Did Noah Drink Alone

 Jewish tradition contains a great deal of ceremony that includes drinking a cup of wine. There is Kiddush at the Shabbas meals, and Yom Tov meals as well…Not to mention four cups of wine at the Pesach Seder. There’s wine drunk under the chuppah, and even wine given to the babe at the bris (to sooth him and numb him from the pain to come). And there is often a great deal of wine on Purim and Simchas Torah. And yet, on the whole, Jews are not known as a drunken people, perhaps because at each of these occasions at which wine is drunk, one is meant to be sharing time with others.

The first mention of wine in the Torah comes in Bereishis 9, in Parshas Noah. After the world has been destroyed and Hashem has made the covenant of the rainbow with Noah, the Torah states: “And Noah began to be a man of the soil, and he planted a vineyard” (9:20). Most commentaries immediately flag the fact that planting a vineyard was what Noah chose as his very first action. One would think that he would first plant food. Noah planted a vineyard and immediately the Torah tells us that he drank and got drunk and embarrassed himself. His son, Ham, derided him while his other two sons, Shem and Yafes, tried to treat him respectfully. When Noah woke from his wine induced slumber, probably with a fearsome hangover, he cursed  son Canaan.

This famous story, when looked at a little closer, leads to some rather fascinating realizations about how we read the Torah. Telling time in the Torah is not always a simple thing, to say the least. With its string of conjunction vav’s, and…and…and…, it often sounds as if one thing happened right after another, and they are therefore related. Certainly, one reading the narrative of Noah imagines it all happening as consecutive action. Noah and sons get out of the Ark, build an altar for an offering, receive Hashem’s blessing and covenant, and set to farming the land and plant a vinyard. There is no mention of a passage of time, which makes Noah’s taking to drink seem all the more unacceptable.

But then there’s Canaan. When Noah gets drunk and goes “uncovered in his tent” (9:21), the Torah tells us: “And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw his father’s nakedness” (9:22). After Noah awakens, he doesn’t curse Ham, but rather Ham’s son Canaan. Not surprisingly, given the pacing of the Parsha, most people don’t stop to question where Canaan came from. After all, it is stated quite clearly that only Noah and his wife and his three sons and their wives got onto the Ark. The subtly active role of Canaan in these verses tell us that Noah did not just hop out of the Ark and think about getting drunk.

Given the fact that the Midrash states that Noah and his sons and Noah’s wife and his sons’ wives kept themselves apart while the flood ravaged the land, we can assess that Canaan was not even conceived until after the catastrophe. But then, if Noah turned to farming so soon after the covenant of the rainbow, how old could Ham have been at the time of Noah’s drunkenness? Researching grapes, one finds that there is a common assessment that it takes from 3-7 years for a grapevine to bear fruit. Once we are realizing that these situations did not take place with the immediacy that is implied in the pacing of the verses, one can now recognize that by the time Ham insulted his father’s dignity, Canaan was already a child old enough to be influenced by the actions of those around him…if not already a young adult.

This leads to a basic question of why Noah sought to get drunk. One might have thought that Noah was drinking as a means to forget the destruction of the world that he knew, but now we know that a significant amount of time has passed. Life is moving forward and there is a whole world to rebuild…a whole world for his sons and their wives and his grandchildren. Noah, who was a unique and special man from among his generation, finds himself on the other side of life and perhaps doesn’t know what to do with himself. This is would also, possibly, explain why some commentaries accentuate the idea that Noah wanted to have a fourth child and was prevented from doing so by the actions of Ham. That fourth child would have brought him relevance among the next generation.

Planting the vineyard would not, in itself, seem to be a problem. One can assume that they all drank some wine. Archeological and historical studies have found that wine or beer was often the more common drink than water. The problem was that Noah drank to excess, and did so, perhaps, purposefully because he no longer felt a purpose. The problem was that Noah did not feel connected to the world his sons were building. Shem and Yafet could show such a perspective sympathy. Ham could not.

Understanding the motivations of the Biblical personalities helps us to understand deeper lessons in the Torah. Here, where it is easy to take an attitude of condescension to Noah for his behavior, perhaps one should also take the time to think about his motivations. Perhaps one needs to contemplate Noah’s life before, during, and after the flood. Perhaps one needs to not glance quickly at the situation and presume a failing, but rather think through the steps that brings a person to a place.  In learning to do so, we come back to the beautiful truth at the heart of Jewish life: we are a family and we are meant to be there for each other.  

