Parashat HaShuvah - Matot-Masei - "Family Ties - Why they Matter." Numbers 32:2-36:13. Haftarah, Jeremiah 2:4-28, 3:4

 

I was born and raised in the Fairfax section of Los Angeles.  Fairfax back then was full of many Jews who came over from Europe after WWII, and when you walked down the street there were many open markets selling an array of things, kosher restaurants and the like.  While Fairfax has changed over the years, perhaps it is best known for Canter's Delicatessen, which is still there today and always busy.  I also recall going to a Jewish preschool, and it seemed like everyone I knew was Jewish, but I will also tell you what I miss about that time.  Our block, Lindenhurst Ave., was full of families with kids my age, kids who I played basketball with, watched cartoons and rode our bikes together.  It was a time that as I got older I looked back at with foundress, but also appreciation.  

Life is not the same today, and although there still are Jewish neighborhoods, like Pico-Robertson in Los Angeles or parts of Brooklyn in New York, those tight knit communities are not like they used to be.  Part of the reason has to do with how Jewish people moved into the suburbs and scattered.  When we moved as Jew’s perhaps we moved onto a block with other Jewish families or maybe we were the only Jew’s on the block, no longer gathering at the local synagogue for some community event or a B'nai MItzvah, not to mention that something that was a ten minute walk turned into a 45 min drive.  I think for those reasons (and others), my need to recapture that community feeling became something that was more intentional, and just not natural.  While not exactly alike, we see this sense of intentionally in this week's Torah reading, Parashat Matot-Masei.

Matot-Masei are read together and conclude Israel's story of wandering in the wilderness (Deuteronomy reflects the teachings they received while encamped on the eastern side of the Jordan River just before crossing into Canaan).  While Masei is a recap of the 40 year journey itself, Matot addresses the tribes (matot, in Hebrew) to remind them that like a personal family unit, the tribes of Israel/the Jewish people are also a family regardless of size, purpose or influence, Priest or Levite.  As such the primary message of Numbers was (and is) about “unity,” and whether with the spies or with the followers of Korach, when that unity was broken there were consequences.  This is why Moses gets mad at the tribes of Gad and Reuven, who basically said they were happy with the land east of the Jordan and did not care to go into Canaan itself.  Moses basically said, how can you do that to your family?  How can you turn your back on their needs and separate from the rest of us?  The Sfrono (16th century Italian Rabbi) sums it up when he teaches, “what is the point in your undermining the resolution and morale of your brethren? You are repeating what the spies in the last generation did!”

When the people of Gad and Reuven heard this, they got it.  In this case because of their connection to the rest of the people, once they secured their personal families and possessions, they enter the land with the rest of the tribes and say,  “we will not return to our homes until the Israelites — every one of them — are in possession of their portion“ (Num. 32:18).  While it is true Gad and Reuven can say “we have already received it (our inheritance) on the eastern side of the Jordan” (Rashi on 32:19), Gad and Reuven also understood that their tribes inheritance was only fully valid when the rest of Israel inherited their portions in the land of Canaan also.

The tribes of Israel all grew up in the same neighborhood, lived on the same block and attended the same school and place of worship.  That is what I recall when I think back to my early days in the Fairfax section of Los Angeles.  What made it intentional later in life is I had to look for Jewish community events, connecting with Jewish causes or going to synagogue functions and the like.  Likewise, no longer could I just walk into the store on the corner with a wall dedicated to advertising what was happening in the neighborhood and/or greater community.  But today people ask why be a part of a synagogue anyway as my kids have had a B’nai Mitzvah, dues are too high, I rarely see anyone or my synagogue is not as welcoming as it used to be. Further questioning, understandably, the effort to be involved. Does it matter or does it meet my personal needs and identify? It is not as clear as it once was if it is the right place, even asking if Jewish life works anymore as new life needs and wants have risen.  It's a choice, since it is intentional, that much is true.  

