Parashat Ki Tavo, “The Prophet Isaiah: The Light of our Fruits," Deuteronomy 26:1-29:8, Haftarah, Isaiah 60:1-22

This week is the third Shabbat before Rosh Hashanah, our journey of preparation continues during this month of Elul. This week's parasha, Ki Tavo, begins "And when you enter the land...," meaning yesterday needs to be put into perspective. It was Leonard Cohen, the Jewish song writer, who said about Rosh Hashanah, "how can I begin anything new with all of yesterday in me." Now while still a few weeks away, Cohen's words also work with Ki Tavo as well. Moses taught the Jews that day that "when you enter the land" life is new, your surroundings are new and your possibilities will be new, but don't let the past steal your new present.

Every morning in Jewish prayer we say, “How good is our portion, how pleasant our lot, how beautiful our heritage,” asking us to consider the middah of Hakarat Hatov, or recognition of the good, hence gratitude.  There is a story in a Midrash (Exodus Rabbah 24) about Reuven who experienced the pains of Egypt but also the delights of deliverance, yet he had no gratitude.  Here, Reuven speaks about Egypt where they had dry clay for mortar to make bricks and now have to walk through the clay on the seabed in order to escape from Pharaoh and his armies who sought their lives; but we know how that ended.  In response God says to him “all of these miracles you now equate with evil.”  This Midrash goes on to call him “Foolish” because for Reuven the power of Egypt took away his ability to show gratitude for his deliverance.

The Prophet Isaiah in this week's Haftarah (Is. 60:1-22) begins "Arise and shine, for your light has come, for the glory of God shines upon you." The goodness of God is upon you the prophet says, yes you will contend with exile and all the struggles of life, but like our Midrash above, don't be foolish like Reuven and lose your gratitude for all of the good received, no matter how little or no matter how much!  But Isaiah does not paint an unrealistic picture either, also writing. “Though darkness may cover the earth, thick darkness the people, upon you God will shine.”  Just look at our world, we see antisemitism, social injustice, war and famine, hate, violence and needless killings. This ugly side of life is perhaps why upon entering the land Israel's first deed was to build an altar and “inscribe upon it all the words of this teaching.” In Ki Tavo one of those first teachings is about tithing (Deuteronomy. 26:12-15), an act of showing Hakarat Hatov, or gratitude. They did this with the practice of Bikkurim, giving of the first fruits of their harvest in order to help make life around them better for others. No matter what happened when they entered this new land the light to help others and the betterment of themselves was to be present, gratitude was always primary, the past wasn't to take that away. 

But is it simply the fruit that comes from the ground?  We further learn in Ki Tavo that a women's child from her body is also called  fruit, thus “Blessed shall be the fruit of your body (belly), the produce of your ground.”  I actually think here we can refer to a Christian tradition that can find its partner in Mussar. As such in the Christian bible we read about what is called the “fruit of the spirit, ” those being “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Just as an aside, but worth mentioning, it is not “fruits of the spirit” but “fruit of the spirit,” suggesting that all these characteristics are of equal value.  In the teaching of Mussar we refer to our middot, our soul characteristics, in the same way as they produce attributes of love, goodness, humility and compassion, although from our middot can also come hate, evil, pride and hardheartedness towards both self and others. The fact is that fruit can spoil, both the fruit from the ground but also the fruit from our middot.

Although too big of a subject here, with an understanding of good and bad fruit, let me say something about the idea of blessings and curses. In chapter 28 we read about several curses the people would experience if they were unfaithful to God. Moses teaches after they cross the Jordan and enter this new land before them, that "im lo tishmah," if they do not listen to God all the curses to follow will fall upon the people. That is not an easy pill to swallow, and more than that it suggests that people are no more than puppets on strings and the blessings of God are conditional.  Still, while the ancients my have saw God in that way, it does not take away from its meaning if you don't.  Within the section on the curses, we read in 28:22-24 “the Lord will strike you with consumption, fever, and inflammation, with scorching heat and drought, with blight and mildew; they shall hound you until you perish. The skies above your head shall be copper and the earth under you iron. The Lord will make the rain of your land dust, and sand shall drop on you from the sky, until you are wiped out.” Today we might say that is the result of Global Warming.