Shabbat Shalom

 

Sons of the Mighty and Their Wives

 Parshas Bereishis, in the beginning… so many times our Divrei Torah start in the beginning of the parsha. For this reason, I decided to base the parsha this week on the last perek of the parsha, Perek Vav (6), of which only 8 pasukim (verses) are included.

Parshas Bereishis is the outline of the creation of the world and the history of the origins of humanity. Adam and Chava begat their sons, and their sons begat other children, and the population of the world increased, just as Hashem had commanded and blessed when He said peru u’revu – be fruitful and multiply.

The sixth chapter of Bereishis begins with statement of time: “And it was when man began to multiply on the face of the earth and daughters were born to them” (Bereishis 6:1). This pasuk has two very interesting dimensions to explore. The first question is the use of the word rov, multiply, which has the implication not just of increasing numbers but also of strength or greatness. It was not just that there were now so many people, but rather that they began to delineate greatness among themselves. Thus it makes sense when the commentators explain that the bnei eh’lohim described in the next verse in contrast to bnei ha’adam refers to the sons of princes or men of power rather than to a more literal “sons of god.”

Rabbi Shimshon Rafael Hirsh explains the opinion that these b’nei eh’lohim were the descendants of Seth, Adam’s son born after the death of Hevel at Kayin’s hands. In Seth’s line, “the godly, even if not strong enough to effect the complete salvation of the generation, did always recur.” When the Torah describes those who had grown mighty, it is relating to an elite that had a greater affinity to connecting to the Divine, as opposed to the descendants of Kayin who worked toward invention and industry but without looking for Divine purpose.

The second half of the first verse is more perplexing. Why is the time frame defined by the time when daughters were born to them? After all, throughout the list of begettings (Chapter 5), it frequently states “and he begot sons and daughters.” Not to mention that if there hadn’t been daughters, there would not be begettings…

Perhaps the daughters mentioned here are the daughters of those who were growing in greatness, the daughters of the line Seth specifically. This would give us an interesting perspective on verse 6:2, which states: “And the sons of the mighty saw the daughters of men, that they were good and pleasing, and they took them for wives from whomsoever they chose.” As all the commentators seem to agree, the sons of the mighty put beauty and pleasing ways at the forefront of their decision making, and they found that in the line of Kayin rather than in those who were more spiritually focused. Perhaps there is an inference in these two verses together that not only were the sons of the elite choosing wives from those who were less focused on spirituality, but that they were ignoring women of caliber from their own extensive line.

This may sound elitist, but that is not the intention. A girl from b’nei ha’adam could be one who strove to connect with the Divine and thus would be a good match. The intention of this severe demarcation is noting that the priority was on their being good and pleasing, but not on their background, not on the possibility of having absorbed negative traits. Rav Hirsch explains further, when discussing the verse’s statement that they took from whomsoever they chose, that “They married girls without considering where they were taking them from.”

Family matters. Thus Rav Hirsh continues to explain that it was not an impossibility for such a union to produce a line that was spiritually forward thinking, but that it held great risk. That risk came to fruition, for corruption increased upon the earth. The Midrashim describe that the violence referred to in Parshas Noah included men grabbing women they desired to marry, even women who were already married. The value system skewed, and it ended in the near destruction of the world.

Jewish tradition teaches us that all humans are b’tzelem E-lokim, created in the image of God. The people of the world are divided into 70 nations, and each of these nations has a derech, a path, and a tafkid, a purpose. Bnei Yisrael is distinct among the nations in that our purpose is spiritual connection, and here in Bereishis is a lesson to help us remember to focus on our values and not the values of others.

Parshas Ha’azinu – A Very Short Thought on the Poetry of Rain

Parshas Ha’azinu holds a unique place in the cycle of the Jewish year. A parsha of pure poetry, and thus  sometimes difficult to distill a Dvar Torah, it is read during the busiest time on the calendar.

 

Reading the parsha on the brink of Sukkot, there is a special inference that one might see in the opening verses of Parshas Ha’azinu: “Hear, O’ Heavens, I shall speak; Let the earth hear the words of my mouth. May my discourse come down like rain; My words flow like dew; like showers on vegetation; and like raindrops on the grass” (Devarim 32:1-2).