Israel's story of wandering in the wilderness ended with a reminder that they're all family even if their personal lives took a different path, but also that their future success and being was based on that same sense of relationship. That is no different today, and while I think that our community may see things differently, I also have to ask has the breakdown of community been a loss? I know I have said it before, and I will most likely keep saying it as I believe it to be true, but October 7th was both a lesson and a wakeup call to be unified both as Jews and Jewish communities.  This Torah teaching email goes out not only on the 300th day that our hostages remain in Gaza, but that this war continues. I hope all of us in our own way hear the message of Matot-Masei that reminds us: no matter what our individual family units look like, or how imperfect people may be, as Jewish communities worldwide our individual/family concerns are not just our own, and visa versa. How much does the breakdown of family mean?  How much does the breakdown of the Jewish community connection matter?  Those are questions that I think each of us need to answer. 

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky       

Parashat HaShuvah - B'chukotai - "The Laws of God as a Mirror of Inner Self-reflection." Leviticus 26:3-27:24 Haftarah, Jeremiah 16:19-17:14

 

The final parasha in Leviticus, B’chukotai meaning “ my laws,” is only read separately from Behar during leap years.  B’chukotai is about keeping the laws of God, beginning with glowing rewards if they are kept, to be followed by negative consequences if they are not. This parasha, and the book, ends with the sanctity of human gifts to God in terms of Temple tax, animals for sacrifice and their value if redeemed since all what is given is now the property of God (Talmud, Bava Kamma 69b).  But is this section not flawed to the modern mind?   What does doing the right thing, in this case keeping the ways of God have to do with the assurance of rain, or if not kept the miscarriage of a pregnant woman?  Does this mean that God’s willingness to bless Israel was solely conditional?  They did for sure, and maybe if we think cause and effect - even if not the same - it is likewise today?

 

What does it mean in the opening verse of B’chukotai, Leviticus 26:3 that says,  “If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments?”  According to the Sifra, an earlier Midrash on Leviticus, it means that “the Holy One … yearns that Israel toil in Torah [thus per Psalm 81:14-15] if My people heeded Me, that Israel walked in My ways!’ [Isaiah 18:19 saying their] peace would be like a river and your righteousness like the waves of the sea [keeping] all My mitzvot all the days, so that it be good for them and for their children forever."  The Midrash teaches that we must busy ourselves to learn and live according to the ways of Torah in order to have life's riches guide our paths that we then pass down to our children, ways which pave the way of life upon the roads of peace and success.  Okay, but what does that exactly mean? 

 

Rebecca Goldstein, a teacher of Philosophy, wrote about the difference between "Jewish Secularism vs. Secular Jewishness." Simply “Jewish Secularism” is a matter of “sociology,” you engage in non-religious activity such as reading The Wall Street Journal, watching FOX news or CNN, going to a Baseball game, taking in a movie, all while being faithful to Torah. “Secular Jewishness” is about continuity and discontinuity with Jewish values and practices, something Goldstein would say is “an outlook, a platform, a code of behavior.” As such Goldstein further says that Secular Jewishness “is not a religion per se but it has something in common with religion, namely what philosophers call normativity, meaning that secular Jewishness makes certain claims concerning human values, the kind of life it is good to lead, the kind of life that one ought to lead.” In this case “Secular Jewishness” upholds a commitment to “the Jewish values” that resonate with a larger platform that is driven by a “secular worldview” (meaning non-religious).  This is part of a much larger discussion on sociology and religion. 

 

What about the laws then? The problem with the Law is we read them as rules as opposed to reflections of what is holy and good. If we see Jewish law in the backdrop of what Rebecca Goldstein calls “Secular Jewishness,” while a working theory of life, it is not necessarily connected with our "divine image" that propels our holy spark within.  This of course presumes the belief that we are spiritually in relationship to our greater sense of self and God that powers us to do what we do in terms of our practices from Shabbat to the holidays, b'nai mitzvot to social action, or even just to be part of a community of like thought, traditions and practices, values, ethics or what have you. Still, it must be pointed out that these very same practices emerge from the laws of God that “Secular Jewishness” calls good life theories clothed in Jewish culture.  Law in Torah is more than a system of religious practice, it is a road-map to our inner human world.  

