Temple Torat Yisrael

"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 week's parashah/Torah reading concludes with a review of the liturgical calendar as determined by God and conveyed to the Israelites through Moses.  Shabbat and the three pilgrimage festivals of Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot are described.  God declares:  אלה הם מועדי / eileh heim mo'aday / there are My festivals.

Today, we mark the beginning of each of God's festivals with a blessing over wine.  This blessing is called "kiddush" / קידוש which is based on the Hebrew root קדש which is the basis of every form of the word holy.  As we raise the kiddush cup and recite the kiddush blessing for the festival, what are we saying? 

In the course of this blessing, we praise God for sanctifying us through God's mitzvot (v'kidshanu b'mitzvotav / וקדשנו במצותיו).  Holiness is added to our lives as we fulfill the mitzvot, the commandments that are part of our brit, our covenant with God.  Holiness is great . . . but it's a little obscure.  What does it mean to be holy, to seek to integrate holiness into our lives?  A great subject for a future blog!

What are these festivals of God for?  Why has God invited us to God's festivals?  Our kiddush blessing goes on:  Lovingly have You given us the gift of Festivals for joy and holy days for happiness... Here, embodied in the most ancient, enduring holidays of our tradition we are, in essence, invited to party with God!  There are My festivals, says God . . . and I want you to come!  We stand with wine in our hands and acknowledge that these holy days are given to us as days of joy and happiness to share with God.  

Remembering the exodus from Egypt at Passover, reliving the revelation of the Torah at Sinai on Shavuot, revisiting the experience of wandering through the wilderness at Sukkot . . . the kiddush blessing shared by all these festivals reminds us that, as theologically significant as these moments are, these moments are meant to be joyous.  Like anniversaries and birthdays, the festivals give us the opportunity to gather together in community and relive great moments with God:  "remember when?"  Remember how relieved and grateful we were when You released us from slavery behind?  Remember how awed we were to stand together and commit to Your Torah at Sinai?   Remember how You got us through forty years of wandering even when we complained?  Those were the days!  Those days are our heritage!  

It's not a festival, a party, a celebration of great moments for God if we're not there to celebrate, too.  Even God can't party alone.  Our recitation of the festival kiddush is our acceptance of the invitation to rejoice with God.  Amen!

Our next opportunity for celebrate a festival with God is Shavuot, beginning at sundown on Saturday, May 26th.  If you'd like to practice singing the festival kiddush with it's special melody, click here for a special online lesson on our TY website!

In this week's double parasha/Torah reading, we begin with the aftermath of a tragedy . . ."aharei-mot"; after the death of Aaron's sons . . . 
The tragedy is recounted, not in the immediately preceding parasha, Metzora, nor in the parasha before that, Tazria, but in the third parsha preceding this week's reading, Shemini.  It is there that we read a perplexing event: Aaron sacrificed the animals, then lifted his hands toward the people and blessed them. Then Aaron and Moses went inside the Tent of Appointed Meeting. When they came out again, they blessed the people, and the glory of God revealed itself to all the people. Fire went forth from before God and consumed the burnt offering and the fat parts on the altar. And all the people saw, and shouted for joy, and fell on their faces.Now Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu each took his fire pan, put fire into it and placed incense upon it. Then they brought before God strange fire that God had not enjoined upon them. Then fire went forth from before God and consumed them and they died before God.

Moses said to Aaron, “This is what God said, 'I will be sanctified through those who are nearest Me, thus I will be honored before the entire peoples.'” Aaron was silent.

How can we possibly understand and integrate into our understanding of Judaism a God that kills two young men who display spontaneous love and devotion to God?

It is in this moment that we confront an essential difference between the Israelite religion described in the Torah and the rabbinic Judaism our people have practiced for 2000 years:  The Israelite religion of the Torah was cult of sacrifice led by an oligarchy, a dynasty of priests.  From Aaron to his sons, to their sons . . . . until the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem in the year 70, Israelite service to God was channeled through a series of sacrifices of various categories mediated by and facilitated by the kohanim, the dynastic priesthood.  For all the information provided in the book of Vayikra/Leviticus about the conduct of the sacrificial system, there was esoteric knowledge that was shared only with successive generations of kohanim.  This was a hierarchical system structured in a society that shared certain assumptions about the service of God and the relationship between the people, the priesthood and God.