If Global warming is a by-product of industrial emissions, burning of fossil fuels or cutting down our forests, not to mention that there are even studies that connect gun control problems with global warming, do we blame this curse on God or ourselves? I am not standing on a soapbox as an environmentalist advocate, others can do that, but I want to make a point about cause and effect. The Rabbis of the Talmud (San. 66a) came to view the idea of blessings and curses as something we do to each other, the Chofetz Chaim (The Laws and Prohibitions of Lashon Hara) teaching that bad speech against another is a form of cursing. I want to suggest that perhaps the curses we experience in life have much more to do with the spoiled fruit of our middot towards each other and our world more so than what God does.  This also might be a way to read the Prophet Isaiah as well.  So maybe while our spoiled fruit can be the cause of a curse, the goodness of our middot can be the fruit of blessings, creating a light that will "Arise and shine" upon others. This is what Elul asks of us as we prepare for the New year ahead.

Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Adam 

Parashat Ki Teitzei, “The Prophet Isaiah: The Individual Consciousness Endures to the End,” Deuteronomy 21:10-25:19, Haftarah, Isaiah 54:1-10

This week we are in Parashat Ki Teitzei, which is the third Shabbat before our ascent to Rosh Hashanah day. In this parasha we also find the most amount of mitzvot, 72 of the 613 commandments, all having to do with how others should be treated in life, a common teaching that the Jews receive as they are about to begin a new life in a new land.  In the last parasha the theme was about social consciousness, this week it is about individual consciousness. Going into Rosh Hashanah we are asked to reflect on both. 

Examples of such instructions are the proper treatment of prisoners of war, treatment of spouses and children, compassion for both people and animals, interpersonal and family relationships, protection of a neighbor’s property and wellbeing, feeding the less fortunate and the stranger, fair business practices and justice, personal obligation and more; all these must work in concert for the community to endure and thrive.  Regarding the idea to endure we read in Pirkei Avot 1:18, “On three things does the world stand/endure,” but why stand or endure?  In some versions of Avot it uses the word omayd (stand) as opposed to kayaym (endure), and baring the reasons why, the use of one word over the other may make a difference how one reads Ki Teitzei. Still they are similar as well. Omayd just doesn't mean to merely “stand,” but it can mean to “stand up to something,” which can be understood as to “endure.” Yet kayaym, which comes from lakum, is a word that can mean to rise up, exist or be able to subsist. Still, another word derived from lakum, is t’koumah, which means rebirth, renewal or even uprising. Stashing up to something and standing up for something are slightly different. 

So in this case to stand for something is what it means to “endure” (kayaym), yet what does that have to do with Ki Teitzei?  The nature of such endurance is based on values (Torah and Din) integrity (ovodah and emet) and redemptive traits with others (gemilut chasadim and shalom), inner convictions of being and personal ethics of living that include the support of others as well. Yet enduring through life takes effort, follow through and not easy to do; not news by any means. Over the last few weeks our Parshiyot have focused on community obligations and consciousness, and this week it is about personal consciousness, not that it wasn't there before mind you. In community it is easier to reason, “someone else will do it,” but not so when an individual assumes ownership that is exclusive within the larger community, even if not isolated from it. Here, with personal obligation in mind, we want to take a look at a particular verse from Deuteronomy 22:8 that says, “When you build a new house, then you will make a parapet for your roof  so that you do not bring blood upon your house if a person falls from there.”

At first the interpretation seems simple, we are our brothers keeper so to speak (cf. Genesis 4:8-9).  In fact the Sfrono teaches that “if it were to happen that someone falls off that roof you could not have been the indirect cause, seeing you had put up a protective railing. Had you not done so; your family might bear part of the guilt for such a mishap.” Here it is not so much about protecting others but personal liability and the obligation attached to it. In Talmud (Shabbat 32a) it says that the one who falls from the roof met their destined fate whereas the homeowner finds merit because they built a ma’ahkeh, the parapet on the roof, to protect a life from harm. Yet this is just not about a roof!