 

Imagine that world with me where we ”do not turn to idols or make molten gods for yourselves,” meaning we avoid the idols of greed or class distinctions, treating all with justice, thus “You shall not render an unfair decision: do not favor the poor or show deference to the rich.”  What might the world look like if we do “not hate our kinsfolk in our heart,” or to that end do “not take vengeance or bear a grudge against members of our people,” reminding us to “Love your fellow [Israelite] as yourself,” as well as to those who are not like us (non-Jews in context), “you shall love each one as yourself, for you have been strangers,” or outsiders. From the perspective of Torah law reflects our inner holiness and sense of goodness as opposed to rules that many have come to see as antiquated or unnecessary although Jewish culture is still embraced in one way or the other.  Modern minds or not, perhaps if we follow the laws as reflections of the yearning of our inner beings we will experience a world that looks very different than the one we see around us, or find peace and/or success, even though it might not look how we thought.  The Laws of God might not not change the world, but it will change us within it. 

 

And the end of a book of Torah we say, chazak, chazak, v'nitchazeik, may we "Be strong, be strong, and we will strengthen one another" as we learn and grow together.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky

Parashat HaShuvah - Kedoshim - "From the River to the Sea." Leviticus 19:1-20:27, Haftarah, Amos 9:7-15

Oh no, you misunderstand!  “From the River to the Sea '' has to do with the Mississippi River to either the Pacific or Atlantic oceans.  From the river to sea (you choose what direction) we are in the midst, as we know, of a serious problem on our college campuses.  Imagine with me for just a moment a place where people of different religious and political views would sit down together on those same campuses to seek a mutual outcome of goodness as they listen and understand each other.  Okay, I guess you can see me as optimistic, delusional or simply just naive?  I see myself as optimistic because I believe that love is greater than hate, mutual benefit is greater than selfishness, and the answer always begins with loving our fellow person even when others turn their back on that same love. 

In this week's parasha, Kedoshim, we read the well known verse that says, kedoshim t’yu ki kadosh ani adonai elohaychem, “You shall be holy, for I, your God, am holy.” Case and point, the Torah does not call us to be good, honorable or worthy - although that is implied in the mitzvot - but to be holy.  In Acharei Mot it concluded with Laws about sexual relationships and the collective sins of Israel in what became the Yom Kippur service today. As such Rabbi Ayeh ben David writes that while  Acharei Mot established “the essential minimal boundaries for acceptable social behavior … Kedoshim will attempt to advance this standard (of behavior) to higher and more profound levels.”  This happens when an act of holiness emerges from our soul-based traits, or middot, which manifests in behavior.  But “holiness” is not a theological word like the Christian word “sanctification,” where a person is sealed by the Holy Spirit, more so than holiness is a sought after level of humanity that is consistent with the ways of Torah to reflect our inner holy spark in connection to God.

One of those key behaviors of Kedoshim is love. We read in Leviticus 19:17, “You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart,” followed by the words in 19:18, “Love your neighbor [here fellow Jew in context] as yourself.”  Still, the Torah makes it clear in 19:34 that such love expands to all humans (Jew and non-Jew alike) outside of our community circles (different religions, etc), teaching “The strangers who reside with you shall be to you as your citizens; you shall love each one as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”  In Judaism we have another tradition of love called “Ahavat Yisrael,” which means “love for another Jew” but also means the support of the state of Israel.  The middah (soul-trait) of love toward others begins with the middah of Ohev et HaMakom, or loving God.  This type of love is found in the “One who loves God occupies themselves with the Divine's most valuable treasure. Diligent study of Torah is therefore an expression of a love for God. Through study, one learns to recognize the Godly path and express one's love of God by emulating God's ways."  Simply put, love for God is love for the ways of God (think V'ahavta) that underscores how we love, and therefore, treat others.

