Friday, September 17, 2021
Parshas Ha'azinu: Non-god and Non-people
Thursday, September 9, 2021
Parsha Vayeilech: It Might Be My Fault
The human gift for rationalization is a common topic for divrei Torah during the month of Tishrei, during the weeks when the Children of Israel even today spend time in self reflection and teshuva (repentance). Rationalizing is one of the great tools of the yetzer hara (the evil inclination) in that it is the most natural path for convincing oneself that what is right is wrong and what is wrong is right, or even that something is not quite such a bad thing to do. It is a tool that goes hand in hand with shedding accountability, with an inclination to blame.
On a national level, these behaviors have been at the heart of our people’s greatest downfalls, and we were well and truly warned that this would be so. In Parshas Vayeilech, Hashem calls Moshe to the Tent of Meeting to begin the process of Moshe’s end. Hashem tells Moshe quite clearly that when he is gone, the people will go astray. Not only will they look to foreign gods, but Hashem forecasts that “they will forsake Me and break My covenant that I made with them. Then My anger will flare up against them, and I will abandon them and hide My countenance from them. They shall be easy prey, and many evils and troubles shall befall them. And they shall say on that day, ‘Surely it is because our God is not in our midst that these evils have befallen us’” (Devarim 31:16-17).
Reading this verse, one might be astounded at the chutzpah, at the very idea that they who turned aside from Hashem’s ways could then blame their woes on the absence of Hashem’s presence among them. But this is the yetzer hara. This is human nature’s self-defense mechanism protecting the psyche. No one likes to admit when they have caused their own misfortune.
It is interesting to note how wordy verse 17 is. There are 15 words before the people’s reaction (And they shall say…), which is longer than most single pasukim in the Torah. Here too is an allusion to this being more than a happenstance reaction. Hashem is showing the mechanism of the yetzer harah’s tools. Between “they will forsake Me and break My covenant that I made with them” and the people’s complaint of abandonment, there is a lengthy description of God’s reaction – lengthy in particular since the promise of His anger has been described before. Herein is the explanation of how we so easily externalize fault because if there is any delay in the cause and effect, then we often choose to be blind to the connection.
The end of verse 17 should really state “Surely it is
because our God hid himself from us when we did not follow His ways that these
evils have befallen us.” The lesson here is perfect for this time of year, for
the Aseres Ymai Teshuva (the Ten Days of Repentance). How did our choices bring
us to the point where we could or did do those transgressions for which we need
to repent this year? There is no time like the present, when we are striving to
recognize, confess, and repair our actions that have been cutting us off from
our connection to the Divine, for us to really stop and determine our own role
in the challenges that we face.
Monday, September 6, 2021
Elul 2021 - Learning from the Women of Rosh Hashana
This year I dedicate my Dvar Torah to my amazing sisters, none of whom are biological but all of whom have given me so much helpful love and support.
In honor of these wonderful ladies,
this Dvar Torah will focus on the women of Rosh Hashana. It is interesting to
note that when the sages chose the portions of the Torah and the Neviim to be
read on Rosh Hashana, the primary focus, specifically on the first day, is on
women. The Haftarah of the first day, the story of Chana, is commonly discussed
in its connection to the holiday, but if you ask most people what the Torah
portion of Rosh Hashana is, the response is the Akeidah. However, the Akeidah
is not read until the second day of the holiday and the first day is the
narrative of Sarah and Hagar.
While there are many explanations of
why these portions were chosen, what stood out to me was that in studying Sarah
and Hagar and Chana and Penina, we discover a stunningly complex portrait of
human emotions. This could be said about many places in the Torah, but the
emotions in these portions contain important lessons to us as we face these
auspicious days each year. Let us look at them each more closely:
Penina: As it is written in the text of Shmuel, Penina is a minor but
greatly flowed character. She was Elkana’s other wife, who had proven herself
quite fruitful (10 children) and who is noted for having taunted Chana “Moreover, her rival, to make her miserable, would taunt
her that the LORD had closed her womb. This happened year after year: Every
time she went up to the House of the Lord, the other would taunt her, so that
she wept and would not eat” (Shmuel I 1:6-7). The Midrash
tells us, based, perhaps, on the fact that the text highlights that she did
this most when they went up to the House of the Lord, that Penina taunted Chana
with the intention of pushing Chana to pray.
Regardless
of her intentions, she caused Chana tremendous amount of pain. Eventually, the
blessing (her 10 children) which she had wielded as a cudgel became the source
of her sorrow as, also according to the Midrash, they perished parallel to
Chana’s own growing family. It took the death of eight of her children for her
to gather herself and seek out forgiveness from Chana, which she was
immediately given.
Rosh
Hashana is the Day of Judgement, but it is also the day on which we coronate
the King of kings. We do so by acknowledging that God is omniscient and
omnipresent, that God knows what each of us needs and when. Had Penina simply
loved her children and appreciated her own blessings, rather that use her
blessings as a way to taunt Chana, then no consequence would have ensued. Yes,
she should have encouraged Chana to pray, but flaunting her own bounty was not
the appropriate way to do so. Rather she should have separated the two actions,
encouraged Chana to pray and loved her children to raise them up in the ways of
Hashem. In this way she would have demonstrated her true gratitude to the King
of kings.
