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Parashat Bo
January 28, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg
This week, the drama of the Exodus continues, as God strikes Egypt with the last three plagues – locusts, darkness and the killing of the first-born. As I read the parasha I had a few observations that may be connected.
First - The Women’s Torah Commentary points out that the word “plague” in Hebrew, which is “nega,” is only used to describe the plagues of hail and the killing of the first born. This may be because those events each took human life. It is interesting to note that what we call the other “plagues” are referred to in Torah as “signs” and “marvels.”
Second – when Moses and Aaron leave Pharaoh’s presence before the last plague, Pharaoh tells them, “Take care not to see me gain, for the moment you look upon my face you shall die.” I thought this was an interesting parallel to Moses’ encounter with God at the burning bush, when he is afraid to look at God, lest he die.
Lastly– the Hebrew root “SHaMaR” appears 7 times in Chapter 12. This root carries the meaning of watching over or protecting. The Hebrews are told to watch over the paschal lamb for 2 weeks before sacrificing it; they are instructed to watch over the matzah; and the night when God passes over the Israelites homes and strikes Egypt with the final plague is called a “vigil” or “miSHMeRet.”
I think these observations are connected to our conversation last week about God’s power, Pharaoh’s delusions about his own power, and the Israelites’ difficulty in acknowledging God’s power to save them. The plagues are more than just plagues – one set of them are signs and marvels meant to persuade both the Israelites and Pharaoh of God’s power over the land of Egypt and over Pharaoh. Pharaoh continues to address Moses and Aaron as if he believes that he is a god – they cannot look at his face again and live. And yet, they will look at his face again, after the final plague, when Pharaoh finally lets the people go. Finally, the Israelites’ experience of being watched over and protected gives them the faith to finally listen and go.
I look forward to hearing your reflections on these and your own observations.
On another note, we will also explore the theological problem of God’s slaying of innocent Egyptian children. We’ll discuss a very good essay from the Women’s commentary which addresses this problem.
Shabbat Shalom!
Friday, January 27, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Scrollers Preview - Parashat Va-eira
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Parashat Va-eira
January 21, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg
This week the plagues begin. As we read of the first seven plagues that come in this parasha, we’ll see they come in groups of three, in a symmetrical pattern. The first two in each group are always preceded by a warning, and the third comes without warning. Each time Pharaoh’s heart is hardened, and he does not let the Israelite people go. After the fourth plague of “Arov” (swarms of insects of wild beasts – we are not sure) Pharaoh almost relents, allowing the Israelites to make a sacrifice to God within the land of Egypt; and then to leave the land, but not to go very far. But once the plague ceases, Pharaoh becomes stubborn again. After the seventh plague of hail Pharaoh even admits, “I stand guilty this time. The Lord is in the right, and I and my people are in the wrong. . . I will let you go; you need stay no longer.” But once the hail ceases, Pharaoh’s heart stiffens again, and he doesn’t let them go.
Here we have yet another opportunity to explore the interplay between human action and Divine will.
Commenting on the phenomenon of Pharaoh’s “hardening of heart,” Moshe Greenberg writes:
“Although ‘hardening of the heart’ seems deterministic, events flow naturally from the ambitions and conflicts of a human being, Pharaoh, who is seized with the delusion of self-sufficiency. While events unfold under the providence of God, their unfolding is always according to the motives of the human beings through which God’s will is done without their realizing it . . . Pharaoh conducted himself in conformity with his own motives and his own Godless view of his status. God made it so, but Pharaoh had only to be himself to do God’s will.”
For Greenberg, God’s will flows through human action, in harmony with the interests and motives of the human beings through which God works.
In contrast to Greenberg, A.J. Heschel writes that “Those in whom viciousness becomes second nature, those in whom brutality is linked with haughtiness, forfeit their ability and therefore their right” to the gift of free will. Heschel seems to be saying that once a person has become accustomed to acting inhumanely, that person no longer has a will of his or her own. If I understand him correctly, a person whose ego is linked with viciousness and inhumanity is truly God-less. That person has become his or her own god, and therefore has lost the true Divine gift of free will.
