Scrollers Preview - Ki Tetzei

Holy Scrollers Preview
Parashat Ki Tetzei: Deuteronomy 21:10-25:19
September 1, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg


This week’s parasha mostly consists of issues between people, whether between neighbors, within a family, between the underprivileged and other members of society, or even between people and animals.

A theme running through many of these laws is that of dignity. Even if we need to take the only garment a person has as a pledge for a loan, we need to return it to that person every night so that her or she may sleep in it. We are not allowed to take someone’s upper millstone in pawn, because that is akin to taking their life (their means of grinding grain for bread or olives for oil.) We must leave the overlooked sheafs and grapes in our fields for the poor and the stranger. These and many other laws in the parasha emphasize people’s humanity and aim for a sense of equality and fair treatment within society.

In addition to these laws, issues pertaining to women are very prominent in this Torah portion. Here, it becomes more challenging to see the theme of dignity and humanity in the laws.
We read that if a woman is found not to be a virgin when she marries, she is stoned to death on her father’s doorstep; that a virgin who is raped is then forced to marry her rapist; that a wife who ceases to please her husband can be given a bill of divorce; and that a woman who is widowed before she has children must marry her husband’s brother.

Most of these laws seek to ensure that women get married and stay married. In the context of a traditional society, adult unmarried women are unprotected and do not have independent means to sustain themselves. And so these laws are meant to protect women. But it is challenging to know how to approach these laws as a modern person and a feminist. We can understand that they are meant to protect women in their context, but this is not satisfying. The text does not acknowledge the actual experience of women who are raped, for instance, and what it might mean for them to have to marry their rapists.

In her essay on this parasha in the Women’s Commentary, Judith Plaskow approaches these laws through a larger theme of the parasha, that of memory. In this parasha, we are told to remember that we were slaves in the land of Egypt, and this is why we are to observe certain commandments concerning how we treat the poor and the widow. We are told to remember what Amalek did to us as we escaped Egypt, attacking us behind, and therefore we are commanded to avenge Amalek and blot out their memory.

But then there are other things that the Torah portion alludes to which we don’t seem to remember very clearly, such as Miriam’s leadership and legacy and the reason for her being stricken with “tzara’at.” And there are yet other things that we aren’t told to remember at all. In Plaskow’s words, “The Torah in this section offers no store of memories of women’s perspectives and experiences that could provide the basis for an alternative ethic.” Meaning, we remember certain things (we were slaves) and those memories obligate us to act according to certain ethical standards. But we don’t remember other things, such as what it might be like to be a rape victim who is forced to marry her rapist.

This points to the ethics of memory itself and raises the question of what we choose to remember and act on and which memories we choose to suppress, and how does that choice affect us, our families, and our communities in the present?

I look forward to exploring this question further with you tomorrow.

Shabbat Shalom

Scrollers Preview - Parashat Shoftim

Scroller Preview
Parashat Shoftim
8/25/12
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg

Shabbat Shalom everyone – I hope you had a good two weeks with your lay leaders!

This week’s Torah portion is called “Shoftim,” which means “judges,” and the main focus of the parasha is justice. In Deuteronomy 16: 20 we have the famous verse, “justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may thrive and occupy the land that the Lord your God is giving you.” According to our Etz Hayyim commentary, “The term ‘pursue’ carries strong connotations of effort, eagerness. This implies more than merely respecting or following justice”; we must actively pursue it.

Most of the parasha consists of legal material, laying out procedures and policies regarding the justice system the Israelites are to implement in the land. We receive instructions regarding placing judges and magistrates in all of our settlements and making sure that they judge justly. The parasha includes laws regarding witnesses, including false witnesses, outlawing bribes, and enforcing verdicts. We also have laws concerning the cities of refuge and how to deal with a corpse of a murder victim that is found in the open with no evidence of who the murderer was.

I recommend reading Elliot Dorff’s excellent essay at the back of our Etz Hayyim commentary entitled “Justice.” There, he lays out the Biblical and then later Rabbinic approach to the concept of justice. We see in Torah a message that in order for us to achieve the justice that God demands, we need to have just procedures in place, and the outcomes of the court and justice systems must be just, moral and good.

But justice goes beyond even procedure and substance. There is also a concept, introduced in Deuteronomy 6:18, that we are required to do “what is right and good in the sight of the Lord.” This has been interpreted by the rabbis as the basis for asserting that we are at times obliged to act “beyond the letter of the law.”

According to Torah, justice is “a divine imperative,” in Dorff’s words. God is the ultimate judge, and we are meant to imitate God. Justice is a foundation stone of holiness itself. The laws of justice are even seen as evidence of God’s love for Israel, and pursuing justice can be a way for humans to come closer to the Divine.

As we study together tomorrow, I look forward to exploring the Torah’s concept of justice, from the procedural to the more philosophical.

Scrollers Preview - Parashat Vaetchanan

Scrollers Preview
Parashat Va-etchanan
August 4, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg

Parashat Va-etchanan is an amazingly rich Torah portion, and it is full of paradox. In it, Moses recalls pleading with God to let him go into the Land and getting the harsh response from God that he should just shut up and stop whining!

Moses also spends a lot of time reminding the people to follow the mitzvot that they are to observe in the land. He reminds them of the awesome experience of Sinai – that this experience should continue to echo in the People’s consciousness, calling them to continue to worship the One God whose voice they heard out of the fire. Moses is quite concerned that the people will be lured to worship other gods.

As part of the remembrance of Sinai, Moses repeats the 10 Commandments. And he frames his exhortation to adhere to the commandments with the powerful, enduring words of the Sh’ma. We are to love YHVH our God with all of ourselves – mind, spirit, and strength.

In the final chapter of this parasha Moses instructs the Israelites to wipe out the 7 nations living in Canaan and to destroy all of their religious places, idols and pillars. This section concludes with another beautiful passage about how God chose us from among the peoples out of love.

As I read the parasha this year I kept feeling like I was on a pendulum, swinging swiftly back and forth from messages of fear and punishment to messages of love and special treatment. We see these contrasts even in a single verse. For instance, the last few verses of the portion read, “Know, therefore, that only the LORD your God is God, the steadfast God who keeps His covenant faithfully to the thousandth generation of those who love Him and keep His commandments, but who instantly requites with destruction those who reject Him.”

This contrast echoes a much larger paradox – that of Moses’ experience of God throughout the Torah. We see again and again in the Torah, Moses appealing to God’s qualities of mercy and compassion and patience, asking God to forgive God’s people. This happens at key moments, for instance after the Golden Calf incident and the incident with the spies. Typically, God kills off some of the Israelites but forgives the People as a whole and allows them to move forward in relationship with God. But ultimately, at the end of the Torah, we have this story that opens our parasha this week – a story of Moses begging God to forgive him, and of God refusing to be moved to forgiveness.

What do we make of these sudden swings from compassion to destruction? What do we make of God’s treatment of Moses? What do we make of a tradition that tells us that God loves us - that asks us to love God with all of ourselves – and which depicts God as quick to punish a person the instant that person turns away?

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?