Rabbeinu Bahya, a well know 14th century Rabbi, reminding us that the rabbinic interpretation of this verse is further applied also to a vicious dog or a shaky later, a version of a stairway, writes, “however, you (the homeowner) have the duty so that you will not be perceived to be the cause of his fall.”  But this was not just a mere human expectation to value life but the very foundation of what Judaism calls Kiddush Hashem(“sanctification of G‑d’s name”); doing right by becoming the living embodiment of what is good and holy. Caring for another’s welling being  and welfare is an act of Kiddush HaShem. Conversely, when we act in an irresponsible and/or hypocritical way that causes another harm it can be called chillul HaShem (“desecration of G‑d’s name”). In this case we must not turn our hearts and heads away from the plight of others, regardless of their fate, which is not for us to decide. This can be called chillul Hashem because we elected to not do our part to protect another. This is not meant to be a statement that condemns but from the perspective of Torah our actions have consequences for both the good and the bad. We see this is the Sefer HaChinuch with the 547 Commandment that is about, “the Prohibition against a Hazard.”  This obligation, which applies to all things at all times for both men and women, teaches that we “may not leave stumbling blocks and hazards in our lands and in our homes so that people should not die or be harmed from them.” 

In this Haftarah of consolation for this Shabbat Isaiah tells those who are entering captivity that although they will feel like a barren woman who has been forsaken because they cannot bear children, in the end their return from exile will be like having the children they thought they never may have. It also goes on to teach that God has not recused responsibility for the welfare for the people’s plight and freedom.  The story of the homeowner is a reminder that we are not to recuse ourselves from the needs of others.  In our country right now there are many needs, albeit from a tragedy like what happened in Maui to the on going need of the homeless, not to mention everything in between from the local food bank to the soup kitchen at the local shelter, reminding us there are always needs we must help with.  But, it can be a burden, it can;  regularly being asked for financial assistance every way we turn. So is there ever a time when our individual consciousness can take the day off?  Ending with an often spoken quite from Pirkei Avot from 2:16 we read “You are not required to finish your work, yet neither are you permitted to desist from it.”  We are always asked to build a parapet, how and when is for each of us to figure out.  

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam 

Parashat Shoftim, "The Prophet Isaiah: The Law of Social Consciousness ," Deuteronomy 16:18-18:21, Haftarah, Isaiah 51:12-52:13

Under the topic of Ethics and Society in the Britannica Encyclopedia about Judaism it reads, “Jewish affirmations about God and humans intersect in the concept of Torah as the ordering of human existence in the direction of the divine. Humans are ethically responsible creatures who are responsive to the presence of God in nature and in history.”  This idea in particular of being responsible for others in human history is central to Moses’ teaching. Last week in Parashat Re'eh Moses touched on issues of social concerns with the laws of Peah, whereas this week in Parashat Shoftim the issue will be social consciousness, or a community ethic of being.  On this fourth Shabbat before Rosh Hashanah, marked by the new month of Elul the day before, we therefore read this week an all to familiar verse that says, “Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may thrive and occupy the land that your God is giving you.”  What does this type of Justice look like?

In the very last part of this Torah parasha (Deuteronomy 21:1-9) we find a strange ritual that has its fair share of commentary. Here, If a corpse is found lying in an open area - the elders from the closest town to where the body was discovered - shall take a heifer to a particular location and break its neck. After that while the elders of the town wash their hands over the heifer the Kohanim come and say the following blessing; “Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see it done. Absolve, O lord, Your people Israel whom You redeemed, and do not let guilt for the blood of the innocent remain among Your people Israel.” This was done so they, the town, would be absolved of blood guilt, removing from their midst any guilt regarding this life-lost in order to do the right thing before God.

Of course the Rabbis asked why was this needed if the people who found the body did not commit this crime? The Talmud (Keritot 23b) teaches that the heifer’s neck only had to be broken if the perpetrator was not found making this “a situation of uncertainty” that absolved the people. For Rashi (on Dt. 21: 7) it was a declaration of intention, “We never saw him and knowingly let him depart without food or escort (if we had seen him we would not have let him depart …).” Rashi says the intention would be to catch the suspect, whereas Maimonides in his Guide for the Perplexed took another view (Part 3, Chapter 40).  In this case the ritual of the heifer and the fanfare involved had the intent to raise the awareness of what happened in order to weed out the murderer more so than it was a declaration of innocence ala Rashi.  Here, “It is well known that it is considered great wickedness and guilt on the part of a person who knows the murderer, and is silent about him whilst the elders call upon God as witness that they know nothing about the murderer.”  Still the Sefer Yesodei HaTorah (32:1) teaches that for one, “they cannot bring him to justice [so] the heifer is broken instead,” and two, “that they not come to kill an innocent man suspected of that murder without incontestable proof and clear testimony.”  In the Sefer Yesodei HaTorah the two stated reasons have to do with community justice for the person killed and community justice for the person who did the killing.