Being Holy, per Rashi, is to adhere to the commands regarding eating or personal behaviors (see Acharei Mot) whereas for Nachmanides even doing those things (per Rashi) can not stop someone from loathsome behavior.  Again, in response Rabbi Ayeh ben David writes that “the challenge of becoming holy is reflected is the exertion of self-control precisely within the guidelines of Torah.” Notice the word exertion, a word that means effort not only physically but mentally. This reminds me of the question in Pirkei Avot “Who is mighty? He who subdues his [evil] inclination.”  Subduing what is wrong takes physical and mental exertion, but doing what is right, thus loving others we are in conflict with, takes even more physical and mental exertion.

In closing I’d like to share a thought from Rabbi Elisha Wolfin.  When it is said in Kedoshim, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” Rabbi Wolfin takes issue with the translation “your neighbor” because it is to narrow and misleading,  Here לרעך (l’ray’ah’cha) is the root רע (rah) that can also mean wicked or bad.  For Wolfin the one who receives love or hate is not just a neighbor or a friend but is the “ultimate other who is everything that is not I,” whereas the one who loves, or hates, “is actually a projection (of self) onto another.”  If the students on our college campuses, in particular those who directly or indirectly engage in Anti-semitism or Islamophobia, projected love - which is holy - on “the other” as opposed to hate, then maybe we might see a shared mutual outcome from the river to the sea.  Naive, maybe, hopeful, absolutely - I'll take that everyday.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky                  

Parashat HaShuvah - Acharei Mot - "We must be Mindful of our Responses." Leviticus 16:1-18:30, Haftarah, Ezekiel 22:1-19

I am conflicted as I read this week's parasha, Acharei Mot.  This is the parasha where we find the basis for our modern day Yom Kippur service and begins an important part of Torah called the Holiness Code that is about ethical human conduct in every aspect of life.  Yet, I am just as concerned with what we are witnessing on our college and university campuses, not only here in Texas, but elsewhere throughout the country.  As Jews and a Jewish community we need to be in the know, but also know that how we respond is just as crucial. 

In Los Angeles, at UCLA, a Jewish student there named Gaby said, “I myself have been bullied and harassed online … I know people that have been involved in physical altercations.”  Putting the physical attacks aside, the well documented words spoken against Jewish students are said to be justified as free speech, reflecting the current debate on campuses surrounding the 1st amendment.  As such, the head of the American Jewish Committee in New York said that “we celebrate free speech,” which is an American constitutional right.  Yet he also said,  “but when the debate that’s taking place results in the intimidation and harassment and silencing of one party, there is not free speech for everyone.”  Still, a NYC official said in disagreement, “Columbia should not be calling the cops on its own students for engaging in nonviolent protest.”  Are words that incite hate and disrespect others a “nonviolent protest.”  The teachings of Judaism would say no. In fact Judaism would say that while diversity of thought includes disagreement, words such as “we want Jewish genocide” should not be protected by the label of free speech. It is not “free speech” if it becomes an existential threat to another's freedom. 

Reuters reports that “The demonstrations across the country have been met with counter-protesters accusing them of fomenting anti-Jewish hatred. The pro-Palestinian side, including Jews opposed to Israeli actions in Gaza, say they are being unfairly branded as antisemitic for criticizing Israel's government and expressing support for human rights.”  That is fine, protesting a conviction is the American way even if others do not agree. It is also perfectly allowable to call out a government you disagree with.  But Jews, and non-Jews, who are “branded as antisemitic” has more to do with associating with or agreeing, chas v’chalilah (God forbid), with those same people who call for Jewish genocide.  As a Jew, I am unable to support even other Jews who call for the deaths of Arabs (or anyone) who do not fit a Jewish world view (war is another conversation).  As a person who values human life,  how can there be a call for Jewish deaths?  Unfortunately, this is what we are dealing with, but thank God the American Jewish, and even Christian support for Israel, is strong.