 

Although it is a normal poetic form for an idea to be repeated, there is much to learn from Devarim 32:2. Moshe opens his final song with a comparison of his words to rain. We all know that now is the season when we pray for rain. From an agricultural perspective, that prayer would most probably be shaped more specifically as a prayer for the right rain. (Afterall, a monsoon that sweeps away the soil is also rain.)

 

Traditionally, the Torah is compared to Mayim Chaim, to living water. Just as every living creation needs rain, we know that there cannot be life without Torah. And so, Moshe crafts the opening of his final song.

 

We receive Torah in many ways. Sometimes it is the steady repetition of study, an even flow of regular intake that nourishes us evenly. Sometimes we learn Torah gently, like dew, from the regular ebb and flow of life, from the routine of living our lives. Sometimes true Torah has to be thrust upon us, powerful and loud. Sometimes we have to pay special attention around us to notice the Torah.

 

The earth is nourished by rain. Klal Yisrael is nourished by Torah. This is the basic fact of existence.

 

May you all have a Good Shabbas and a true Zman Simchaseinu.

YK

 

Yom Kippur – Atonement as Prayer

I’ve been trying to do the work I need to do before Yom Kippur, and it isn’t easy. I listen to shiurim and get distracted halfway through (If I’m lucky enough to get that far). I sit to try and self-reflect, and I end up in a spiral of thoughts leading downward… or smacking into a brick wall.

 

I want to be able to be present for this great day… I want to be able to really connect to each of the “al chaits,” to determine how I have transgressed and how I can do better. I want to feel the terror and trembling we hear of from previous generations so that I can also access the sweet that follows with the knowledge that the tefillos are accepted.

 

For now, I simply continue to strive.

 

On Rosh Hashana I made small index cards for myself, notes of inspiration to help me focus on accepting Hashem as Melech and all that that might entail. For Yom Kippur, I was contemplating making other cards…but what would I put that is not already encompassed by the established service?

 

The honest answer is that my personal atonement is directly connected to my greatest yearning.

 

Please forgive me Hashem for not working hard enough to connect to you.

Please grant me atonement for choosing the path of least resistance when more effort would have garnered me greater spiritual reward.

Please know that when I fight, it is, at its heart, a fight to come closer to You.

 

Please accept that I don’t know how to fix my ills. I have intentions, but my path is so murky.

And even as I read these personal reflections, part of me is rebelling. Part of me knows that my davening kavana will not suddenly improve, that I will still go running into Shabbas, that I might be nivel peh when stuck in traffic…and etc.

 

And thus the cycle starts again. I want to move forward and yet there is a wall, a blockage. And this is the stark truth of my reality, I pray for You to draw me close even as I ask pardon for pushing You away.

 

It hurts. It’s hard to face oneself with one’s truth (and so I will , most probably, blithely forget the emotions behind these thoughts even a few moments after I write them). When Yom Kippur is over, however, I will have my own victory to celebrate. I shall be left, if not with perfect atonement, then at least with a spark of hope, a kernel of optimism, that my desire to connect to Hashem has earned me another year to grow.

 

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A Second Short Thought

There is so much we can learn from the two goats of Yom Kippur in the Beis Hamikdash. This ritual is the source of the term scapegoat, which refers to that on which we place the blame for our failings. The other goat is sacrificed in the avodah.

 

Perhaps on Yom Kippur, reading about this part of the service, I should think about how I am presenting my atonement to Hashem. Forgive me for loshen harah (I only said it because of what she did). Forgive my transgressions with food (I mean I was starving, but I should have made a bracha.) Forgive my willfulness (You did create us with freewill!)

Am I making my atonements as if I am placing them on the scapegoat – these are my sins, but, you know, they aren’t so bad… or am I making my atonement to connect with the avodah, to be cleansed through the service?

 

I hope that the latter can be my motivation, but I fear that the former reigns over my actions. I am writing in honesty. I am not chastising myself. This is a step; one step out of many. This year, perhaps, I gain knowledge, and, knowledge will provide the power to change.

 

I wish you all a Gmar Chasima Tova… and I tip my hat in debt to Esty, you know what I mean.

