Parshas Teruma - Woodworking and Weaving

 Parshas Teruma is well-known for Divrei Torah that speak of what it meant when God instructed Moshe to speak to Bnei Yisrael and “let them take for Me a portion from every man whose heart motivates him.” This leads to all sorts of discussions on topics as direct as what the Israelites had to donate (and from where) to more esoteric contemplations on intent and giving a gift to Hashem.

What Bnei Yisrael gave is important. The Torah lists 16 items: gold, silver, copper, turquoise, purple and scarlet wool, linen, goat hair, red-dyed ram skins, tacshish skins, acacia wood, oil for illumination, spices for anointment, the aromatic incense, shohen stones, and other stones. Then Hashem explained what it was for, which was the building of the Mishkan (Tabernacle).

To be honest, the descriptions transcribed in Parshas Terumah are not particularly exciting unless you are a civil engineer or an artisan. While last week’s parsha was all laws, those still had a slight feel of narrative – the general style of the Torah up until now. Between cubits in height and cubits in width and repetitive counts of the number of rings and staves…well, Teruma becomes a more difficult parsha in which to focus one’s attention. Yet even as Hashem gave these directions, or as other generations have reviewed them, there are those who grow excited at these details… Ask for staves of acacia wood and Reuven the woodcutter is envisioning exactly how to shape the wood. Request rings of gold and Shimon the goldsmith is ready to take to his forge. Tell about the turquoise, purple, and scarlet threads, and Yehuda the dyer knows just what ingredients are needed. Sarah the weaver can envision exactly how she needs to work her loom. Each of the men and women who stepped forward to help construct the Mishkan was continuing the standard of giving set by the beginning words of the parsha, that each person should give as his heart motivated him. They are giving from their hearts and their souls when they give from their creative energy.

In looking at the connection of Parshas Teruma’s opening request of donations given in free-will and the continuing three perakim (chapters) that highlight the need for artisan and artists, we are given an opportunity to assess our personal and communal priorities. Have we as a community looked askance at creative career paths, thinking of them as “bidieved” – well he has no other choice? Have we given our children opportunities to explore a desire for artistic expression? Do our communities facilitate these options, or do we guide our children into singular shoots?

Once upon a time, in the not nearly as distant a past as one might think, people specialized in creating. Each object that a household used needed someone to create it, whereas today we have our formulas and our factories. Each town or region needed their own special artisans and so we valued the craftsmen among us. Learning to do was given weight along side learning from books.

When the Torah describes the making of the ten curtains of the Mishkan as “twisted linen with turquoise, purple and scarlet wool – with a woven design of cherubim shall you make them,” this is a moment to stop and think with awe of the beauty of that curtain, the skill of that weaver, and the generosity of Hashem for giving that weaver the ability to see and transmit a piece of the Divine will.

It isn’t easy to see the benefit of encouraging what can seem to a structured world of mass manufacture that which seems to be frivolity. For those to whom Hashem has given the gift of creative soul – those who are able to look at a tree and see a stave, those who are able to match perfect colors – encouraging and channeling that need to create is critical to their avodas Hashem. Let us prepare now for a generation that can step forward and bring Hashem’s words to life.

Parshas Mishpatim: You, Yous, and the Foundation of Being Better People

 I have often wondered why the English language, unlike so many other languages, no longer has a proper distinction between second person singular and second person plural. No matter how many people an individual is speaking to, one or many, they are all addressed as you. Because of this lacking, when one reads the parsha in English, one might easily miss subtle nuances in the text, such as that which happens in Shemos 22:22-23: “If you (s) do mistreat them [the stranger, the orphan, or the widow, all mentioned in 22:20-21], I will heed their outcry as soon as they cry out to Me, and My anger shall blaze forth and I will put you (pl) to the sword, and your (pl) wives will become widows and your (pl) children orphans.”

There is something fascinating about finding these grammatical flags within the verses of the Torah. In a text in which we believe that every word has meaning and significance, even the basic grammatical participals, the transition from addressing you to you all has a purpose.

The Torah’s injunctions not to mistreat the stranger, the orphan, or the widow is an idea that gets repeated over and over throughout the Torah. These three specifications lay the foundation for building a community that cares. These three specifications are the people most easily lost, taken advantage of, or disdained in the shuffle of society and day-to-day living because most often they have no one specifically looking out for them.

