, weeks and months.

For others, spiritual connection can be found in day to day relationships and interactions. While spiritual connection maybe experienced simply through communicating the right words at the right time, the conversation may feel like a holy experience itself. For example, some may have a fear of connecting with say death, dying, illness or other emotional circumstances. We may discover a spiritual connection through the compassionate and empathetic words of a relative or care-giver which may appear divinely as guidance from G-d.

So how do we connect spiritually with G-d today?

Humility, gratitude, respect and a belief that we are all worthy of love and belonging are a gateway to connecting spiritually with G-d.

Every Shabbos we are fortunate to tell our story of evolution as a community of people that started on a journey with G-d centuries ago. We are reminded and learn weekly from Torah stories and Mitzvot of who we are and where we came from as a community.

Spiritual connection begins with our ‘compassionate-selves’. We need to have compassion and be kind to ourselves first in order to have ‘prayers heard’ by G-d and treat others with kindness (how can connect and be among others with compassion if we can’t treat ourselves kindly?). It is our compassion for others that can bring us closer to G-d.

Author and philosopher Sam Keen’s quote serves as a reminder of our capacity for spiritual connection with G-d and of G-d’s connection with our imperfection:
“You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.”

Good Shabbos!

I should tell you – I wasn’t thrilled as I read through today’s parashah. The thoughts of giving a D’var on it weren’t happy ones. Setting the stage for what is to come in Leviticus, we read in the entire parashah about ritual sacrifice – the types and the specifics. Ugh!

Later in the Bible, and perhaps in response to all these rituals and sacrifices, Isaiah writes in Gd’s voice, “What need have I of all your sacrifices? I have no delight in lambs . . .Trample my courts no more! Bringing offerings is futile! Who asked that of you? Your New Moons and Sabbaths among assemblies with iniquity fill me with loathing.”

Rituals cause Gd loathing . . . Well, there goes that. Eighteen chapters of blood and animal parts must not be the main feature of our worship! Many of us would agree that too easily is religion – even ours – reduced to ritual and formula.

Abraham Joshua Heschel writes, “It is a distortion to reduce Judaism to a stream of ceremonies. No religious act is properly fulfilled unless it is done with a willing heart and a craving sole.” Prayer and worship must have some structure and form, but technically precise performance must not become its totality. Isaiah would surely agree and be proud. So where does that leave me for today’s D’var?

But wait! The title of today’s parashah – Vayikra – the very first word – has proven to be the quintessential grounds for arguments in the Torah and has been the basis for D’vrei Torah for generations. (Well, now, this is more like it!) Look at that first word of the parashah, Vayikra – a calling. Or at least that’s what it means when the aleph is put at the end of the word. But as you will notice in chumash when we begin today’s reading, the aleph at the end of the word is written in a much smaller font, almost as though it is either optional, or maybe to draw attention to what the word would mean without the aleph.

Without it, the word becomes vayikar, meaning to come upon, such as an encounter that happens by chance or perhaps a conclusion that a person might reach after a cold and detached analysis of a problem. To come upon and conclude, rather than being specifically directed to by an inner voice. Vayikar vs. vayikra.

Aha! Here is my theme! I pulled out my trusty Tanakh and recalled verses from Elijah that have repeatedly inspired me. “There was a great and mighty wind, but Gd was not in the wind. After the wind, an earthquake – but Gd was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake a fire. But Gd was not in the fire. And after the fire, a still, small voice. And the voice addressed him. “Why are you here, Elijah?”

Let’s keep that question and today’s Vayikra title in mind as we turn to our upcoming holiday of Purim. In the entire narrative, who is the missing character? Yes – Gd! There is not a single mention of Gd, let alone as the One who performs miracles and who, in this case, saves the Jews. When Haman’s plot and plan to kill all the Jews becomes public, Mordechai implores the newly-crowned Queen Esther for her help. He tells her that she will not be spared should all the Jews be killed. And he tells her that even is she doesn’t help, the Jews would be saved by other means.

And then, for me, the zinger. The one verse – Ch.5, V. 14 – that is imprinted in my mind and that stays with me all the time. “Perhaps,” begins Mordechai, “Perhaps you have attained your royal position for just such a crisis.” No mention of Gd.  But maybe this . . . is to be Esther’s Vayikra moment. Hear the call, Esther. Answer as Moses answered when he heard the calling. The Vayikra. Answer as Isaiah did when he, like Elijah, heard the Still, Small Voice asking, “Who shall I send? Who will go for us? Their answer was, “Hineni! Here I am. Send me.”