Parshas Vayelech – Bound to Fail, and That’s Ok

Three times in Parshas Vayelech the verse Chazak Vayamatz, be strong and courageous, is uttered, and three times in Parshas Vayelech the text goes into detail about the future downfall of the nation. Be strong, lead them well, expect them to fail, and Hashem will still remember His covenant… this is the message that Moshe receives from Hashem and that Bnei Yisrael receives from Moshe.

 

It is, of course, not by chance that Parshas Vayelech is read at the auspicious time of the Yomim Norayim, the “High Holidays.” And during a leap year (such as this year), we are granted the opportunity to look at Parshas Vayelech on its own and to focus on its unique message… a message that is particularly important to remember as we contemplate the impending celebration of Yom Kippur.  

 

It could, perhaps, be said, that Yom Kippur is a celebration of humanity. This may seem like a shocking statement, but only until we realize that if there is one unified character trait of all of humanity, it is that, try as we might, we make many mistakes. We are not creatures of instinct, like the animals, nor beings of obedience, like the angels. There has never been a perfect human nor a perfect society.

 

Moshe tells the people not to worry that he will not be entering the Promised Land with them. He tells them that Yehoshua will lead them by Divine command. And he tells them, “Be strong and courageous! Neither fear, nor be dismayed of them [the Cananites], for the Lord, your God He is the One Who goes with you. He will neither fail you, nor forsake you" (31:6).  Then Moshe gives Yehoshua a similar message: Be strong and courageous, you will succeed, and Hashem “will neither fail you, nor forsake you. Do not fear, and do not be dismayed" (6:8). On this note of positive messaging, his duty of leadership transfer is seemingly done.

 

But Moshe isn’t done, and Yehoshua isn’t ready. It isn’t all a neat little package, and this is the most important connection to the Yomim Norayim. Now is when Hashem states, not once but twice, that Bnei Yisrael will not only stray but will bring down Hashem’s fury upon them. Indeed, Hashem even declares that He will hide His face from them.

In between declarations of the future failings of Bnei Yisrael. Hashem commands Moshe to write a song to bear witness to the future Children of Israel. Only after he has done so does Hashem speak to Yehoshua, repeating, it seems, Moshe’s earlier words: “Be strong and courageous! For you shall bring the children of Israel to the land that I have sworn to them, and I will be with you."

 

As Moshe hands what he has written to the Leviim to be placed in the Ark, he concludes his speech of earlier by stating forthrightly to them that they will, in time, become corrupt – that they will do evil and will be punished. And so he teaches them the song he has just written at Hashem’s command.

 

There are many discussions what this song is. Was it Haazinu, the next parsha? Was it something not included in the Torah? Was it a reference to the Torah itself? All are possible.

 

Why, one might ask, was it so necessary for Hashem to repeat the future failings of Bnei Yisrael here? After all, Moshe had spoken of it to the people in his final proclamations recorded in the other chapters of Devarim. But Moshe needed to acknowledge it here as he transferred the leadership of the people.

 

Perhaps the reason that the Torah tells us one more time, woven with the words Chazak Vayamatz, Be strong and courageous, is to remind us of the important fact that Hashem is very aware that we are human. Moshe, perhaps, did not want to end his time dwelling upon the fact that Bnei Yisrael would struggle, but Hashem knew that acknowledging our struggle would be the source of our strength, of our ability to move forward.

 

There are many shiurim available that speak of the annual self-doubt about teshuva. We all have the thoughts of: “I wanted to improve, and yet here I stand with the same mistakes, with the same transgressions.” “I wanted to achieve more than I did, and I feel that I have failed.”

 

Be strong and be courageous! That is to each and every one of us. Hashem knows and acknowledges our humanity, our limitations, and the probability of our imperfections… and He loves us anyway.

 

Hashem repeats to Moshe that the people will be corrupted until Moshe accepts it and says it out loud because it needs to be understood that Hashem already knows our regret. He knows our hopes and our dreams, our successes and our failures. We will fail, each of us in our own way, but this knowledge cannot stop us from moving forward, from trying harder, or from taking a slightly different path.

 

On Yom Kippur we will each stand before the King of Kings and beg atonement. It must be done. But we do so not in terror. We do so in celebration. Yom Kippur is a holiday because we know that Hashem will accept our repentance, because in foretelling our failings He has already granted their eventual forgiveness.