Nadab and Abihu broke those esoteric rules and it may well be that the story of their death was meant to be a cautionary tale to subsequent generations of kohanim who might seek to create their own traditions beyond the bounds of priestly disciplines.

The rabbinic Judaism we practice today is the result of a revolution:  the Judaism that has evolved and grown and reflected the real-life commitments and passions of Jews around the world for 2000 years was born of discussions by scholars in houses of study 2000 years ago.  Around those tables were Jews of all backgrounds, rich and poor; Jews of all categories, kohanim, levi'im and plain Israelites; tradesmen and merchants and men (yes, men) of independent means.  The only path to advancement was your learning, not who your father was, not how much money you had.  The learning was guided by a number of principles:  all opinons brought in humility and faith are equally important and worth preserving; we respect and name those who have contributed insight and learning to our tradition; learning is accessible to all who seek it.

In the world of rabbinic Judaism there is no punishment for spontaneity in devotion, there is no rejection of creativity and honest exploration of our tradition.  It is the rise of rabbinic Judaism, born in the discussions of the Mishna, Tosefta, Midrash and Talmud that is responsible for the fact that Judaism is alive, well, thriving and evolving to this day.  We look back at the tragedy of Nadab and Abihu with compassion and self-differentiation . . . their actions today would have brought them closer to a God who has grown with us instead of condemning them to death.

This week's parashah/Torah portion establishes one of the cornerstones of Jewish tradition:  there are two categories of animals, those that may be consumed and those that shall not be consumed by those who consider themselves to be part of the brit/covenant between God and Israel.
     Not that long ago, "keeping kosher" was normative practice among Jews in the United States.  Jews who today do not maintain kosher kitchens in their homes most probably recall the kosher homes of their parents or grandparents.  Living in a state in which there are no kosher butchers (although Trader Joe's always carries fresh kosher meat and poultry!) and one kosher coffeeshop/bakery (Wildflour Bakery in Pawtucket, yum!), it is clear that a minority of Rhode Island Jews follow kosher guidelines when making decisions about food.
     Last night I had occasion to write in an e-mail to a Torat Yisrael member that it is often the case in the Torah that a mitzvah / commandment is given and no reason is provided.  Thus, Passover, according to the Torah, lasts seven days.  and although we might come up with engaging and inspirational reasons for this number, the bottom line remains that Pesah lasts seven days for the simple reason that God said so.
     Keeping kosher is largely about religious discipline.  It is a statement: all the food God created is healthy, delicious, nourishing . . . but as an expression of the centrality of my Jewishness in my life, I am going to avoid eating pigs and lobsters and veal parmesan.  Here is a place where we might very well expect "God said so" to be the only available reason in the Torah. 
     But Parashat Shemini not only provides criteria for kosher creatures (mammals with cloven hooves that chew their cuds, water creatures with both fins and scales) but we get a reason, too.  Toward the end of the parasha we read:
(vayikra/leviticus 11:44-45) For I am the Lord your God, and you shall sanctify yourselves and be holy, because I am holy, and you shall not defile yourselves through any creeping creature that crawls on the ground.  For i am the Lord Who brought you up from the Land of Egypt to be your God.  Thus you shall be holy because I am holy.
     Here we are given to understand that accepting the discipline of kashrut endows us with holiness.  i find this to be an astounding and energizing concept:  holiness is not exclusively a divine state, it is an attainable goal for human beings as well.
     In traditional parlance, a Jewish congregation is referred to as a kehillah k'doshah, as a holy congregation.  I believe that our Torat Yisrael community, on the verge of leaving our 60 year old building in Cranston and preparing to settle in East Greenwich is very much a kehillah k'doshah, a holy community.  We express this in innumerable ways: we support the hungry in our state through our partnership with the Edgewood Food Pantry in the Church of the Transfiguration on Broad Street and our support of the Chester Kosher Food Closet; we support the homeless in our state through our annual Kosher Christmas Dinner for the Rhode Island Family Shelter; we are committed to the perpetuation of the covenant between God and Israel through our outstanding Torat Tots, Yeladon and Cohen Religious School; we deepen the Jewish spiritual and intellectual journeys of our members through our services and Torah study.  We declare our commitment to striving for that exalted k'dushah / holiness that God offers us through our adherence to the system of Kashrut.
     The insights of this week's parashah are a gift: by the simple, accessible means of choosing eggplant parmesan over veal parmesan we can take a step towards human holiness: a gift of an eternally accessible opportunity to us as individuals and to us as a kehillah k'doshah, a holy congregation.