Hagar: Hagar is one of the most complex characters in the Torah. It is
easy to see her as bad because it is human nature seeks a villain to contrast
our heroes, but the truth is never that simple. We are first introduced to
Hagar when she is presented to Avram for a wife to bear children by Sarai. The
Midrash tells us that she was from the royal court of Egypt and that she chose
to be a handmaid to Sarai because she was aware of the uniqueness of Avram and
Sarai. When she becomes pregnant immediately, the relationship of Hagar and
Sarai devolves. She was rude and arrogant to Sarai, and Sarai was cruel to her.
Eventually Hagar fled and was then sent back by an angel. She loses that baby
but quickly becomes pregnant again, gives birth to Ishmael, and all seems fine
for many years until they are sent away by Avraham at Sarah’s insistence. In
the wilderness into which they wandered, Hagar gives up on her sick child, lays
him by the well, and sits down to cry. While the Torah states that God hears
the cries of the boy, He responds to Hagar and promises her that he will live
and thrive.
Although
some criticize Hagar for giving up on her son, for placing herself far from him
when she expected him to die, this story also teaches us about tears. It is ok
to cry. On Rosh Hashana, as we stand before the King of kings and we wish to
beseech him for help, it is ok to cry. It is ok to ask. And when we ask,
miracles can happen. This seems like an obvious message, but if many people are
like me, this is far more challenging than it seems. In our culture today we
are taught not to ask for help, to be strong and available to help others. But
when things get tough… it is more than ok to cry.
Sarah: Sarah’s emotions throughout her long involvement with Hagar are
quite fascinating. She must have had some level of trust and appreciation for
her handmaid to choose her as a second wife for Avram, to choose her to be the
one to have a child, and yet once Hagar is pregnant, it causes her a tremendous
amount of pain. It was probably not just Hagar’s behavior, her loftiness, that
led Sarai to afflict her, but a level of pain sourced from her own burning
desire to have a child. The Torah makes is clear, however, Sarai treated Hagar
so harshly that Hagar fled. Once she returned, however, we hear no more of the
dynamics between the two women. When Sarah tells Avraham to send her and
Yishamel away, it comes from a place of rational thought, the result of her observations
of Yishmael’s behavior and not from animosity toward Hagar.
Rosh
Hashana is the beginning of the Aseres Ymai Teshuva, the ten days of
repentance. Studying Sarah’s behavior in regards to Hagar demonstrates how one
can actually be successful in the hardest part of the act Teshuva, not
repeating the same mistake. This might sound surprising since it appears that
Sarah very much mistreats Hagar a second time, but the two stories only seem
similar until one reads them closely. One can assume that Sarah never “warmed”
back up to Hagar. One can only imagine a strained relationship. But Sarah does
not appear to afflict her maid servant further after she returns and gives
birth to Yishmael. She keeps them with the camp even after she has born her own
child. As we enter the days of Teshuva we can learn from Sarah the simple
message of you can do better.
Chana: There is not much to say about Chana and Rosh Hashana that has
not already been written somewhere and so I will simply add here the words from
the commentary of Rabbi Shimshon Refael Hirsch that I found so powerful:
“Thus
the picture of Hannah, enduring, wishing, hoping, self-examining, praying,
comes before our mental eye on Rosh Hashana, and wishes to lead us out of the
tangled turmoil of our lives thither where peace and tranquility beckons to us
too. Accordingly, her words sound warningly (2:3) how God tests our real
feelings, and “how each single deed is reckoned up by Him,” hence the
importance and responsibility of every single person; and then refers, (verse
6) to the vicissitudes of the external circumstances of life and declares how
it is always the same God of Love (Hashem) Who reveals Himself in every phase
of fortune…”
In
addition to teaching us how to pray and teaching us faith in the continued
hopes that our prayers will be answered positively, Chana’s prayer reminds us
that everything – EVERYTHING – comes from Hashem.
Last
year we stood on the threshold of Rosh Hashana and the universal prayer seemed
to be that the next year would be better. Alas, that same sentiment pervades
today as in addition to the challenges of the Pandemic (different as they are
in each location and every situation), the strife and struggle of the world
seems only to be increasing. On a personal level, I look toward Rosh Hashana
just a few hours away and I wonder what it is that I should daven for exactly…
my own personal struggles – unexpected, unwanted, and, as yet, unappreciated –
have left me grappling with a need to understand. But when I look to the women
of Rosh Hashana, I see a path to help me forward – appreciate my blessings, let
myself cry out my pain to Hashem, work hard to do better in my most challenging
situations, and know that everything – the good, the bad, and the ugly – is
part of Hashem’s plan.
I
wish you all a Shana Tova. I cannot express enough my gratitude to Ruthie and
Caryn for continuing this program year after year and my admiration for each
woman in participating.
I
will let you know later where I give tzedakah today.