Psalm 26 encourages us to, “Test me, O Lord, and try me; test my heart and my mind, for I have set my course by you.”

Some years ago, before going into an exam room to see Mr. Thomas, I glanced at my personal notes in the electronic record, and was reminded that he occasionally served as a Christian missionary. He was seated on the exam table, his wife on the chair beside the table. After I reviewed his medical history with him, I examined him, and, during the course of our subsequent discussion, I asked him if he had been on any missions of late. He responded that he hadn’t been on any recent missions – Gd hadn’t directed him to do so in some time. “Oh really?” I asked. “Maybe you just haven’t been listening.”

May we all continually listen for the Still, Small Voice, the Vayikra, telling us what must be done, and may we all have the inner strength to answer, “Hineni! Here I am.”

Shabbat Shalom

Purim Sameach

If leaders are to bring out the best in those they lead, they must give them the chance to show they are capable of great things, and then they must celebrate their achievements. That is what happens at a key moment toward the end of our parsha, one that brings the book of Exodus to a sublime conclusion after all the strife that has gone before.

The Israelites have finally completed the work of building the Tabernacle. We then read:

So all the work on the Tabernacle, the Tent of Meeting, was completed. The Israelites did everything just as the Lord commanded Moses … Moses inspected the work and saw that they had done it just as the Lord had commanded. So Moses blessed them.

Ex. 39:32, 43

The passage sounds simple enough, but to the practiced ear it recalls another biblical text, from the end of the Creation narrative in Genesis:

The heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array. On the seventh day God finished the work He had been doing; so on the seventh day He rested from all His work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it He rested from all the work of creating that He had done.

Gen. 2:1-3

Three key words appear in both passages: “work,” “completed” and “blessed.” These verbal echoes are not accidental. They are how the Torah signals intertextuality, hinting that one law or story is to be read in the context of another. In this case, the Torah is emphasizing that Exodus ends as Genesis began, with a work of creation. Note the difference as well as the similarity. Genesis began with an act of Divine creation. Exodus ends with an act of human creation.

These words were shared by Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (z’il) from a D’var a few years ago. I loved the idea of celebrating an accomplishment, bringing the community together with joy.

But what happens when we fail? For many of us, we are afraid of failure. We don’t want to let down our friends, family, colleagues, by not achieving what we have set out to do. Unfortunately, this is particularly an adult preoccupation.

When we are children, we sing with great abandon, even when we sing off-key. We draw and paint, and our parents post our creations on the family refrigerator, even if they aren’t exactly works of fine art. We dance and twirl until we are dizzy and fall down… and then we get back up and do it again.

As adults, we’d never sing off-key outside of a shower and we’d probably not turn cartwheels in the yard, just to make ourselves happy.

What is this transformation from our childish experiments where we tested the waters of our thinking? Where does that spirit of experimentation go? Why does it leave? Some would say it is because we grow up, we learn judgment, we have a stronger sense of right and wrong, good and bad.

I’d like to propose a different kind of celebration—not just for the achievement, but for the effort and what it teaches us. We’ve probably heard the aphorism: Good judgment comes from experience; experience comes from bad judgment’ and I’d like to propose something radical: a failure cake.

I’m part of a group of wonderful facilitators who work with all kinds of teams at my company. These insightful folks created the concept of the failure cake: a cake meant to celebrate not the failure itself, but what we have learned from that failure. The idea is to get a cake big enough to share with the entire team or project. Serve the cake in an informal setting where everyone can discuss what the team learned in the process.

Celebrating failure changes the way we work and gets us to better and more innovative solutions, as it encourages us to experiment. It is the path to continuous learning. Even after the cake is gone, we remember.

In today’s Torah portion, after the construction of the Mishkan (the Tabernacle) has been completed, we are told that Moses “took the Tablets and placed it in the Ark.” The Rabbis of the Talmud note that the word for Tablets, “Edut,” is in the plural.

Rabbi Dr. Bradley Shavit Artson wrote, imagine their interest (and our surprise) to read elsewhere in the Bible, after the dedication of Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem, that “there was nothing inside the Ark but the two tablets.” If the word “tablet” is already plural, then two of them must mean that Moses placed in two additional tablets beyond the two tablets containing the Ten Commandments! What else could Moses have dared to place beside the two tablets of the Commandments?

According to the Torah the answer is that “both the whole tablets and the fragments of the tablets were placed together in the Ark.” remember when Moses returned to the children of Israel, carrying the first tablets with the Ten Commandments? He was so outraged by the idolatry of the Golden Calf, that he shattered the tablets on the ground. After the people had repented of their sin, Moses returned to the peak of the Mountain, where God presented a second pair of tablets.

