"If your brother falls low, and his hand falters beside you, then you shall strengthen him--sojourner or resident--and he will live with you." (Leviticus 25:35) This past Wednesday, I attended the fourth annual Interfaith Coalition to Reduce Poverty Conference. Each year at this conference, we receive the most up-to-date statistics available on Rhode Island's poor: adults and children. We also are given the opportunity to learn from experts in the field of fighting poverty in order to make more effective our own state-wide efforts. This year's topice was: Why Are People Poor? The Systemic Nature of Poverty in Rhode Island. A panel of three leaders in the fight against poverty on the national level spoke: Reverend Peg Chemberlin, Immediate Past President of the National Council of Churches, Rabbi Steve Gutow, President and CEO of The Jewish Council for Public Affairs and Imam Mohamed Magid, President of the Islamic Society of North America. Reverend Chemberlin's presentation included encouragement to act despite the prevalence and the momentum poverty has gained: "Pick something and do it. Don't be overwhelmed. Have a work plan." I learned Torah from Imam Magid: He taught a midrash from the Muslim tradition in which a poor man comes to Abraham. Abraham asks the man, "Do you believe in God?" And the man responds, "no." "In that case," answers Abraham, "I cannot feed you." The man turns away and God says to Abraham: "I've fed that man for forty years even though he does not believe in Me. I send him to you for one meal and you turn him away?" Abraham ran after the man, apologized and invited him to a meal. The poor man turns to Abraham: "You say God sent you to run after me to apologize to me and to feed me? That is a good God. I will believe in such a God." Imam Magid challenges us: "If you want to say you believe in God, show me what you have done to take care of God's creation!" Rabbi Gutow shared with us the shocking trend that poverty is decreasing in the developing world and increasing in the developed world. In other words, it is in the societies with the greatest resources that the numbers of those living in poverty is increasing. Rabbi Gutow concluded: "The world will be a better place if we do this work. The world will be a worse place if we don't do this work." I am sickened by the realities of poverty right under our noses here in Rhode Island: In 2010, there were 142,000 Rhode Islanders (14% of the population) living in poverty. The poverty level is defined as around $11,000 of income per year for a single individual and approximately $18,000 dollars of income per year for a single parent and two children. Of those living in poverty, 43% were living in extreme poverty . . . which means people living on an income less than half of the poverty level figures above. In 2010, there were 42,221 children in Rhode Island (19% of our State's children) living in poverty. This week's Torah reading, all the force of our tradition, God's expectations of us, all compel us to do more than read about the poor. We cannot click our tongues and make compassionate noises. We must all act. I invite you to contact me if you are ready to move beyond heartfelt compassion to action. In the meantime, here are two opportunities for involvement: Join the Interfaith Advocacy Project and become a Legislative Ambassador. You will be trained to be an effective advocate, you will learn about Rhode Island's legislative and budget processes and about poverty-related issues being considered in the current legislative session. Contact Reverend Donald Anderson, Executive Minister of the Rhode Island State Council of Churches if you have the time and the communication skills to take on this kind of role. Sign a petition. The federal government is seriously considering cutting funding for SNAP, the newest food stamp program for families. This is happening at a time when more and more vulnerable citizens are losing their food security (literally not knowing where there next meal is coming from). A third grader recently told her teacher that she did not have breakfast one schoolday morning because "it wasn't my turn." Please follow this link and add your name to mine: www.bread.org/snapworks.
This final parashah/Torah reading in the book of Genesis includes an evocative scene: the patriarch is close to death, his twelve sons are gathered around him as he speaks his final words to each and every one of them. The Torah tells us that the patriarch, Jacob, blessed each son according to his blessing.
Try as I might, I find little that's heartwarming or inspiring in this scene: Jacob's daughter, Dina, is nowhere to be found and does not receive a parting blessing from her father . . . which might be a blessing in itself.
For what Jacob does say to each son, in the presence of all the others, isn't what I'd call a blessing . . . indeed, many of the sons seem to be condemned by their father more than blessed.* "Reuben, you're my firstborn, my power, and the beginning of my might, . . . unstable as water, you'll not be preeminent, for you ascended your father's bed . . . (49:3,4). "Simeon and Levi are brothers: implements of violence are their tools of trade. Let my soul not come in their council..." (49:5-6) "Dan will be a snake on a road, a venomous snake on a path, that bites a horse's heels,and its rider falls backward." (49: 17) "Benjamin is a tearing wolf: in the morning eating prey, and at evening dividing booty." (49:27)
Of course, other brothers fare slightly better: "Zebulun will dwell by seashores: and he'll be a shore for boats..." (49:13 "Issachar is a strong ass crouching between the saddle-packs: and he saw rest, that it was good, and the land, that it was pleasant. and he leaned his shoulder to bear and became a work-company servant." (49:14-15) "Naphtali: a hind let loose, who gives lovely words." (49:21)
And a few are truly blessed: "Judah: You, your brothers will praise you. Your hand on your enemies' neck, your father's sons will bow to you." (49:8) "A fruitful bough is Joseph, a fruitful bough over a spring . . . archers bitterly attacked him, shot at him, and despised him. and his bow stayed stong, and his forearms were nimble, from the hands of the Might One of Jacob . . .Shadday [another name for God] will bless you . . . blessings of your father, the mighty and most high, blessings of the mountains of old..." (49: 22,23-24, 25-26).