Back to Torah. In this week's parasha we read in Leviticus 17:10, “And if anyone of the house of Israel or of the strangers who reside among them partakes of any blood, I will set My face against the person who partakes of the blood; I will cut that person off from among kin.”  Robert Alter in his commentary states, to which I agree, that this is about a person, a human life, as opposed to being about Kosher issues (see Rashi for example).  Nadav and Avihu, back in Leviticus 10, brought “strange fire” into the tent of meeting and died.  The reason, while many, is because they elected to do what was wrong and suffered for it.  Aaron, the High Priest, in this week's parasha is told there is a right way to enter the Holy Place in contrast to Nadav and Avihu.  The way we go about things matters. How we demonstrate makes a difference.  The words we use are important. 

If so then obviously It is wrong to allow hate to exist and call for the death of Jews.  Yet It is wrong to actively seek revenge and respond in a hateful way as a Jewish community.  It is wrong to think a conviction to oppose Israel makes Jewish lives unworthy.  Yet it is just as wrong to respond in like fashion and let that type of thinking have ownership over the the Jewish worldview.  When we fight anti-Jewish hate or the antisemitism that is in front us, go and take part in a pro–Israel rally or support your Federation, use your voice to celebrate all life, Jewish or not!  But unlike Nadav and Avihu who did not consider the results of their actions, we must be mindful of our responses. Likewise our fight, like Aaron the High Priest who entered the Holy place, has to have life-affirming rules of engagement. Per the Holiness Code, we must be led by the ethical human conduct that respects others who disagree, although we must always oppose hate.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky    

Parashat HaShuvah - Torah Reading for Shabbat Passover - "Passover Musings - the Messy Middle." Exodus 33:12-34:26, Haftarah, Ezekiel 37:1-14

 I hope everyone had meaningful Seders this year!  This week for the Shabbat of Passover we have a special Torah reading that reminds the listener that God made a covenant with the Jewish people rooted in the Torah to include our holidays.  In that reading we find a well known passage (we read it during the High Holidays) about the characteristics of God who is "compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin.” During the week of Passover (and Sukkot) when we reflect on God’s characteristics we are asked to reflect on our own. The freedom that we recall during Passover is a characteristic of God, and therefore us as well.

Rabbi Abraham Cook, who was the founder of the modern Chief Rabbinate of Israel, teaches that each of us during Passover is to recall, or rediscover, our own freedom within. Thus Rav Cook writes, “What makes us truly free? When we are able to be faithful to our inner self, to the truth of our Divine image - then we can live a fulfilled life focused on the soul's inner goal.” Passover is just not a time to remember the freedom of the slaves of old and Jewish history, although it tells us about our past, but it speaks to our today also.  On the Seder plate we have two places for bitter herbs, Maror (מרור) and Chazeret (חזרת). Both tell the story that “the experience of the Jewish people’s slavery in Egypt, which was not initiated all at once, but rather conducted gradually and so grew progressively more bitter.” But the ongoing bitterness of slavery is generational, meaning that while most people today have not been physical slaves in Egypt (or the Shoah), we all suffer because of the effects of racism and antisemitism, lack of rights for minorities, women and the LGBTQ+ community.  There is fallout from the political polarization in this country that continues to divide people, the bitterness of disinformation and balanced reporting, pain and suffering from illness and disease, abuse of power and position and the list can go on.  Bitterness is not a one time thing but lingers. We can also become captive to the bitterness that has the power to engulf, and therefore, enslave us. That is part of the story too. 
 
