Parashat Toldot - A Journey of Choice (5 min read)

רפואה מן התורה
Healing from the Torah

     Torah has taught us so far some reoccurring themes (among others). First, mankind is a partner with God in maintaining and repairing the world.  Second, mankind is called into this role despite being flawed, thus being “righteous” means allowing the higher values and wisdom of Torah to be a guide as opposed to being better than one’s neighbor and/or without error.  We have seen this beginning with Adam and it continues this week.  In a world where we have been conditioned to excel, or conversely think we are not good enough, perhaps the theme of the normality of those who partner with God is a message that makes Torah more accessible in support of our spirituality?   This week we are in Parashat Toldot, Genesis 25:18-28:9, where we further learn from the lives of these early men and women who were partners for tikkun in their world.

     Although there are different story lines in Toldot our concern will be the sons of Isaac and Rebekah: Jacob and Esau.  We are told that when they were born Jacob was grasping his brother’s ankle after “crushing” each other within their mother’s womb.  We are also told that Jacob and Esau would represent two “regimes,” two ways of being (Gen. 25:23-26). Upon their birth Rashi wants us to know that although Jacob and Esau had varied interests growing up, as brothers they were also indistinguishable until they were 13, but then their choices were nothing alike in terms of looks, personality and desires.  Rashi further explains that the word crushing (רצץ) is also read as running (רוץ), so the crushing/running that Rebekah experienced foretold of Jacobs’ role as opposed to Esau.  According to that same Midrash the crushing/running happened when Rebekah would walk by the Ark holding the Torah and Jacob would leap in response.  Likewise, when Rebekah walked past a place of iniquity Esau would leap in her womb.  So when we read that Esau was a large hairy man whose passions were hunting for game, and Jacob was a quiet homebody who “dwelt in tents,” our traditions on this text teach that we are learning something about their sense of spirituality.  This is why Rashi further says that Jacob and Esau after 13 took different paths, hence Jacob went to study Torah at Yeshiva, whereas Esau set out for a life of idolatry.

     Let’s not make any mistakes here, Jacob would take advantage of his brother and deceived his father, not good traits.  However, when given the choice, Jacob and Esau responded to life very differently.  We learn that when Abraham died Jacob grieved and mourned the loss of his grandfather by cooking a mourner’s stew (see. Gen. 26:29; also Bava Batra 16b and M. Tanachuma on Gen. 26:29).  Conversely, Esau’s concern was not his grandfather but his need to fill his stomach.  There is nothing wrong with being an outside person, it’s about Esau's choices not his profession or hobby.  Lastly, Rashi makes another interesting observation.  When Esau is born it says, “and they called him” (ויקראו) whereas when Jacob is named it says, “and he called him” (ויקרא).  Esau was red and hairy so all who saw him named him Esau.  Jacob was actually the first born son to be named by his father alone, so perhaps even after Jacob deceived his father, Isaac did not withdrawal his blessing from his younger son but knew what others did not.  Clearly our Rabbi’s believe that Jacob's negative actions did not take away that he was the better choice, because unlike Esau, Jacob cared about the ways of God and choose Torah (See Rashi on Gen. 27:33). 

     Our tradition has taken these two boys/men and has made them into conflicting standards of being.  This is taught in the Mystical tradition that says while Jacob and Esau are direct opposites they are also adjoining siblings, meaning that in order to win a battle one must know who they are fighting.  Still this battle is not one of external foes but internal conflicts and divisions. We can refer back to the Midrash that says Jacob and Esau had differing reasons why they leaped in Rebekah’s womb; one for Torah and the other for iniquity.  That teaching then illuminates why Jacob and Esau would represent two mighty nations that would battle each other, a battle that continues today (cf. Gen. 25:23).    Rabbi Berg uses the example of the ego for both good and bad to make his point.  On its own the good of the ego is required to regulate how we respond.  Hence Freud would teach that the id is the part of the mind that contains human drives and hidden memories and the super-ego controls our moral conscience; the job of the ego mediates between the desires of the id and the super-ego.  When the ego is compromised (for whatever reason) feelings associated with anxiety are experienced and defense mechanisms are employed (think about how Esau responded to his need to be fed). The result can be selfish behavior that seeks too often the wrong solution, even if personally and/or publicly are bad and destructive. The Ego can be both bad and good based on how it is used. 