That is precisely our relationship to those first tablets. Moses saved them both, the shattered and the whole, to remind us that even when we make mistakes (and the Golden Calf certainly qualifies) that we can learn and move forward, perhaps humbled by our errors, but hopefully wiser.

The next time you or your team tries something that doesn’t work, celebrate the effort. Share the learning. However the failure occurred, the team should accept the failure together and everyone should share in the responsibility of growing a little bit wiser. It might be worth a cake.

Shabbat Shalom.

References:
Artson, Rabbi Dr. Bradley Shavit (not dated) If it’s broken, why keep it?
My Jewish learning https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/if-its-broken-why-keep-it/

ITK Team, Failure Cake blog posts, https://itk.mitre.org/?s=failure+cake

Sacks, Lord Rabbi Jonathan (5781), Celebrate https://www.rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation/pekudei/celebrate/

Parasha Vayakhel is almost a word-by-word repetition found earlier in the book of Shmot of how to build the Tabernacle. Rather than rehash what others have spoken about in the past several weeks, today I will focus on the first couple of verses of the parasha. G-d commands the Israelites to keep the Shabbat, keep it holy, and if you do work on the Sabbath the punishment is death. Show up next week for a more detailed discussion on the fourth commandment in Larry’s, Ten Commandments class. This verse is followed by a specific callout to not create fire on the Sabbath. This parashah includes thirty-nine elements of work required to build the Tabernacle. Rashi explains the specific prohibition against fire emphasizes that every act of work is separate and should not be lumped together as a whole.

How are we to interpret this prohibition of fire on Shabbat in modern times including cooking? If you extend the creation of fire to driving a car on Shabbat, the argument is made that a combustible engine sparks a flame on each cycle of the engine. For those aligned with and prescribe to the rulings of the Rabbinical Assembly, the Conversative rabbinic authority, it is permissible to drive to Shul on Shabbat. This ruling came about in the 1950’s when the rabbis issued the t’shuvah that sparking a car engine is different from kindling a fire for the purpose of warmth and cooking. It is not my intent to relitigate this seventy-year-old ruling, but I do believe this ruling is like other rulings throughout our history breaking with traditional halacha not only by the Conservative movement, but by the mainstream Orthodox movement.

My favorite example is the Eruv. Many of you are aware that our Kehillah is in the Far North Dallas eruv, the structure that allows one to carry in public on Shabbat. It is considered work to carry any object outside the home. Constructing a wall out of a wire around a large area symbolically sets it apart as a private domain. Pardon my cynicism, but I refer to this rabbinic ruling on the eruv and the newer ruling on driving as laws of convenience.

The concept of an eruv is simple. A private domain has historically been defined as a walled off area. It is permissible to carry within the confines of a private area such as a home or a walled off community. The rules of the eruv were established during the Mishna Period in Roman Palestine. As the Jewish community grew outside the established walls, it became necessary for those outside the primary communal area to partake in Shabbat related activities with others residing within the walled-off area. As the Jewish community grew and Jews moved to new areas in Babylonia and Eastern European countries, the rabbinic authorities expanded the definition of the eruv. The creation of these halakhic neighborhoods was established to allow people living within the larger community to share food with one another on Shabbat. The concept of “Oneg Shabbat” or to enjoy Shabbat was the basis for these new rules.

Throughout history the rabbis have had to make adaptations or form new rules of halakha to account for changes in the community or to society as a whole. So why is it not permissible to turn on the oven to cook food on Shabbat rather than eat a cold or warm Shabbat meal? Certainly, allowing one to cook and enjoy hot food on Shabbat would make the day much more enjoyable. The ruling is not a work-around to the use of fire on Shabbat, but starting a car engine does not complete the creation of a material item such as cooked food. These acts of completion all relate back to the construction of the Tabernacle. There are thirty-nine acts of malachot, or work, needed to complete the construction of the Tabernacle which define work which is not permitted on Shabbat.

We are commanded to enjoy Shabbat. We set aside Shabbat as a set time to behave differently than the other six days of the week. Shabbat is a time for rest, relaxation, and enjoyment – a time to separate ourselves from our day-to-day tasks. Each of us have our individual level of observance. I believe the rabbinic authorities throughout our history have always considered the community as a priority. The Talmudic rabbis justified this eruv loophole because it allows Jews to come together as a community. The Conservative rabbis allowed the use of a car on Shabbat to allow those who live too far to walk to shul to participate in the Shul community in.