Today we are suffering the bitterness of the evil of Hamas and its aftermath. I began my Seders this year by saying (as I am sure many of you did as well) that this is no ordinary year, we have families and friends who are being held captive right now in Gaza, although we continue to say l’olam lo shuv, never again. I recently read words by Rabbi Marc Katz of Temple Ner Tamid in Bloomfield, New Jersey who has called the situation for us Jews (and Jewish communities) in Gaza a “messy middle.” It's a “messy middle” because this is not black and white as Rabbi Katz further wrote that as people we “can hold a lot of things at once, and you can feel for the Palestinian people, you can feel for the Israeli people. Compassion is not a zero-sum game.”  The Rabbi is saying that the “messy middle” reflects that many Jews in Israel and around the world do not want to fight, do not want to see innocent people on either side suffer or die, and want to see both Jew and Arab raise their children and families freely without threat. Yet they also see the need to fight the evil of Hamas that must be destroyed while knowing the world criticizes Israel and more innocent people will have to die in order to secure Jewish and Arab freedom so two people can live side by side. The Jews in Goshen were the same; they just wanted to live in peace, yet innocent people (Jews and innocent Egyptians) had to die in the process.  Today we have a new battle that rages, the battle for our Jewish and Israel supporting young people who are entering the university system. This battle is fighting for the right to walk on campus in safety, to learn and voice opinion without fear, to stand up to antisemitism, but also islamophobia.  Seeking a win-win is truly hard for all, hence a "zero-sum game," but evil must be eradicated and people freed.

Last week I mentioned the words of the Abarbanel, who wrote, “By spilling a drop of wine from the Pesach cup for each plague, we acknowledge that our own joy is lessened and incomplete, for our redemption had to come by means of the punishment of other human beings. Even though these are just punishments for evil acts, it says, “Do not rejoice at the fall of your enemy” (Proverbs 24:17).”  Our sense of compassion can be compromised by the chametz (leaven) of anger, or even hate, one sided justice, fear and grave disappointment.  What does chametz have to do with this?  Again calling on Rav Cook he teaches that the “leavening agent” (chametz)  that makes “dough rise” is added to change the doughs “natural shape and characteristics.”  As humans we must seek out what is natural shape in order “to be faithful to our Divine image.”  The chametz of anger and fear (etc.) can also change our “natural shape and characteristics” of love and compassion both for friend and foe.  When we recall the plagues we recall those who died for Israel's freedom from slavery, yet we are never to rejoice that their freedom came and the expense of an Egyptian life, no matter how evil.  The "messy middle" says be angry at evil but do not rejoice at the death of a life, even of an enemy. 

According to our Divine Image we have the middah (characteristic) of rachmones, or mercy, compassion, forgiveness and empathy (reflecting God's character above).  The Passover story is challenging us to live in the “messy middle” in order to hold true to our truths and have compassion for those who do not. When we rid our lives of the chametz that gets in the way of such a lofty goal, then per the words of Rav Cook, we are truly free.

Shabbat Shalom and Moadim L'Simcha,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

Parashat HaShuvah - Metzoa - "Verbal Purity at Passover." Leviticus 14:1-15:33, Haftarah, Malachai 3:4-24

When we recount the plagues during our upcoming Seders we are not to be gleeful when recalling those who tried to keep the Jews captive and suffered even unto death.  Our posture is not to be: they tried to kill us, we won, let’s eat, no. no no.  In fact the Abarbanel (a-bar-ba-nel, 15th century Rabbi) wrote, “By spilling a drop of wine from the Pesach cup for each plague, we acknowledge that our own joy is lessened and incomplete, for our redemption had to come by means of the punishment of other human beings. Even though these are just punishments for evil acts, it says, “Do not rejoice at the fall of your enemy” (Proverbs 24:17).”

When Israel sang after they crossed the sea the words of Shirat Hayam (the song of the sea from Exodus 15, where Michamocha comes from) their focus was to be on the freedom gained, not the destruction of enemies who drowned.  This is found in our Seder when we sing “Avadim Hayinu,” we were slaves, now we sing songs of praise, not for the death of enemies, but because we are free!  We read in the Talmud (Sanhedrin 39b) that God is said to have rebuked the angels for celebrating after the drowning of the Egyptians, a lesson that Judaism as long taught applies to us, hence the words of the Abarbanel above.