Parashat Emor            Torah Reading:  Leviticus 21:1-24:23

In this week's parashah, God tells the Jewish people, "You shall not profane My holy name, that I may be sanctified in the midst of the people of Israel."  This verse is the source of a mitzvah/commandment called "kiddush hashem/the sanctification of God's name."

Rabbi Brad Artson, in his wonderful book, The Everyday Torah, explains:
  Life presents us with a simple choice: how we live our lives can either heighten a sense of God in the world, or it can diminish it. There is no neutral, middle ground.
  By treating our fellow human beings with generosity, we bear witness to God's generosity. Acts of greed and selfishness make that bounty harder to perceive.
  By speaking out against oppression and bigotry, we affirm God as the righteous judge, the One passionate about justice. To remain silent in the face of such suffering is to eclipse God's justice. 
  In everything we do, we can help other people to know that there is a God; we can bring credit to the God of Israel and to God's Torah.  As the great nineteenth-century rabbi Israel Salanter said, "Compassion is the foundation of belief. For a person who isn't compassionate, even the belief in God is a kind of idolatry."

I imagine that most of us who are blessed to be parents have experienced a twinge or two of embarrassment at something our progeny have said or done:  our two-year-old might decide that climbing on a table is a great challenge . . . at a restaurant; our teenager might emerge from the bathroom with purple hair . . . just as we're leaving for the airport for a family vacation; our seven-year-old may have a meltdown at the supermarket when told that the tempting, neon-colored breakfast cereal will not be making an appearance in our shopping basket.  (Disclaimor:  my kids have done none of these things, but I'll spare them the embarrassment of telling you what they have done!) 

What this week's Torah reading provides is the wonderous insight that our actions might embarrass or disappoint God.  If our actions will sanctify God's name, then our actions can do the opposite as well.  Not only has God created us with free will, with the capacity to discern right from wrong and the self-determination to decide which we will pursue . . . but God has also created us with the capacity to bring Kedushah/Holiness to the world through the great and small decisions we make every day.

Right now, with the simplest of decisions, we can make God proud.  That is awesome!

Parashat Vayikra                        Torah Reading:  Leviticus  1:1-5:26

This Shabbat we begin reading the third book of the Torah:  Vayikra/Leviticus.  In historic rabbinic circles, this book is also referred to as "Torat Kohanim" or "Instruction to the Priests." 

We generally do not think about Judaism having priests . . . but during the millennia in which Israelite religion centered on the portable Tabernacle/Mishkan in the wilderness years through the times of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem (the last iteration of which was destroyed by the forces of the Roman Empire in 70 ce) it was the Kohanim, the Priestly Class that played a central role in all public rituals and observances.  The Kohanim were the experts in matters of ritual, sacrifice and even certain types of disease and environmental contamination.

The Torah book of Leviticus/Vayikra served as their manual of instruction.

It is interesting to me, and I think significant in terms of the ethos of Judaism, that this Priestly Manual was a matter of public record, and not a document that was available only to the Kohanim themselves.  Throughout human history, for as far back as we have been able to reconstruct the precepts of organized religion, there has been a tendency to keep access to certain knowledge limited to a closed circle of religious leaders. 

This has never been the case in Judaism.  Although there were certain rituals and certain observances that could only be performed by a kohein/priest during the millennia during which the Israelite sacrificial cult was practiced, the rules that those kohanim had to learn were accessible in the text of the Torah which was public knowledge as part of God's revelation to the entire people of Israel.

To this day, there is no secret learning that is shared only with rabbis.   Understanding the fine points of Jewish law, history, custom and theology requires time and effort.  But the richness of our tradition is available and accessible to anyone who wants to delve into it.

What a unique blessing is the very presence of this book of Vayikra/Leviticus in our Torah!