Scrollers Preview - Mattot-Masei

Scrollers Preview Parashat Matot-Masei Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg We have come to the double parasha at the end of the Book of Numbers. The Israelites are at the threshold of the Promised Land. The next book, Deuteronomy, consists of Moses’ final speech to the Israelites. There, Moses summarizes and remembers incidents from earlier books. But the end of the Book of Numbers is really the end of the narrative of the Torah. This parasha includes some additional laws, including laws about vows, especially the status of women’s vows, and an amendment to the law of inheritance for women. We have a bloody war against the Midianites. Instructions are given on the division of the land of Canaan among the tribes, and we get the story of why the Reubenites, Gadites, and the ½ tribe of Mannasseh are granted holdings outside of Canaan, on the East side of the Jordan river. We also have instructions concerning the towns of the Levites, six of which are set aside as cities of refuge. This year I’m noticing that unlike the endings of previous books, the ending of the Book of Numbers leaves me neither with a sense of completion nor of suspense. Genesis ends with the sons of Jacob in Egypt and a sense of impending doom, Exodus ends with God’s Presence resting on the completed Tabernacle and a sense of hope that God is with us, Leviticus ends with blessings and curses as consequences for Israel’s obeying or disobeying the laws. Here in Numbers, I know the story is over, but it doesn’t really feel like an ending. Parashat Masei opens with a recounting the various encampments of the Israelites throughout their wilderness journey, and this can provide a moment of reflection on what they’ve gone through and where they’ve come from over these 40 years. And we have a view into the future, with the division of the land among the tribes. But this year I feel the need for Deuteronomy, Moses’ personal reflection and exhortation to the people. I need an emotional, prophetic, poetic ending. We don’t get that here at the end of Numbers. Perhaps that’s why the editors did include Deuteronomy. As we conclude this book, I want to hear your thoughts on whether these parashot are a satisfying conclusion of Numbers for you. What do you think the Israelites need to hear and/or do at this point in their journey? What does it mean to end a period of wandering and to transition into a more settled life in the Land, where the expectation is that we will be here for generations – perhaps even forever? How would it actually feel to be one of this new generation of Israelites, who never knew Egypt, who have only known the wilderness, looking over the steppes of Moab toward Jericho? Are we eager? Afraid? What do we imagine our relationship with God will be like once we cross over? How would you end this book?

Scrollers Preview - Parashat Balak

Scrollers Preview Parashat Balak Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg July 7, 2012 This week we mostly take a break from the Israelites’ constant misbehavior, although it returns with a vengeance at the very end of the parasha. This parasha mostly provides some comic relief, as we get to watch a foreign king and a foreign prophet, Balak and Balaam, make a fools of themselves. Here, we receive some much-needed comfort and assurance, that despite all of our rebellious tendencies, God still wants to bless and protect our People. This message is delivered in the form of what feels like a folk tale or a parody (or both!) Asses speak, prophets are blind, and our enemies cannot help themselves from blessing us. Here is a brief overview of the story: Balak, a king of the Moabites, enemies of the Israelites, sees our people camping out nearby and is frightened by how numerous we are – a horde! He sends for a prophet Balaam to curse the Israelites as a way to weaken them and assure the Moabites victory in battle. God (our God, YHVH) tells Balaam that he will only be allowed to speak the words that God puts in his mouth. Then we have a delightful scene with Balaam and his she-ass. The ass sees an angel with a sword standing in the way, but Balaam can’t see it. The ass swerves three times, Balaam beats her, and finally the ass actually speaks. She berates him for beating up on him. God then opens Balaam’s eyes, and he understands the ass’ behavior. The climax of this episode is a series of attempts by Balaam to curse Israel. Each time Balak brings Balaam to a new vantage point to view Israel from a different angle; each time Balak offers up very expensive burnt offerings; and each time, Balaam pronounces blessings instead of curses. Balak and Balaam then go their separate ways. The parashah ends with a theme which continues next week – that of the Israelites whoring after the Moabite women and their gods. Here we go again, rebelling…that comic relief didn’t last too long. On these beautiful days of summer, I feel especially a sense of grace – that I’m being blessed whether or not I deserve it. Perhaps we can simply enjoy this humorous story this week. And we can ask whether this story is here to introduce a sense of God’s compassion in the midst of the predominantly harsh episodes of the wilderness.