This week's parasha, Metzora, like last week’s Tazria, speaks of afflictions that have been connected to Lashon hara, or evil speech.  Speech obviously comes from our mouth, rooted in the intentions of our hearts and minds, thus out of our mouth comes words of compassion or words designed to hurt and even hate.  The book of Mishlei (Proverbs) captures both.  Words that are affirming and compassionate are “Pleasant words that are like a honeycomb, Sweet to the palate and a cure for the body” (Prov. 16:24). Yet regarding words designed to hurt others, words of anger and hate we also read in Mishlei, “More had fallen by the tongue than had fallen by the edge of the sword” (Prov. 27:18).

Last Shabbat I mentioned how almost everything we do is preceded by brachot (blessings), 91 in total between the three times of prayer per day alone, but also prayers over food, drink, study, be wonderment of creation (like with the eclipse), human uniqueness, healthy bodies and so on. The purpose of the brachot are to speak holiness and goodness into our daily activities, albeit the mundane and the sacred alike, activities that include the words that come from our mouth (verbal and by image both convey messages). Interestingly, regarding the brachot, there is none that we say before we speak.  I reached out to a colleague who shared his thoughts on the matter, suggesting words from the daily Amidah (I thought the same) that say, “You (God) favor humans with perception and teach understanding. Grant us knowledge, understanding and intellect from You.”  In other words, we have all the intellectual ingredients within us to direct our speech and choose to make it holy, or not, before the words even leave our mouth.

Today, it seems like people often use their words for harm. This will get me in trouble with someone I am sure,  but all the posted satire that we see online about political figures or what have you, for Judaism, falls into the category of Lashon hara, a true metzora (affliction) because they create a negative image to damage another.  According to teachings of Judaism it is not about whether it is true (lashon hara does not mean a lie), but it is about the intent to do harm.  Let's bring this back to Passover. There is a kabbalistic teaching that says that the word Pharaoh (פַּרְעֹ֑ה), can also spell “פה רע” (peh rah), which means  “evil mouth.”  Pharaoh according to Zohar (III, 205b) is the very illustration of the "the evil tongue", i.e. slander, a gross misuse of the power of speech and the like.  Pharaoh treated those who he felt were inferior to him in harmful ways, he did not have compassion on human life in general.  His words were meant only for harm and self affirmation. We learn from this that our words must be the opposite.

Therefore we too have the power of speech, speech that we are to use to verbalize our compassion on our enemies who wrong us, even if they don't deserve it (yes hard to do).  In fact the Chofetz Chaim, who writes extensively of proper speech, would teach that the lack of verbal compassion is a form of Lashon Hara.  We are being asked during our Seders to give thanks for our shared freedoms, and to celebrate our diversity and common humanity.  I heard it said that diversity is not about uniformity but harmony.  Living in harmony with others is about being okay and tolerant with others who we may not agree with, allowing our speech to be celebratory of our human journeys and not the differences that separate us.  Yet the Seder also asks us to have compassion on our enemies, those who seek to harm us, which is why we recite the plagues and the story of the sea out loud. May we never lose our compassion and words of mercy for those who seek to impose barriers on our freedoms.  The Pharaoh’s of this world will have their day of reckoning, we can bet on that, yet we must not lose our sense of goodness or compassion on account of them.

Shabbat Shalom and chag pesach sameach,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

Parashat HaShuvah - Tazria - "Measure by Measure." Leviticus 12:1-13:59, Haftarah, 2 Kinds 4:42-5:19

We live in a world of words.  Speaking words is a big deal in Judaism. I’d like to focus on two outstanding issues regarding words that we hear everyday. The first is our march toward the November elections.  While my intention here is not to pick sides, what I will say is that most of what I hear/read today is not a bipartisan approach to the important issues that we face as Americans. More often what I tend to read is about failed human characteristics and personal attacks.  Beneath such words there can be truth, absolutely, and that must guide us come November. But for Judaism the truth does not get to dictate how words are used if they produce hate inspired words that seek to assassinate another person. The second is the mainstream words of the anti-Israel rhetoric that permeates our news. Is it all lies? No, of course not, but a lot of it is not full-truths either, leaving many people with less than factual information both about the Israel-Gaza war and our own governmental policies toward the Jewish state. So while these points should be an important matter as Jews and Jewish communities, what does this have to do with this week's parasha, Tazria? 