 

May each of you have a Gmar Chasima Tova.

Elul Group - RH 5783

First let me thank Ruthie and Caryn for continuing to organize this amazing project. I have been with the Elul group from the beginning, and it seems shocking when I realize the stability it provides me through all of the many life stages I have been through in that time.

 

There is so much about this time of year that gives us hope and inspiration, fear and anxiety, and, perhaps, more than anything else, a yearning for clarity. If I might dare to hypothesize, I think that what most of us really want is to understand why and what’s next. We want to understand why we have our troubles, and we want to know that there is a plan for things to be better. And that great desire… that internal need… is exactly why we need Rosh Hashana, the day on which we specifically affirm Hashem as the King of kings.

 

Those of us who have been raised in modern, Western society have no true concept of kingship. Our leaders are all too human. The more fallible and selfish they have shown themselves - and with our insidious media and full access coverage we see a great deal of it – the less people can relate to the possibility of a true Melech. And without a Melech, we build up our own autonomy, our own power, our own right to have everything in the world as we want it…or to believe it is our right.

 

On Rosh Hashana, however, we have the prime opportunity to remind ourselves, powerfully, that Hashem runs the world.  Hashem has a plan. Hashem knows what is good for His entire kingdom, and we, His individual subjects, do not have access to His knowledge of the “why”s and the “what will be”s.  

 

“Hashem has a plan” is the mantra that has gotten me through a very difficult time in my life… that continues to move me through that situation.  It is a steadying thought. It is a mantra that provides strength. But, in truth, it isn’t a thought that brings great warmth to one in pain. After all, it means my suffering and the turmoil I see in my children is part of Hashem’s plan.

 

Rabbi Uri Deutsch (of Lakewood, formerly of Montreal, speaking on the Coach Menachem Sunday night program) cited an explanation of the Book of Yona’s connection to the Yomim Noaraim from the Chofetz Chaim. (Transcribed from him speaking and abbreviated…)

 

“Yona is a paradigm for what we sometimes do. Hashem has a mission for us. He brought us to this world. Our neshama was brought down from the Kisei Hakavod to experience all the travails and the challenges, the joys and the sorrows, and the profound journey of what it means to be a Jew in an alien world because HKBH declared that the world’s purpose can only be brought about when our neshama comes here. Being able to grapple with that task, to embrace it, and to orientate and guide one’s life along the path of being able to accomplish that unique task, which is ours, is something we so often find ourselves wanting to reject.….

 

The Chofetz Chaim says, Yona was engaged in the struggle to escape the Divine voice which would compel him to fulfill his mission. But says the CC, HKBH doesn’t allow the person to escape his destiny. And HKBH in his omnipresent, in his hashgacha, will encircle the person, guide him, and will eventually create the circumstances that will force him to face the growth, the journey, the struggle, the challenge, and the joy that the Ribbono Shel Olam wants their life to be. So once Yona is out on the sea, the Ribbono Shel Olam creates an unnatural storm. He then goes as far as to bring a fish, in bizarre circumstance, to again bring Yona back to where he should be, and eventually Yona realizes that this is the purpose of him being the navi of Hashem and accepts all the challenge, all the agony, all the pain, and all the confusion of carrying out a mission which to him sees pointless…”

 

When I heard Rabbi Deutsch’s shiur, I felt greatly moved to think of this situation as my “whale” (ok, big fish) and to hope that I can find my way out of it, to find the teshuva that I need to do, before He determines (Chas v’shalom) that I need to find an even less comfortable situation.

 

But teshuva is hard, especially when you are feeling punished. It is especially difficult when you feel like part of you has been broken and you know that Hashem already knows your pain. And so the perpetual cycle of doubt and wonder presses harder as I come into Elul. How will I really daven? How will I get through these days when my pain causes me to be so incredibly focused on myself.