Scrollers Preview - Parashat Bamidbar

Scrollers Preview Bamidbar May 26, 2012 Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg In the Women’s Torah Commentary, Rachel Havrelock writes about Bamidbar: Although the scrupulous detail of this parasha and other parts of the book may not immediately grip the reader, the underlying idea is that the ordering of the community – and by extension, one’s life – creates the space for encounters with the Divine. The power of this book emerges from the image of the encampment’s concentric rectangles radiating inward to a core of supreme holiness. In this geometry of moving from the periphery to the center, the tribes encamp around the Levites, who encircle the high priestly family, who surround the Tabernacle’s curtained walls that enclose the court that buffers the Holy of Holies. This symmetry –constructed on the ground as well as in prose – is a collective act of ordering chaos that emulates the creation of the world in Genesis 1:1-2:4. In her introductory essay, Havrelok notes tension throughout the book of Numbers “between order and chaos, culture and nature, obedience and rebellion.” In this opening parasha of Numbers, the military census and the instructions for how the tribes will encamp around the Tabernacle set up an expectation of order, containment and symmetry. But the book is full of Israelites getting out of hand and overstepping boundaries. This tension leads me to ask – is it true that boundaries and order create the space for meeting the Divine, as Havrelock posits? Can we meet God in the chaos? What role does the Divine have in the rebellions themselves? What is the message of all of this order when the rest of the book is all about people overthrowing that order? We will also read the Hosea passage chosen for the Haftarah this week. This passage represents the paradigmatic use of the metaphor of God and Israel as husband and wife. And of course, the wife oversteps the bounds of the marriage and whores with other men (gods.) Here too, there is order and chaos. Looking forward to wrestling with the text with you tomorrow morning! Shabbat Shalom, Rachel

Parashat B'har-B'chukotai

Holy Scrollers Preview Parashat B’har- B’chukotai Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg We conclude the book of Leviticus this week with a double parasha. The first parasha, B’har, lays out the laws concerning the sabbatical and the jubilee year – periods where we are commanded to let the land lie fallow. It also includes laws about how to treat a kinsman who is “in straits,” providing a kind of social safety net for those who fall on hard times. One theme that permeates this parasha is that of “security.” We are assured that if we follow these laws, we will dwell securely in the land. What does it really mean to have a sense of security, and what does leaving the land fallow have to do with it? Where does security actually come from – defensive walls? Strong armies? Owning land? The parasha seems to provide a counterintuitive answer to this question: “ . . . for the land is Mine; you are but strangers resident with Me” (25:23). The second parasha, B’chukotai, lays out a vision of destruction and horror – the curses that would befall the Israelites if they did not adhere to the covenant and follow the laws. These curses seem to be specifically linked to the laws of the sabbatical and jubilee. If we disobey those laws, then God throws us off the land so that the land can recover the lost years of sabbatical that we did not provide for it. The principles that are meant to keep us secure (letting the land lie fallow, creating a safety net for the community) are thrown upside down in these curses – the land will not give its fruit, we will be exiled from the land, and our community will be dispersed. Again – what is the Torah telling us about where true security lies?

Scrollers Preview - Vayahkhel Pikudei

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March 17, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg

After all of the upheaval in last week’s Torah portion, after the Israelites created an idol for themselves and God punished thousands of them with death by sword and plague, after God had pledged to remove God’s presence from the midst of the Israelites, here is how this week’s double portion ends:

When Moses had finished the work, the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud had settled upon it and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. When the cloud lifted form the Tabernacle, the Israelites would set out, on their various journeys; but if the cloud did not lift, they would not set out until such time as it did lift. For over the Tabernacle a cloud of the Lord rested by day, and fire would appear in it by night, in the view of all the house of Israel throughout their journeys.

The bulk of these two parashot – Vayakhel and Pikudei – is taken up with the detailed description of the fashioning and assemblage of the various parts and pieces of the Mishkan (Tabernacle). The second parasha in the pair accounts for every part and piece of the tent, every jewel in the breastplate. And the last chapter describes Moses setting everything up.

Imagine what it might have felt like, after the enormous mess with the Golden Calf, to methodically construct a home for God, according to God’s instructions. And then, to watch as God’s Presence comes to rest in that place. What was it like to be the people in this moment? What was it like to be Bezalel and Oholiab, the skilled artisans? What was it like to be Moses? How about Aaron, who facilitated the idol worship and knows that very soon he will take the position of High Priest?