So it's no small surprise when we read: "And Jacob finished commanding his sons, and he gathered his feet into the bed, and he expired. And Joseph fell upon his father's face and wept over him and kissed him." (49:33-50:1)
Only Joseph. Thirteen children, twelve gathered at the death bed, and only one mourned him.
It is certainly the case that some of Jacob's sons were responsible for some very questionable acts. And I believe that parents are most effective when they are not blind to their progeny's shortcomings. But a dying father might say to his fanatically revengeful sons (see Genesis 34): "My prayer for you is that you will be broken down with remorse and then rebuild your souls as upright men of honor, maturity and perspective." A dying father might say to the son who slept with his father's concubine, Bilhah (see Genesis 35:22): "My prayer for you is that you will be broken down with remorse and then rebuild your soul as a man who has control of his urges and has respect for women and for family relationships."
There is a lot that is broken and dysfunctional in this biblical family. Jacob's parting words to his sons almost seem designed to plant chaos and dissension among them.
Then two profound things happen. Two profound things that demonstrate to me how much Torah is truly a light for us in every generation:
Joseph, the one child who truly mourns his father, receives permission from Pharaoh to journey to Canaan to bury his father in the family burial plot in the cave of Mahpelah. And the Torah relates: "And Joseph went up to bury his father, and all of Pharoah's servants, the elders of his house, and all the elders of the land of Egypt, and all of Joseph's house and his brothers and his father's house. Only their infants and their flock and their oxen they left in the land of Goshen." (Gen 50: 7-8)
In other words: as abusive as their father may have been, Jacob's sons stepped up and did him the honor due to him as the source of their lives. Jewish tradition teaches us that as adults, when we are no longer physically dependent on an abusive parent, we are not obligated to fawn over them, to keep trying to earn their love. But the adult children of abusive parents are obligated to make sure that their parents are safe, have respectable food, clothing and shelter and that their are honored in their death as the source of life and for whatever gifts of parenting they may have had. This is what we learn from Reuben and Simeon and Levi, Judah, Zebulun and Issachar, Dan, Gad and Asher, Naphtali and Benjamin.
The second moment of light comes as the family gathers together after Jacob is buried. Joseph's brothers speak among themselves: "And Joseph's brothers saw that their father was dead, and they said, "If Joseph will despise us he'll pay us back all the bad we dealt to him." (50:15).
But Joseph has grown, not only in stature, but in faith and maturity. Perhaps being cut off from his family for so long has taught him the importance of family. He responds: "Don't be afraid, because am I in God's place? And you thought bad against me. God thought for good: in order to do as it is today, to keep alive a numerous people. And now, don't be afraid. I'll provide for you and your infants. " And he consoled them. And he spoke on their heart. (Gen 50: 19-21)
The long journey of this family of Jacob's begins with the pain of the effects of an abusive parent and ends with the healing power of a faithful and loving sibling. Amen.
*All translations are from Richard Elliott Friedman's excellent English translation of the Torah.
Parashat Vayigash Torah Reading: Genesis 44:18-47:27
Do you ever talk to the tv? You know the protagonist shouldn't go into the cave or whatever, and you're sitting there calling, "no! don't go there!"
And you're right, of course, because you've seen it before . . . the bad guy is lurking in the shadows or the rock slide seals your hero into an apparently impossible situation.
And that's how I feel reading Parashat Vayigash, this week's Torah reading. Joseph is at the height of his powers and reputation. All of his brothers and his father Jacob are graciously settled onto prime real estate by Pharaoh as a tribute to Joseph's vision and plan saving Egypt from famine. And as the family of Jacob settles into Goshen, I'm moved to call out "no! don't go there! Your great grandchildren are going to be doomed to slavery!"
Because, of course, I've read this story before. Every year. I read it in Religious School when I was a kid. I studied it, with all the commentaries, in rabbinical school. I review it every year when we come to this Shabbat, as well.