G-d commanded the Israelites to build the Tabernacle, a portable sanctuary and provided extensive details on the materials and methods of construction. Since G-d is everywhere, was it necessary to have a physical location to worship G-d from? Was it necessary to later construct the temple as a permanent structure? Is it necessary to have shuls and other places of worship today? Yes, it was and is still necessary to have these physical structures as a place set aside to connect to G-d. Throughout our history, it has been important to establish a physical location where we can come together as a community. The rules on an eruv and the rules of driving a car on Shabbat are necessary because experiencing the enjoyment of Shabbat requires that we physically be together as a community.

Shabbat Shalom

In Parshat Ki Tisa the Jewish nation is again faced with a test of faith. Moses leaves to receive the Ten Commandments. Rather than prepare themselves spiritually to await this sacred moment, some instead use their time to engage in another activity: the construction of a golden calf. Things get worse when it appears that Moses has not returned within the expected forty-day period. Some of the people become rebellious and immoral. In reality, some had miscounted the days by one with Moses returning on time carrying two tablets upon which were inscribed the Ten Commandments. A furious Moses flung the tablets to the ground, destroying them. G-d’s anger was kindled. The golden calf along with the rebellious throng were swallowed up by the earth. Only through the interceding of Moses was the remainder of the Jewish people spared. Moses then ascended the mountain again where a second set of tablets were inscribed.

The parsha goes on to describe the half shekel participation by all in the building of the Mishkan. By each person giving the same amount, everyone could feel equally invested in the undertaking. Regarding collection of items, jewels, gold, silver, etc. for forming of the accessories within the Mishkan, people were allowed to give as they saw fit. The response was overwhelming with more being donated than was needed.

What could account for the diametrically opposed responses of the Jewish people in regard to Moses ascent to receive the Ten Commandments and the building and stocking of the Mishkan? Perhaps the Jewish people by nature are schizophrenic. This might account for the irregular behavior of the Jewish people that often is witnessed during the journey through the wilderness. But this wouldn’t explain the extreme generosity displayed in regard to the Mishkan.

The Jewish people, after all, are human. And don’t we all have two sides to us: good and evil? These two sides are referred to as the Yetzer Tov and the Yetzer Rah: the good inclination and the bad inclination. Sometimes one Yetzer takes control over the other one. The golden calf was tempting to some who had witnessed idolatry in Egypt and who had sunk to the 49th level of immorality out of 50 (50 being lowest) in Egypt. Some commentaries argue that it is because the Jews of Egypt had sunk to such a low spiritual level, that G-d chose then to deliver them from bondage before they sunk to the unsavable 50th level.

Fortunately, the Yetzer Tov prevailed with respect to the Mishkan. The battle between Yetzer Tov and Yetzer Rah, i.e., The human dichotomy, would resurface over and over again throughout the journey of the Jewish people as they sought the promised land and their recognition as the B’nai Yisroel. And the human dichotomy continues to this day.

What can we take away from this Parsha? Recognize the internal battle between good and evil that we all must face. When we are tempted to door not to do something, there is a good chance that the Yetzer Rah is trying to prevail. Should I give to charity? Yetzer Rah. To which charity should I give? Yetzer Tov. How much should I give? Let your Yetzer Tov prevail. Hey, we’re all human. Sometimes the Yetzer Rah is going to take charge when that piece of cake looks too good to resist. But when it comes to the more significant things in life, fight the good fight, put on your combat boots, and kick that Yetzer Rah to the curb.

Good Shabbos

In parshah Tetzaveh, God commands Moses:” Have Aaron and his sons serve me as priests. Make for them sacred garments using fine linen, gold, blue, purple and scarlet yarns. Make for them a breastplate, an ephod, a robe, a fringed tunic, a headdress, and a sash. These garments must be worn when officiating in my sanctuary.” The next 40 verses devoted to the elaborate description of these “sacred vestments” which the priests and the high priest would wear “for glory and splendor.” This seems to run counter to some fundamental values in Judaism. The vestments were made to be seen. They were intended to impress the eye. But why? The answer is that they represent an aesthetic dimension. Maimonides says that to those who really understand the nature of the religious life, appearances should not matter at all, but the multitude, the masses, the majority are not like that. They are impressed by spectacle, visible grandeur, the glitter of gold, the jewels of the breastplate, the rich pageantry of the scarlet and purple and the pristine purity of white linen robes. But this does not always figure prominently in Judaism. Judaism often seems almost puritanical in its avoidance of grandeur and display as opposed to the great empires Greece and Rome. The great difference between ancient Israel and ancient Greece is that the Greeks believed in the holiness of beauty whereas Judaism believes in the beauty of holiness. Judaism is a religion of the ear more than the eye. It emphasizes hearing rather than seeing. Jewish spirituality is about listening more than looking.