One would not think that it would be necessary to codify kindness to people, especially to those in more needy situations. But God made man and God made Torah and God most certainly understands that there is, in many of us, a very natural tendency to make hierarchies. We take care of those closest to ourselves first, and then those with whom we are familiar, and then those who are other. It takes more conscious effort to be open to people in other circumstances or to empathize beyond one’s personal interest with those in exceptional circumstances.

One interesting aspect of parshas Mishpatim is that in the basic interpersonal laws that it lays down, there is a recognition of some of humankind’s natural, negative character traits. Take hatred for example. While sinas chinam, baseless hatred, is forbidden, the Torah accepts the fact that two people might become enemies. Thus it is written in the Torah: “When you see the donkey of your enemy lying under its burden and would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless raise it with him” (23:4).

Hatred, selfishness, perversions, and violence are all possibilities of inclinations within the human condition, and parshas Mishpatim touches on many of what we might think of as uncrossable lines. It also tells us, as one can interpret from verse 23:4 (helping your enemy), that Hashem knows and expects us to be able to overcome those inclinations. You don’t like someone because they did something to you, because they said something, or because they have an opposing philosophy to life, the Torah does not say that one has to like them. But it does tell us that you have to stop and help them raise up the animal, you do have to still see that they are a person.

In Shemos 22:22-23, Hashem mandates the protection of the stranger, the widow and the orphan, because while selfishness may natural, it is not a good trait. But it is also a character trait that can be mitigated by the society around us. If those around us are generous, we have a tendency to give more of ourselves. If those around us are emotionally hard or lacking in compassion, we tend to be the same. And this, perhaps, is a lesson that can be learned from Verse 22:22-23’s shift from second person singular to second person plural. One person may be performing the act of mistreating the widow or taking advantage of an orphan or wronging a stranger, but when this happens there is an onus upon the whole community for not having come together to protect them, to look out for them. Kindness, as it is often said, begins at home; but home is also where we learn the traits of kindness that we must take into the greater world.

To Be a Goy Kadosh (extra post for Yisro)

One of the most powerful and beautiful injunctions in the Torah is the commandment to the Jewish people to be a goy kadosh, a holy nation. With such weight put to this singular role, it is surprising to look, analyze, and assess the transformation of the word goy from a general term for a nation to a word that our children are indoctrinated to immediately associate with others, with outsiders, with people who are lesser.

This Dvar Torah was actually started months ago, when a child, not my own, made a derogatory comment about goyim and was unable to accept or process the fact that the term goy, in its pure, original meaning, could be used for the Jewish people just as much as for the rest of the world. I apologize now for those who will find my language demanding or hashkafically challenged. This is truly me sharing from my heart.

In teaching our children to disparage, to hate or disdain, "the goyim," we are doing terrible damage to ourselves. Hashem literally instructs us, just before giving us His greatest gift, to “be a mamlechas cohanim and a goy kadosh.” Hashem is appointing us an incredible opportunity! We are a nation chosen to be able to connect with the divine and to represent Hashem’s greatness in the world. Why does this need to be done at the expense of others?

When we build ourselves up only by putting others down, we are actually making ourselves so much smaller. Of course, we have a necessity to keep ourselves separate, to secure the neshamos of our children and the precious gift of the Torah that is our inheritance. Without question we do not want our children emulating the outside world - but when you tell them how lowly the goyim are and then they meet fine, upstanding people, what does this say about our own perception of others who are also Betzelem Elokim... and then we wonder why children won't behave properly for their non-Jewish teachers! Certainly, we have been forewarned that the other nations will persecute us, but they are persecuting us at God’s will for our aveiros, so their persecution - when it is real and not simply perceived - is not an excuse to hold our heads higher and speak ill of them, but rather it is a means for us to check our egos and realign ourselves with our mission.

When we look at the world, we have to stop seeing and thinking in terms of us versus them, that's not the world Hashem wanted us to build. He gave us the Torah so that we have the power of creating a society with us leading them, showing them the way to being ovdei Hashem.

When we read Parshas Yisro we look at the amazing words of the Aserest Hadibros, and we see the foundation steps to building a moral civilization. That’s not a civilization just for us, but Hashem’s goal for all of the world. Let us strive to live up to our roles in the greater world by focusing on our beauty, our grandeur, and our responsibility, and the rest of the world as the creations of Hashem whom we need to inspire.