How many times can a person go back to the same story? If the story is in the Torah, there's no limit.
What is it about the Torah that keeps us coming back? Yes, it is engaging literature. Our spiritual connection to the text is the divine revelation integrally woven into every word.
But I think the real draw for us as Jews is the fact that it is our story. Revisiting the text of the Torah year after year is like sitting around the table with family and hearing your parents and grandparents tell and re-tell the family stories. I admit that when my Aunt Gladys gets started on those stories, I have a tendency to roll my eyes. But you know what? I love those stories and I love the way Gladys tells them. And every time I listen to them, I hear a little something that I didn't hear before. And every time I listen to them I feel embraced by the narratives . . . I see myself and where I've come from. It's a powerful and precious experience.
When we read and re-read the Torah, we are reading the story of our past, the story of our roots, the story of what ties us together as a community and a people. So, even though we know how the story ends, we never get tired of returning to the story. There is actually comfort and confirmation in knowing what happens next in the story . . . because this is the story whose narrative continues through the generations right up to us at this time and this place.
Parashat Vayakhel-Pekudei Torah Reading: Exodus 35:1-40:38
Educators, child psychologists, even rabbis are expressing concern over the phenomenon of over-programmed kids. From school to hockey to band to gymnastics to soccer to karate . . . it seems as though many kids today have no time to just do nothing. My friend and colleague, Rabbi Dianne Cohler-Esses shows us how this week's Torah reading provides us with a valuable guiding principle as we prioritize time for our children:
"In this Torah portion Moses tells the people that they are commanded to set aside the seventh day as a day of complete rest. It is a day in which no productive labor is allowed, a day in which the emphasis is put on "being" instead of "becoming" or "having."
Think about your own life. Is there enough time and room for simply stopping and being with one another? Stop now and take a breath. See how that feels. Think about ways to incorporate rest into the busy life of your family. Some families choose to put aside a day of the week and celebrate the Sabbath as a day of rest. Others pay attention to the principle of the day and figure out where to find the resting moments in life." Rabbi Dianne Cohler-Esses, www.myjewishlearning.com
This week's Torah reading invites us to integrate Shabbat into our lives. Here are some accessible ways to weave the values of Shabbat into our week:
1. Make Friday evening family dinner night. Go around the table and have each family member talk about something good, exciting or challenging that happened during the week.
2. Make or purchase a tzedakah box (a Jewish piggy bank!) and on Friday afternoon have everyone in the family put a few coins in the box. Twice a year, count up what you've contributed and decide on a cause to send your donation.
3. Trying to control your family's intake of sweets or salty snacks? Ban them during the week and rename them "Shabbat Treats." Everyone in the family gets to pick one Shabbat Treat (candy, chips, whatever...) that they will enjoy during Shabbat.
4. Bless your children. Whatever parenting challenges you may have faced during the week, take a few moments at Friday evening dinner to treasure those little blessings in your life. Put your hand on each child's head and recite the blessing that has been part of our people's heritage since biblical times:
May God bless you and guard you. May God's light shine upon you and be gracious to you. May God show you kindness and shower you with peace.
Then . . . and this is really important . . . then kiss each kid on the head!
Parashat Vayigash Torah Reading: Genesis 44:18-47:27
The biblical book of Breishit/Genesis is full of dysfunctional families. Mothers and children are banished to the wilderness, sons are bound on altars and then never speak to their fathers again, brothers begin their rivalry in utero, mothers and sons conspire to deceive fathers. It's official: Breishit is a soap opera that's running longer than "The Days of Our Lives!"
As is often the case in the real world, in fiction and in divine revelation, this family does not contain one villain and one innocent. Rather, the dysfunctionality of the family comes from the fateful chemistry between several flawed individuals. Part of the saga of the Breishit families are moments of transcendence in which they mature, achieve resolution and show us how we might heal the great and small ruptures in our own lives.
This week's Torah reading / parashah contains just such a moment, when Joseph finally reveals his identity to his brother, after manipulating them with a terrifyiing game of cat and mouse. This is a moment that has been building up from the time of the brothers' childhoods when the older brothers resented their younger brother for the special treatment he received at the hands of their Jacob (the coat of many colors), and for Joseph's seemingly narcissistic dreams.
Joseph suffers an indescribable trauma when his brothers, the family which is supposed to make us feel safe, throw him into a pit and leave him for dead. Now they stand before him, supplicants asking for food. He is the second most powerful man in Egypt and his brothers have no idea that the man who holds the key to their survival is that same obnoxious little brother they abandoned decades ago.