In reading the parasha and trying to understand the relationship between Pharaoh and God, these thinkers each bring a different take on God and evil. I look forward to wrestling with this question with you on Shabbat!
Parashat Va-eira
January 21, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg
This week the plagues begin. As we read of the first seven plagues that come in this parasha, we’ll see they come in groups of three, in a symmetrical pattern. The first two in each group are always preceded by a warning, and the third comes without warning. Each time Pharaoh’s heart is hardened, and he does not let the Israelite people go. After the fourth plague of “Arov” (swarms of insects of wild beasts – we are not sure) Pharaoh almost relents, allowing the Israelites to make a sacrifice to God within the land of Egypt; and then to leave the land, but not to go very far. But once the plague ceases, Pharaoh becomes stubborn again. After the seventh plague of hail Pharaoh even admits, “I stand guilty this time. The Lord is in the right, and I and my people are in the wrong. . . I will let you go; you need stay no longer.” But once the hail ceases, Pharaoh’s heart stiffens again, and he doesn’t let them go.
Here we have yet another opportunity to explore the interplay between human action and Divine will.
Commenting on the phenomenon of Pharaoh’s “hardening of heart,” Moshe Greenberg writes:
“Although ‘hardening of the heart’ seems deterministic, events flow naturally from the ambitions and conflicts of a human being, Pharaoh, who is seized with the delusion of self-sufficiency. While events unfold under the providence of God, their unfolding is always according to the motives of the human beings through which God’s will is done without their realizing it . . . Pharaoh conducted himself in conformity with his own motives and his own Godless view of his status. God made it so, but Pharaoh had only to be himself to do God’s will.”
For Greenberg, God’s will flows through human action, in harmony with the interests and motives of the human beings through which God works.
In contrast to Greenberg, A.J. Heschel writes that “Those in whom viciousness becomes second nature, those in whom brutality is linked with haughtiness, forfeit their ability and therefore their right” to the gift of free will. Heschel seems to be saying that once a person has become accustomed to acting inhumanely, that person no longer has a will of his or her own. If I understand him correctly, a person whose ego is linked with viciousness and inhumanity is truly God-less. That person has become his or her own god, and therefore has lost the true Divine gift of free will.
In reading the parasha and trying to understand the relationship between Pharaoh and God, these thinkers each bring a different take on God and evil. I look forward to wrestling with this question with you on Shabbat!
Friday, January 13, 2012
Scrollers preview for 1/14/12 - Parashat Shemot
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Parashat Shemot
1/14/2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg
In his introduction to the book of Exodus, in the Etz Hayyim commentary, Nahum Sarna echoes the question we have been asking in Scrollers these last couple of weeks about why the Torah doesn’t describe what happened during the 400 year period in Egypt. Sarna writes: “Details relating to the period of oppression are sparse; there is not mention of the inner life and communal existence of the people. This limitation suggests a high degree of selectivity, and the intent of the selective focus is didactic. In Exodus, God is the sole actor, the initiator of events. The various episodes project Israelite concepts of God and His relations to the world.”
I wonder if the use of this number, “400” is an exaggeration of the number “40” that we see throughout the Torah. It means we were there for a very very very very long time.
But this isn’t the point, according to Sarna. For him, the book of Exodus has a “selective focus” on the role of God in history and the life of our people. For him, God is the “sole actor, the initiator of events.”
Do we agree with Sarna? As we watch God related to humans in this book, can we see any continuity with Genesis’ depiction of the divine-human relationship? In Genesis we have lots of human action and initiative – Sarah kicks Ishmael out of the camp to insure Isaac’s inheritance of the covenant. Rebekah sends Jacob in to fool his father into giving him the blessing of the first born. Human beings play a part in moving God’s plan forward.
How about in the book of Exodus? Do we agree with Sarna that God is the “sole actor, the initiator of events?” When Moses slays the taskmaster who is beating a Hebrew slave, the commentary points out that Moses takes action before God does. And throughout our parasha, women – from the Hebrew midwives to Moses’ mother, to his sister Miriam, to Pharaoh’s daughter – take plenty of initiative. They take enormous risks. Where is God in their actions? Do human being move God to act?