     Jacob is presented as a good man who first and foremost puts spiritual things before him, but with Esau his darkness was necessary to wage the battle within.  Simple ... maybe ... but I think we all can identify with the battle of good and bad within us?  The scary part of Esau sent his brother Jacob running away from home and therefore can symbolize the relationship, as well as the perceived fierceness, of the battle (or battles) before us or within us.  The thing is that people can spend a lifetime both accepting the fight and finding the means to overcome. We know later that when Jacob eventually meets up again with Esau he realizes that his fear was misplaced as his own battle within turned out better than he might have imagined.  Another take away from this parasha; we are asked to use our spiritual energies for the right things although they can also be hijacked for the wrong reasons.  Our journey within is one of choices. 

Parashat Chayei Sarah - What can be Expected (5 min read)

רפואה מן התורה

Healing from the Torah

     This week we continue to read about a reoccurring theme that is setting up a pattern. The pattern is simple; the Torah is a full of stories about normal people who are celebrated for being righteous.  It was Rabbi Elie Muck who said being “righteous,” is not the same as being “perfect.” In the bible, and our tradition, the God of creation partners with everyday people to bring repair to the world.  With that, Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg in her commentary on Genesis writes, “The Life of Sarah … in a covert sense, Sarah’s life is germinal to the whole reading.  The problem of her life is manifest just at the moment of her leaving it.”  How does Sarah further the cause of tikkun?
     To be noted the last parasha, Vayeira, ends with the narrative about the Akedah (the binding of Isaac), whereas the last time Sarah is mentioned is when Isaac is born.  In this week’s parasha, Chayei Sarah – Genesis 23;1-25:18, there is no mention of Sarah at all except in the very beginning that tells us that Sarah lived for so many years on this earth before she died, thus we read; ויהיו חיי שרה, “and they would be Sarah’s life" (they being the many years of her life).  We need to read this more so as referring to the years that Sarah lived as opposed to the life she had.  Make no mistake though, she was a busy woman, following her husband to Canaan and their journey through Egypt, being an active partner with Abraham in the future promises for Israel, protecting her family, helping serve their guests and in the end being the mother to Issac and grandmother to Jacob.  But in general the Mikra (Bible) does not say much about her, which is why Zornberg writes that the opening passage about Sarah is “covert,” simply because there is more to Sarah’s life than meets the eye.

     Zornberg wants to look beyond the three Midrashim that Rashi calls upon, in particular to the Akedah of Vayeira, as she seeks the deeper meaning behind the person of Sarah.  In the Midrash, Perkei d’Rabbi Eliezer, Zornberg says that a theme of this Midrash is about the ongoing purpose of the Shofar blasts that we hear at Rosh Hashanah.  In this case the crying sound of the Shofar represents the crying of Sarah (three sobs) after hearing about Isaac, which itself is apart of our liturgy “as an atonement for her [Sarah] descendants.”  For Zornberg, Sarah’s crying for Isaac was not just connected to a loss, but it was the anguish of a nightmare, teaching us how we need to wrestle with the message of the Akedah ourselves.   Tradition teaches that Sarah died when Satan told her what Abraham did to Isaac, leaving out the ram part of the story and the fact that her son lives.  In another Midrash, Tanachuma also on the Akedah, Sarah is confronted by Satan disguised to look like her son, Isaac.  In this Midrash, although Satan (by looking like Isaac) tells Sarah that “he” is okay, Sarah cannot bear the story of what happened and dies.  In this case Satan does to Sarah what he could not do to Abraham; bring death to their offspring and the future of the Jewish people.  However, despite evils failure so to speak,  the theme of this Tanachuma Midrash is that while “the sacrifice is not carried out [it is] not aborted [either],” meaning that for Sarah (and for us) it still has compromising results.  Finally, in a Midrash from Leviticus Rabbah, Zornberg says that its central theme is the tension of joy in a broken world.  The joy of Abraham that his son lived is mitigated by the sorrow that Sarah experienced that caused her death.  Zornberg concludes that this Midrash teaches us that “joy belongs to the future … not to the troubled middle-distance of temporal reality.”   All this to say that Sarah depicts humanity in a variety of ways by how she reacts to her own feelings and emotions regarding Isaac, which is why “The Life of Sarah” in the Bible is covert.  If that is so, what is it that Zornberg wants us to know?