Clearly, the Mishkan and the priests’ sacred vestments were exceptions to this. This is very unexpected. Rabbi Sacks point out that the Hebrew word for “garment”, bigdei, also means to betray. He points out that throughout Genesis, whenever a garment is a key element of the story, it involves some deception or betrayal. There were the coverings of fig leaves Adam and Eve made for themselves after eating the forbidden fruit. Jacob wore Esau’s clothes when he took his blessing by deceit. Joseph’s brothers used his bloodstained cloak to deceive their father into thinking he had been killed by a wild animal. Joseph took advantage of his viceroy’s clothing to conceal his identity from his brothers when they came to Egypt. There are other examples as well. So, it is very unusual that the Torah should concern itself in a positive way with garments and vestments. Clothes have to do with surface, not depth; with the outward, not the inward; with the appearance rather than reality. All the more strange, therefore, that they should form a key element of the service of the priests, given the fact that” people look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

The purpose of the emphasis on the visual elements of the Mishkan and the grand vestments of those who ministered there, was to create an atmosphere of reverence because they pointed to a beauty and splendor beyond themselves, namely God, Himself. The vestments were a constant reminder to them of their sacred duties and responsibilities.

Following the detailed description of the priests’ clothes, the next section of the parshah deals with sacrifices. One might ask why the sections on sacrifices and the priestly vestments are written next to each other. The answer that is suggested is to teach us that just as sacrifices make atonement, so do the priestly vestments make atonement. The tunic atoned for bloodshed, the breeches atoned for lewdness, the turban made atonement for arrogance, the sash atoned for impure meditations of the heart, the breastplate atoned for neglect of civil laws, the Ephod atoned for idolatry, the cloak atoned for slander, the crown atoned for brazenness.

“Clothes make the man,” the old saying goes. Well, clothes certainly seem to impress us human beings. Nothing tells you more about a person or makes a greater first impression than how one is dressed. It is quite remarkable, really. A person’s entire character can be summed up by someone who does not know them simply by how they are dressed. Jobs have been won and lost and relationships continued or ended, all based on the clothes we wear.

But do clothes really make the man or woman? Clothes are an important part of our culture. Clothing reflects how we value ourselves and our bodies. Whether it is the carefully ripped jeans of a teenager or a three-piece suit the lawyer, the way an individual dresses projects an image or makes a statement about that person.

Who doesn’t remember as a young child being made to wear certain clothing we didn’t like? Then, as we got older, fighting at times with our parents over the clothes we loved? As soon as our parents stopped telling us what we could and couldn’t wear, society began doing its job. There was the pressure to” dress for success”, although we were not always sure for whose idea of success we were even dressing.
The clothes people wear today reflect the functions they serve in our communities. For instance, we recognize a police officer instantly by his or her blue uniform, which has come to symbolize law and order, and we associate a white lab coat with the medical profession.

When we perform a special duty or have a particular job, we often dress in a way that reflects this. For example, people wear business attire for job interviews because it is important to show a prospective boss that they know how to dress appropriately for the office. A politician is always impeccably dressed when making a public appearance. Ultimately, however, what is more important than the garment is the person wearing it. Thus, while clothes help a person project a proper image, it is his or her actions that determine whether or not he or she has fulfilled a role appropriately. For example, a person who dresses nicely for a job interview but cannot fulfill the demands of the job will not make a satisfactory employee, and a well-dressed politician with crooked dealings does not fulfill the ideals of public office.

Dressing to impress can influence how others see us, but what’s perhaps less obvious is how it can affect our own sense of self. Some psychologists think that physical objects, like clothes, can be used to change our internal mindset, allowing us to transition more easily into roles that are unfamiliar by first dressing the part.

When people look good, they feel good. A certain uniform or costume identifies a person’s role. But who a person is underneath the clothing is even more important than how he or she looks.
In summary, it would seem that dressing for success has potential benefits beyond how others see you. It may also help you see yourself in that new role you are working toward, and subconsciously help you to act, and not just look, the part. Be careful, though, since wearing the uniform cannot compensate for lack of ability. Be honest with yourself if you are compensating and think about upgrading your skill set before you upgrade your wardrobe.