One of the fascinating, and deeply true, aspects of this story is that after all those years, after garnering all that power, Joseph still felt so vulnerable at the sight of his brothers that he had to hide his identity from them, threaten them with his power, surround himself with the accouterments of his office. It couldn't matter less what our external attainments are. The dynamics of our family histories affect us in the core of our being, in a place that outward attainments cannot touch. It is only be repairing the rifts between us, by reaching out to each other, that we can heal.
Let's remember that this story is not a modern self-help book, it's a profound gift of the divine revelation of our Torah. the fact of the presence of these passages in the Torah is an indication that God understands how families heal. The fact of the presence of these passages in the Torah is an indication of God's love for us and an indication of how God can inspire us in our daily lives.
Parashat Toldot Torah Reading: Genesis 25:19-28:9
The more I study Torah the more the divine source of the text proclaims itself. There is one moment in this week's Torah reading in which the Torah's insight into the human soul offers us a key to one of life's most difficult challenges . . . moving past the hurt someone has done to us.
Towards the end of the parashah, we witness a key moment towards the end of Isaac's life: the moment when he blesses his progeny and, in a sense, appoints the son who will carry the responsibility for sustaining the covenant with God. Through a ruse (justifiable or not, pre-ordained or not), the younger twin, Jacob, secures the blessing that by birth order should have come to his brother Esau. When Esau comes to his father's bedside to receive his blessing, he learns that his brother Jacob has maneuvered him out of his rightful blessing and Esau begs his father for a blessing for himself.
The words of Isaac's blessing are a bit cryptic. He begins by declaring that Esau will prosper, that he will live by his sword and that he will serve his brother until he . . . and then there's a word that is open to interpretation . . . at which point he will throw off the yoke of his brother.
One interpretation of this word is "restive" . . . when you grow restive you will throw off the yoke of your brother. Someone else interprets it as "humble". Yet another interpretation seems to be "troubled."
What impresses me about Isaac's blessing to Esau is that the yoke of Jacob, the resentment and hurt that will chain Esau to his brother in a relationship of "servitude" will be broken when something in Esau changes. When you hit bottom and are tired of carrying this weight around in your heart, Isaac seems to be saying, you'll finally be free of the yoke of your resentment.
Because our narrative follows Jacob rather than Esau, we do not meet up with Esau again until many years later (in another week's Torah reading!) when Jacob is on his way home and is anxiously protecting his family and possessions in anticipation of a reunion with an angry Esau. But when the brothers do come face to face again, we see that Esau steps forward to embrace his brother Jacob . . . Esau has achieved his father's blessing after all, has moved past the hurt Jacob saddled him with and embraces him free of the yoke of resentment.
Parashat Ki Teitzei Torah Reading: D'varim/ Deuteronomy 21:10 - 25:19
Week after week, month after month, year after year, we return to the text of the Torah . . . the gift from God that our liturgy tells us is an expression of God's love for us. Among the many blessings this gift brings us is a treasure trove of values, helping us to prioritize our lives.
Just such a value is accessible to us in this week's parashah / Torah Portion. The people of Israel are, in the book of D'varim/Deuteronomy, being prepared for their entry into the land of Israel. In this context, the people are presented with a list of contingencies which provide military exemptions for those of age and ability to serve. The young man who is married for less than a year and/or has yet to build a home for his family is exempt from military service.
The message for us, living in a country where there is no compulsory military service? That family is important. Really important. Establishing and providing for your family in fact trumps other obligations.
Author Jessica Gribetz, in her rich sourcebook: Wise Words: Jewish Thoughts and Stories Through the Ages, outlines for us the essence of family for our people:
The family forms and defines us. Within its borders, our principles, ethics, self-worth and aspirations blossom or wither. Parents seek to replicate or refashion their own upbringing, hoping only for the best. But the best differs for each of us. I have only to look at my four girls, each with her own singular beauty, talents, and traits, to know that there is no one way to love and nurture. Our home is a hothouse and each flower has its needs. . . . Our biblical forefathers are presented to us, warts and all--because the message is not to deny human nature but to overcome its darker side.
Yes, one can make a case for the dysfunctionality of the families of Genesis an Exodus: parents showing favoritism for children (Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob) or being ready to sacrifice a child as an act of allegiance to an unseen God (Abraham), or simply a remote and uninvolved parent (Moses). Perhaps these glimpses into the imperfect family lives of our matriarchs and patriarchs have been preserved in order to provide us with role models who are as real and human as we are. In order to encourage us to overcome the darker side of our characters and to strive to provide for our families an environment in which each member of the family can thrive.
This imagery of family . . . of the context in which each individual can grow and follow his or her own path, in which love and nurturing are available in many different ways, is also my vision of community. This is my vision for our Torat Yisrael family.
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