 

I have spent years focused on the definition of teshuva as repentance. I know the Rambam’s four steps. I understand changing myself, becoming a better person, and fixing the errors I have made.  First, however, I need to look at teshuva for its most literal definition: returning.  And for this I turn to Avinu Malkeinu. Right now, in my life, I find that I often wake up with a desperate need for a hug. I’ve learned to ask my kids if they will just hug me to get that physical need fulfilled… But the truth is that the need is deeply existential. I am longing for a “hug from Hashem.” I yearn to feel as if I am safe – safe from pain, safe from sadness, safe from being hurt any further. My teshuva right now is to understand that the hug Hashem is giving me may be in the form of the belly of the whale, so to speak.  

 

In this year’s Rosh Hashana Mishpacha, in an article by Rabbi Reuven Leuchter (“Look into the Mirror,” page 77).  Writes about not spending Rosh Hashana focused on worrying if we are davening properly, if our teshuva is acceptable, if our prayers have enough kavanah. But rather, he explains, we should focus on the words and thus discover “the world of Malchus Shamayim. If we look a little more deeply into that world, we’ll see not only Hashem’s grandeur, but, surprisingly, also ourselves….The Musaf tefillah of Rosh Hashanah shows us that Malchus Shamayim has a role - an individual avodah, our own personal contribution to making Hashem’s malchus manifest in the world.” He explains about the section on Zichronos:  “We think we’re insignificant, and Hashem must have written us off. Say the pesukim: Hashem calls out into the ears of Yerushalayim, ‘I remember how you followed Me into the dessert! I remember that!’ No matter what we’ve done, we haven’t lost our importance to Hashem and His malchus.”

 

It all comes together. Hashem, Avinu, has a plan. Hashem, Malkeinu, has a plan. No matter how lost I feel, or how trapped, or how alone, those are just feelings. The reality that often seems so hidden to us is most accessible on Rosh Hashana. A true king, a Melech in the Divine sense of the word, brings tests and challenges, as well and joys and simcha, into our life, to move us forward in our true purpose. Our task, which sounds far simpler than it is, is to recognize that unity of purpose given to us by Avinu Maleinu.

 

To this wonderful group of women as we travel this path together, may you all be blessed to find clarity and success, and to learn to appreciate the path on which you yourself traverse, in the year to come.

 

My tzedakah this year went to a fund being collected: Keren Grushos v’Almanos.

Parshas Shoftim: More Than Property Lines

Parshas Shoftim covers a range of topics, most of them at least at some length. There is however, one topic that seems to be a verse that stands alone: “You shall not move your neighbor’s boundary, that the earlier ones set as borders in your inheritance, in the land that Hashem your God will give to you for an inheritance” (Devarim 19:14).

This is a good law, of course. It is not just good because it is a Torah law; it is a good law because it seems to be a base-line of normal civilized behavior. Moving the boundary line of a neighbor’s property implies theft of the most despicable kind. It is subterfuge. An inch and an inch and an inch…and suddenly there is a foot of difference between the original property allotments. Thus, Hashem declaring a prohibition of just such an act seems appropriate

What makes this pasuk interesting, and not just appropriate, is its placement. The verse comes just before the Torah discusses the requirement of two witnesses in any case needing judgement. The requirement for two witnesses is followed by a discussion of what will happen in the case of a false witness. A man who would bear false witness is as despicable as a person who would move a boundary line. They are both malicious acts performed in devious ways.

Additionally, the first thirteen verses of Devarim 19, just before the prohibition of moving the boundary line, discuss the cities of refuge. These verses go into detail about what constitutes manslaughter and what is, in fact, premeditated murder.  The section concludes with a ruling of what to do when a murderer flees to a city of refuge, and that is to show no pity.

“You shall not move your neighbor’s boundary, that the earlier ones set as borders in your inheritance, in the land that Hashem your God will give to you for an inheritance” (Devarim 19:14). In this seemingly disconnected pasuk, one might see the kernel of rot. Envy and jealousy are at the heart of the one with criminal intent, and revenge drives the victim who has already been harmed. Envy and jealousy that lead to such devious plotting also leads to enough hatred to strike down another Jew or to attempt to bear false witness against him.

We are not in the Promised Land, as even in Eretz Yisrael we are not living under Torah law, but the laws of the Torah are for all times and all places. Do not move the boundary line of your brother can impact so many areas of our lives, from the obvious - not stealing property - to the far less obvious transgression of claiming credit for someone else’s ideas or even of playing mind games that affect another person’s emotions.

May we all find satisfaction with the plot that Hashem has granted us and may we constantly look out for one another.