Without getting into the details of each there is a common theme amongst them; a community consciousness of responsibility.  Certainly this was the very premise of what Moses wrote to the whole nation in all their endeavors, tzedek, tzedek tirdof, “Justice, justice shall you pursue,” albeit a justice to stand against social ills, equality regarding the law, innocence and guilt, treatment of the environment, fair magistrates or the right to stand for good, the Torah’s sense of justice is broad as it underscores the ethic of the community in general. But Torah's sense of justice is never about the individual alone, hence the ritual of the eglah arufah, or breaking the heifers neck above.  This Shabbat we read in the Prophet Isaiah, “Awake, awake, O Zion! Clothe yourself in splendor; Put on your robes of majesty, Jerusalem, holy city! For the uncircumcised and the impure Shall never enter you again.” This is about the collective efforts and success of Israel, this is about Israel’s unified social consciousness as the prophet would go on to say “Indeed, My servant shall prosper, Be exalted and raised to great heights.”

Here, servant should be understood as caretaker, yet the word is a singular verb that refers to the nation, or the people as a whole.  Regarding the eglah arufah, the collective town, or people, proclaimed their innocence while affirming their moral responsibility to avenge a death ( as opposed to turning their back and saying not our problem).  Again the prophet proclaimed, “GOD will bare a holy arm In the sight of all the nations, And the very  of earth shall see The victory of our God,” the “holy arm” being the people who in their collective consciousness would stand up for justice and injustices in their world as opposed to turning its back.   While we of course no longer carry out the ritual the eglah arufah, our need as a community to stand for justice and injustice as caretakers of the ways of Torah has not changed as we are “ethically responsible creatures who are responsive to the presence of God in nature and in history.”   Our social consciousness as a community, as Jews, and people of God is the foundation of helping to create a better world as part of the solution.  In this month of Elul, this final journey to Rosh Hashanah, we end this week with the words of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel that say, “The life of a Jew requires focus and direction, and cannot be carried out offhandedly,” meaning that we should not dismiss our joint personal and collective role as insignificant or unimportant when it comes to the ethical role of our community. More words to ponder for this new year before us.

Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Adam 

Parashat Re'eh, "The Prophet Isaiah: Social Concerns are Community Concerns," Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17, Haftarah, Isaiah 54:11-55:5

This week, parashat Re’eh, is read on the fifth Shabbat before Rosh Hashanah. Moses taught on a variety of subjects to include Kashrut (Kosher laws), Shemitah (remission of debts after seven years) and Peah (leaving a portion unharvested for those who need food).  A common voice of all three have to do with social concerns that are the foundations of Tzedek Chevrati, or Social Justice.

In a conversation with my friend and colleague Rabbi Ami Monson we spoke about social justice (tzedek chevarti), but also about social action (p’ulah chevartit).  In so doing he reminded me of two central verses that have to do with both; one from Deuteronomy 16:20 (next week’s parasha, Shoftim) and the other from the Aleinu prayer. From Deuteronomy we read “Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may thrive and occupy the land that your God is giving you.”  Here, while in context it is about the election of magistrates to render a fair verdict to all, it acts as the foundation of our own sense of justice where all people regardless of race, sex, gender, color, religion, nationality, rich or poor, straight or a member of the LGBTQ+ community are created B'tzelem Elohim, or in the likeness of the Divine, which is the foundation of our equality or of social justice. The section of interest in the Aleinu prayer says “to perfect the world under the sovereignty of the Almighty.”  The perfection of the world in the Aleinu was based on the eradication and abandonment of idols, something that for us would be analogous to social ills, ridding our world of the hate and discrimination that too often has a voice of normality, which also includes a disregard for our responsibility to act for the sake of others, hence social action. 