     Well, each Midrash says something about how Sarah lived.  The first Midrash tells us that Sarah died not of misinformation but a terrible truth that her family would be attacked.  The second Midrash wants us to know that Isaac’s survival contributed to a frightening reality for Sarah, which would be the continuing attempts upon her descendants.  And lastly the final Midrash says, it will be even though it might not, hence even though Isaac lived the next person may not.  All in all, all three Midrashim for Zornberg carry a similar, although slightly different, meaning.   Sarah recognizes that the plot against her son and his father is the same that will plague humanity going forward, just like she separated Ishmael and Isaac as she reflected on what happened between Cain and Abel.  More than that, the death of Sarah also allows us to consider how the power of bad things can impact life in our world.  If Abraham did not do what he did with Isaac, even though Isaac lived,  perhaps Sarah would have not morphed into a woman who allowed the moment to ruin her?   This is based on Rashi who teaches וכמעט של נשחת, “and he was nearly slaughtered,” thus for the Maharal (Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel, 1520-1609) Sarah’s “reaction of panic [came as she realized] that [it is] only a small thing [that] separates life and death.”  Sarah could not get over what almost happened to her son, it took her breath away so to speak. On the positive, when Isaac marries Rebekah, a 14^th century Midrash teaches that every time he entered his mother’s tent he would see darkness but upon entering it with Rebekah he saw light once again.

     That is how Sarah continues to live.  She died in the darkness of fear, panic and anxiousness of what could have been for her son, but also what the world can expect.  With Isaac, his mother was also a means of renewal, a light reappeared in the beauty of his marriage with Rebekah whom he loved.  We can therefore conclude that Sarah suffered a somatic attack that cased her death.  A somatic event is when the power of the mind and spirit, although distinct from the physical body, can impact the functioning of the body itself.  It seems like such a negative message to embrace, but really is just the opposite.  Knowing is a large part of the battle to overcome.  Torah is telling us that we live in a world demanding repair that will impact our mental and spiritual health not always in the best of ways (Sarah's darkness).  Torah does not want us to be ignorant that we live in a broken world, and via its teachings, wisdom and light are revealed (Sarah's light).  Having the expectation that everything is okay all the time has the power of working against us.  Expectation can be our worst enemy or it can be a healthy dose of realism.  Still, do we really need words on a page to tell us that we live in a broken world; of course not!  The words of our tradition simply want us to know that to fix things and rise above the brokenness of Sarah the answer involves her light as well, or a sense of “other” to guide us.                 

Parashat Vayeira - Come as you Are (5 min read)

רפואה מן התורה
Healing from the Torah

     Last week we met Abram, who became Abraham, a man who was willing to separate himself from his past to explore a new future.  We also learned that unlike his predecessors Abraham was an active partner with God, both in his behavior and his flawed humanness. Abraham was given the charge והיה ברכה (to be a blessing) by lifting up the torch of Torah in his world, which he did by showing how a normal person (just like us) could traverse his “today” by walking toward a better “tomorrow.”  This week we are in Parashat Vayeira, Genesis 18:1-22:24, where we encounter more of Abraham as he continues his journey that began when he left the place of his birth. 

     Abraham’s world was a lot like ours; there were evil people, unfair rulers, wars, depravity, navigating seeming lose-lose choices, famine, parental decisions, relationship conflicts, family dynamics and personal belief systems (to just name a few). As he lived in his world our tradition says that Abraham taught us הכנסת אורחים (hospitality to strangers) when he attended to the three strangers who came to him while healing from his own circumcision. Likewise, as he intervened for the sake of Lot, his family and other upright folks in Sodom, Abraham teaches us the principle of צדקה (justice) in the affirmation of life.  Following the events in Sodom we finish this parasha with two like stories that we also encountered in Lech Lecha.   First like with Pharaoh, Abraham instructs Sarah to tell King Abimelech that she is his sister instead of his wife.  However, unlike Pharaoh who was fearful, when the king discovered that Abraham and Sarah were actually husband and wife he gave Abraham riches and respect since he was a  prophet of God.  Second, we have yet another story about the birth of a son to Abraham.  In Lech Lecha Abraham has a son (Ishmael with Hagar) who he eventually had to banish from his domain whereas here, when Abraham has another son (Isaac with Sarah), he believed his task was to sacrifice him on top of a mountain.  There are varied story-lines in Vayeira that each deserve time to be explored, but for now we will look at one passage to consider.