Parashat Shemot
1/14/2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg
In his introduction to the book of Exodus, in the Etz Hayyim commentary, Nahum Sarna echoes the question we have been asking in Scrollers these last couple of weeks about why the Torah doesn’t describe what happened during the 400 year period in Egypt. Sarna writes: “Details relating to the period of oppression are sparse; there is not mention of the inner life and communal existence of the people. This limitation suggests a high degree of selectivity, and the intent of the selective focus is didactic. In Exodus, God is the sole actor, the initiator of events. The various episodes project Israelite concepts of God and His relations to the world.”
I wonder if the use of this number, “400” is an exaggeration of the number “40” that we see throughout the Torah. It means we were there for a very very very very long time.
But this isn’t the point, according to Sarna. For him, the book of Exodus has a “selective focus” on the role of God in history and the life of our people. For him, God is the “sole actor, the initiator of events.”
Do we agree with Sarna? As we watch God related to humans in this book, can we see any continuity with Genesis’ depiction of the divine-human relationship? In Genesis we have lots of human action and initiative – Sarah kicks Ishmael out of the camp to insure Isaac’s inheritance of the covenant. Rebekah sends Jacob in to fool his father into giving him the blessing of the first born. Human beings play a part in moving God’s plan forward.
How about in the book of Exodus? Do we agree with Sarna that God is the “sole actor, the initiator of events?” When Moses slays the taskmaster who is beating a Hebrew slave, the commentary points out that Moses takes action before God does. And throughout our parasha, women – from the Hebrew midwives to Moses’ mother, to his sister Miriam, to Pharaoh’s daughter – take plenty of initiative. They take enormous risks. Where is God in their actions? Do human being move God to act?
Friday, January 6, 2012
Scrollers preview for 1/7/12 - Parashat Vayechi
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Parashat Vayechi
January 7, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg
“Vayechi” means “he lived.” Interesting title for a parasha mostly about death and burial! But this is also a parasha about blessing the next generation.
As we wrap up the book of Genesis, Jacob is on his deathbed, and we have two scenes of blessing, one as he blesses his grandchildren Ephraim and Manasseh, and the other as he blesses of each of his sons. Jacob recalls where the ancestors are buried, in the Cave of Machpelah, and he instructs his sons to bury him there. Earlier, he also recounts to Joseph how he buried his wife Rachel on the road to Bethlehem. At the end of the parasha, Joseph dies, and the last words of the book of Genesis are that “he was embalmed and placed in a coffin in Egypt.”
As we finish reading this book, it is as if we are attending a funeral, or multiple funerals. Every single dead ancestor is mentioned, up to and including Joseph. What is the Torah trying to tell us here? What is the impact on the reader of recounting all of these deaths and burials and burial plots at the end of Genesis? What and who is really dying here?
Next week as we begin the book of Exodus, we will no longer tell the story of individual ancestors and their families; we will begin the story of a nation. What needs to be buried in order to begin this new phase? What will be the continuous thread? How will the blessings manifest themselves in the future?
Parashat Vayechi
January 7, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg
“Vayechi” means “he lived.” Interesting title for a parasha mostly about death and burial! But this is also a parasha about blessing the next generation.
As we wrap up the book of Genesis, Jacob is on his deathbed, and we have two scenes of blessing, one as he blesses his grandchildren Ephraim and Manasseh, and the other as he blesses of each of his sons. Jacob recalls where the ancestors are buried, in the Cave of Machpelah, and he instructs his sons to bury him there. Earlier, he also recounts to Joseph how he buried his wife Rachel on the road to Bethlehem. At the end of the parasha, Joseph dies, and the last words of the book of Genesis are that “he was embalmed and placed in a coffin in Egypt.”
As we finish reading this book, it is as if we are attending a funeral, or multiple funerals. Every single dead ancestor is mentioned, up to and including Joseph. What is the Torah trying to tell us here? What is the impact on the reader of recounting all of these deaths and burials and burial plots at the end of Genesis? What and who is really dying here?
Next week as we begin the book of Exodus, we will no longer tell the story of individual ancestors and their families; we will begin the story of a nation. What needs to be buried in order to begin this new phase? What will be the continuous thread? How will the blessings manifest themselves in the future?
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