In his book, Shemirat HaLashon, guarding of the tongue, Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan - the Chofetz Chaim (pursuer of life) - writes about what he calls מִדָּה בְּמִדָּה (mida bimedia) or “measure for measure.”  Putting it another way he is talking about the karma of bad deeds that will impact the future which are tied into spoken words.  The Chofetz Chaim connects מִדָּה בְּמִדָּה (or karma) to what our tradition calls Lashon hara, or evil speech. The idea of lashon hara comes from this week's parasha, Tazria, where a skin affliction called a tzaraat is understood to be leprosy, which our tradition interprets as the affliction of the tongue. The Chofetz Chaim intends to show how lashon hara can have an impact not just at that moment but down the road, and he does that by looking at the story of Judah and Joseph.  In this case although Judah stood up for the life of his brother he opted to sell him into slavery instead. As such Judah’s hate was the basis for selling Joseph into slavery and lying to his father about Joseph dying at the hands of an animal.  For the Chofetz Chaim the long term impact of Judah's words were felt much later in the story of Rehoboam, the son of King Solomon, who was a descendant of Judah. In this case Rehoboam was approached by the people who asked him to remove the heavy burden of taxation and other such concerns upon the nation.  Unfortunately, not only did Rehoboam refuse the request, but said that his rule would be harsher than his father King Solomon.  As a result of Rehoboam’s choices Israel was split into the Northern and Southern Kingdom that led to being exiled into Babylon and the destruction of the first temple.  The Chofetz Chaim teaches that the latter was based on Judah’s unwillingness to forgive, which began a chain of events that he calls מִדָּה בְּמִדָּה (measure for measure), in turn creating bad karma for the generations that followed. 

Maimonides in his Mishneh Torah (Human Dispositions 7) writes, “There is a much more serious sin than [gossip] … that is lashon hara.”  Gossip according to Judaism “causes unforeseen negative consequences.''  Although it is normally unintended to be harmful gossip  - hey did you hear about so and so they are having an affair - there is plenty of harm in that statement!  Lashon hara by design is intended to do harm, which is why it is more serious than gossip.  Maimonides therefore also teaches that refraining from lashon hara has a “prohibition relating to deprecating facts about a colleague, even if they are true.”  Lashon hara is just not about words designed to harm the target of those words, but by default, also those who embrace the words of the one who is attacked.  We read in the Talmud (Arachin 15b) a well known teaching about how lashon hara impacts the “one who speaks malicious speech, and the one who accepts the malicious speech when he hears it, and the one about whom the malicious speech is said.”  More than that we also learn in this Talmud that unless lashon hara is “destroyed” it will “kill” even if not a physical death. Lashon hara is never okay, never just a passive thought or a good suggestion to embrace. 

Again, how do the things we hear today impact us as a Jewish community in connection with this parasha?  Remember that the Book of Leviticus is asking a lot of us in terms of our character and behavior, it can be a hard book to digest because of that. Later on we read in Leviticus 19:2, “You shall be holy, for I, your God יהוה, am holy,” but what does that mean?  While I will save that for another time, you can be sure of this one thing: it has everything to do with how we conduct ourselves in life, which very much includes how we use our words. How many families have been torn apart by powerful words of hate and disagreement over today's climate of politics?  What about the misuse of words designed to hurt Israel that have been given the power to create problems, not just now, but for generations to follow who will no longer support Israel because of words that are not true?  Whether about America's attitude toward Israel or the election, I wonder if the Chofetz Chaim would give the same warning, מִדָּה בְּמִדָּה, the karma of our words could have a negative affect tomorrow.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam Ruditsky