     The very first verse says, “And the LORD appeared (Vayeira) unto him by the terebinths of Mamre, as he sat in the tent door in the heat of the day” (cf. Genesis 18:1).  Why was Abraham sitting not only in the entrance of his but during the heat of the day?  Not surprisingly our tradition has differing views. The Talmud (Bava Metzia 87b) paints the picture of Abraham as a man who did not let the pain of his circumcision stop him for entertaining his quests.  The sun at the heat of the day was for healing that God sent because he cared about the welfare of Abraham (Rashi).  From Targum Jonathan we learn that Abraham while sitting still is given the opportunity to have the glory of God revealed  to him (just not appear).  With that understanding we then look to another Midrash (Genesis R. 48:7) that teaches Abraham would remain seated as he heals while the Shekinah stands before him and his children (Israel) to follow.  As such, the proof text that the Mishnah quotes to support the idea of the Shekinah standing before Abraham is אלהים נצב בעדת אל, “God stands in the congregation of God” (Psalm 82:1). The conversation ensues that then states, עומד אין כתיב כאן אלא נצב, “it does not say stand (עומד) but rather stand (נצב).”  The answer for this is - אטימוס (eh’tee’mos), which is a Greek word that means “present,” as opposed to just standing erect or a state of being.    In other words, using the Zohar to help understand “present” a bit better, the heat of the day is synonymous with the divine light of God that itself is revealed to Abraham has he sits in the entrance of the tent.  The entrance of the tent furthermore is seen as a portal between the lower and the upper worlds that stand between God and mankind (also see Perkei Avot 4:17).  The mystical tradition furthermore compares the sun to the sefirot of Chokhmah (wisdom) that sits right underneath Keter (Crown) as the essence of the divine light which descends from God into the lower world of mankind where Abraham dwells. 

     What can the mystical tradition teach us?  We learn that Abraham while sitting in the entrance of his tent during the heat of day was engaged with a God who he considered to be “present” with him.  In Abraham we see a sense of relationship with God on a personal level as opposed to the idea of “other” beyond human connection.  Abraham’s first act of kindness came to his three visitors and his second was the intervening on behalf of the righteous in Sodom; both acts reveal the core of Abraham’s conviction rooted in the values of Torah and therefore God. Abraham was not perfect, we know that, but again a lesson here is that as a normal person Abraham was committed to his own spirituality in both word and deed.   Abraham was a not a religious nut but a man who allowed himself to be in touch with his own spirituality, and Torah, gave him the opportunity to live out his convictions.  As we said, our tradition wants to repair that connection of the spiritual nature of humanity and the Torah that gives flesh to it, thus when we unify that duality we find the foundation of tikkun for self and others.  

Parashat Lech Lecha - the journey from yesterday till tomorrow (5 min read)

רפואה מן התורה

 Healing from the Torah

     This past Shabbat we had a brief discussion during our Torah study about Noah being described as, צדיק תמים היה בדרהיו, “righteous and unblemished he was in his generation.” In particular the word תמים was discussed. In modern Hebrew תמים (tamim) can mean “innocent, blameless or upright.” In Biblical Hebrew תמים can mean “God-fearing, unblemished” and is often translated as “perfect,” yet it can also mean “innocent”  The word for innocent in Biblical Hebrew is זכו (zachu), which can also mean “free or pure,” whereas in modern Hebrew it can mean not only innocent but also to “vindicate or exonerate.”  The words, though similar, are also slightly different.  In Biblical Hebrew the word carries with it more of a tone of spiritual and moral uprightness based on the ways of God, and in modern Hebrew, it’s more so a legal verdict.  That is very simple of course, but to the point. I think this matters as we begin to look at the life of Abraham.  Prior to Abraham we learned that Adam found out that there were consequences to the choices he made. With Noah we learned that he did not allow the higher values of his God-given soul to lead him as he encountered the power of his world.  And now Abram (later to be called Abraham) appears to represent a man, as we shall see, who aspires to live as one who is “righteous and unblemished” while seeking to conquer his own humanity.