As they sewed and sawed, casted metal and wove fabric, what was going through everyone’s minds? Did they believe that God really would stick with them and come to dwell in this place? Was there a feeling of desperation? Shame? Guilt?

What does it feel like to be forgiven?

Scrollers Preview - Parashat Ki Tissa

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Parashat Ki Tissa
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg


Only a few weeks ago, at the foot of Mount Sinai, the Israelites entered into a covenant with God, a marriage of sorts. God delivered the ketubah (wedding contract) to Moses in the form of two stone tablets, inscribed on both sides with the terms of the covenant. This is how we will affirm and re-affirm our love, our devotion to God – by keeping the terms of this covenant. A couple of lines down on the first side of the first tablet, we find the prohibition against worshipping any concrete image.

This week’s Torah portion opens with God completing the inscription on the tablets. Moses is about to descend the mountain, in his hands, the two “stone tablets inscribed with the finger of God.” The Hebrew verb used for God’s “finishing” of this inscription is “kalloto.” The Midrash connects this word to the Hebrew word for “his bride,” or “kallato,” suggesting that the tablets represent the solemnizing of the marriage between God and the Israelites, represented by Moses.

In that moment of completion, God tells Moses to hurry down, because the people have made themselves a molten calf and bowed low to it and sacrificed to it, saying: “This is your god, O Israel. . .” It didn’t take long for the people to go from wedding to betrayal.

As we know, Moses sees the pagan celebration at the foot of the mountain, and he smashes the tablets. He also sends the Levites among the people to slay thousands of people. Then he makes his way back up the mountain, hoping to “win forgiveness” for the Israelites’ sin. God does not forgive everyone. God sends a plague to kill those who are guilty of the idol worship, but God does not wipe everyone out. God then declares that God will no longer walk in the midst of the people.

As I read the parasha this year, what amazed me most is that Moses manages to persuade God to change God’s mind and to continue to walk with the people. My question for all of us this week is, why?

Scrollers preview for 3/3/12 - Parashat Tetzaveh

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Parashat Tetzaveh
March 3, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg

This week in Parashat Tetzaveh, we continue with the instructions for creating a sacred space among the Israelites for God’s Presence to dwell. Last week we received the instructions for the Mishkan, or Tabernacle. This week, the institution of the priesthood is created, and we receive the instructions for their garments.

The scholar Nahum Sarna writes in the JPS commentary, “Just as sacred space must be differentiated from profance space, so the occupants of the sacred office must be distinguishable from the laity. Hence, special attire, the insignia of office, is ordained for Aaron, the archetypal High Priest, and for his sons, the priests of lower rank.” As we read this section about the priestly vestments, we will not only dive into many details of colors of wool and linen, hems and fringes. We will also come across words such as “l’chavod u’l’tif’aret,” “for dignity and beauty.” We will learn that the High Priest carries the names of the tribes, inscribed on stones, on his shoulders and over his heart, “l’zikaron,” “for remembrance.” The Torah spends so much time on these outfits for a reason – the vestments transform the regular people of Aaron and his sons into walking symbols.

There is a wonderful book read by many rabbinical students these days called The Rabbi as Symbolic Exemplar: By the Power Vested in Me, by Rabbi Jack Bloom (from Connecticut, by the way!) In this book, Bloom examines how the symbolic role that serves as the source of the rabbi’s authority and power can lead to disillusionment and disenchantment. It details how symbolic exemplarhood is created, what its downside is, what power it offers, how it can be used effectively, how rabbis and other clergy can deal with their inner lives, and what can be done to help them stay “human” while maintaining their leadership.

I recently spoke with Lizz Goldstein, a rabbinical student who grew up at CBSRZ. She interviewed me about this notion of the rabbi as “symbolic examplar.” It was fascinating for me to reflect on how the symbolic power of my role can be used effectively and how it can sometimes get in the way of folks relating to me as “human.” Is this what God intended for the priests? What are the upsides and downsides for the priests of being these walking symbols, and what are the upsides and downsides for the people? Do we need to have symbolic exemplars, whether priests of rabbis? Is it possible to create a sacred community without leaders with “power vested in them”?

On this Shabbat that anticipates Purim, I look forward to investigating the power of the costumed professional!