     “Righteous and unblemished,” and some translations even say “perfect,” in many ways represent all the stories that we read about the people of God. Regarding Noah that designation has to be held in juxtaposition with “his generation” as opposed to being a man who was mistake free and/or infallible.  This is how the writers of the Torah understood Noah and I say the same is so for Abram.  Perhaps one difference between Noah and Abram is that Noah has no real voice, either with his short comings or emotive reactions, whereas Abram is more interactive and proactive as part of the story itself.  Abram’s story begins in Lech Lecha, Genesis 12:1-17:27, where God tells Abram and his family to leave their homeland.  Abram along the way makes some poor choices and the results are mixed.  In one part of the story Abram tells Pharaoh that his wife was his sister, because he feared that they might kill him so Pharaoh could have her,  although in the end he left Egypt with riches instead. In another part of the story he takes Hagar, his wife’s manservant, and has a son with her because he and Sarai could not conceive.  That however does not turn out so well, and Abram suffers the pain of a father, having to tell Hagar and his son Ishmael to leave. 
     In each case it was how he responded that should be noted.  When Abram and his family left Egypt it says, בְּשֵׁ֥ם יְהֹוָֽה וַיִּקְרָ֥א שָׁ֛ם אַבְרָ֖ם בָּרִֽאשֹׁנָ֑ה, hence it was the first time that "Abram called on the name of the Lord” by building an altar.  Why did this time happen now? Abram realized how fortunate he was to be alive after leaving Egypt with the gain of wealth, and despite his error, he gives thanks to God.  Likewise, after the birth of Ishmael, Abram would learn that his choice not to wait on God resulted in a divided home and the displeasure of his wife.  Abram questions God unlike Noah, or Adam before him, because he wants to know how his offspring can inherit a land if he has no seed?  When God makes him a promise of a seed Abram takes matters into his own hands. Like the riches he took from Egypt he and Sarai would have a son even in their old age.   In both cases, Abram acted, and he realized his error or undeserved good fortune by responding with thanks to God.  What can this teach us?

     This was God’s man, a man who was human but sought the right way even after he fell short.  So when he left his homeland the first thing God says to him in this narrative is, “And I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you, and I will aggrandize your name, and [you shall] be a blessing.”  We read in a Midrash (Genesis Rabbah 39) about a traveler who entered a city and saw a building on fire, only to wonder who would take care of it, with the owner appearing to take responsibility for the flames. Abram asks the same of his world, only to have God say that he is the caregiver of the world, and in Abram the world be cared for.  How is Abram a caregiver for the world?  The mystics teach that Abram was not just physically leaving his past behind him but spiritually was walking into something new.  Maimonides writes that “and [you shall] be a blessing” means that like Abram all the families of the world will be blessed.  It could be that Abram was a blessing by becoming the first Jew, being the first to embrace monotheism, being the forerunner to Israel, teaching us about the acts of hospitality or standing up for justice.  But in another Midrash, Targum Yonathan, we learn that Abram was not just to leave his place of birth but to “separate” from it and never return.   The commonality between Adam, Noah and Abram is that they all made mistakes and had to make a choice how to respond.  The difference is that only Abram responded to a God inspired way by choosing to separate from the ills of his past in order to enter a new future.  That was a voice that we have not encountered before.

     Abram (exalted father) became Abraham (father of many) because his blessing would be for all who will follow.  In Abram we are invited to separate from out past and seek a new tomorrow guided by the ways of Torah in how we connect to our spirituality, values and ethics.   We are human, like Noah and Adam, but what will make us “righteous and unblemished” is when we, like Abraham, choose to live as normal people in progress through our higher values.