Looking back at Kashrut, in part, we must see this as being about human entitlement, so while you are permitted to eat some things you are not permitted to eat whatever you want.  In the same way we are not entitled to care for some people and not others. Shemitah is a reminder that all people are equal, all will receive a remission of their debt (boy how times have changed!). There is a cryptic verse in Deuteronomy 15:3  that reads, “You may dun the foreigner; but you must remit whatever is due you from your kin,” meaning that you can withhold debt from a gentile but not the Jew. Problem, this verse is in conflict with what we learn in Leviticus 19:34 that says, “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 conversation with my teacher and Rabbi, whose name I will not mention simply because this came from a personal email exchange, when I asked about this verse they said, “So we recognize that the Torah is our first book not our last. We recognize our role as critical readers to bring consistency to these ethics. And we read it to hold up a mirror to our own racism, sexism, xenophobia, chauvinism and small mindedness,” which Robert Alter attributes to Deuteronomy 15:3 above.  Here, Alter points to the Hebrew word for “dun” that has the same root as the word "taskmasters" who were the people that watched over the slaves back in Exodus.  Who were the taskmasters?  These were men who were the definition of racist, sexist, xenophobia, chauvinistic and were small minded in how they treated the slaves, reminding those who heard Moses to look within as to not mirror that soiled and evil behavior toward one another or the stranger in their midst, reminding us today to not use our power or greed to corrupt or discriminate. 

Regarding Peah, taking care of the hungry in their midst, this social concern for Moses was a matter of heart.  In Deuteronomy 15:7 Moses teaches, “if however, there is a needy person among you, one of your kin in any of your settlements in the land that your God is giving you, do not harden your heart and shut your hand against your needy kin.”  The phrase “pay attention” in Hebrew is “seem leiv,” which can be translated "place of heart," thus when Moses warned the people not to forget the needy he writes, “Beware lest you harbor the base thought.”  The Hebrew for a "base thought" is “im l’vav’v’cha b’li’yal,” which means "with a worthless heart."   In Torah the heart is the epicenter of our humanity that impacts our thinking, hence a "base thought" toward another or a thing, which is why for the early Sages in Pirkei Avot it was a "good heart" that defined a righteous person. (Avot 2:13).

Taking care of others was not a choice but an obligation that stemmed from a matter of the heart. This social reality for the people echoes the words of the Prophet Isaiah from this week: “Ho, everyone that is thirsty, come here for water, And he that has no money; Come here, buy, and eat; Yea, come, buy wine and milk Without money and without price.”  While some can buy others cannot but both are just as deserving. Social justice (tzedek chevarti), “everyone," and social action (p’ulah chevartit), everyone "come," buy where there is no price gauging or find provision when this is a need. You see this was the ideal society that Moses spoke about.  I want to believe that this is what all people desire; a community where the power of our hands and hearts can help to make our world a better place. Our reminder on the way to the Holidays: Social concerns are community concerns. 

Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Adam 

Parashat Eikev, "The Prophet Isaiah on God's Enduring Love for Israel," Deuteronomy 7:12-11:25, Haftarah, Isaiah 49:14-51:3

On this sixth Shabbat, before Rosh Hashanah, I’d like to tell you a short story about Moshe Yosef Daum and Fela Nussbaum who were both holocaust survivors and married after the war in Poland. Regarding their shared experience, while Moshe took the attitude that humans could not possibly comprehend the mystery of God in relationship to the horrors of the holocaust, Fela’s was the opposite.  In this case her son said of his mom, “before God’s final judgment, she will turn the tables. She will demand to know why God stood by silently during the holocaust as her large family was being destroyed.” We will return to Fela in just a little bit, but what does her story have to do with this week’s Torah parasha, or more particularly, the Haftarah of Eikev?

The theme in general of this week’s Haftarah, and really the entire Torah reading, is about God’s enduring love for Israel.  The theme of the Haftarah parallels our ascent to Rosh Hashanah but must be understood in light of the world in which Isaiah lived.  A prophet of the Southern Kingdom, Isaiah wrote at a time just before Israel was ushered off into exile in Babylon based on her unfaithfulness to God, Torah and one another.  In the same way Isaiah wrote prior to the destruction of the Temple, we read on the Shabbat before Tisha B’Av, “And when you lift up your hands, I will turn My eyes away from you; Though you pray at length, I will not listen. Your hands are stained with blood” (Is. 1:15). Further writing, “Listen, House of David,”[Isaiah] retorted, “is it not enough for you to treat the weary amongst you as helpless that you also treat my God as helpless?” (Is. 7:13), words that speak to Israel’s lack of faith to believe that God was still present even in the midst of their exile. 

Yes, Isaiah called Israel to task, but he was also a voice of hope, renewal and restoration.  Last Shabbat’s Haftarah from Isaiah spoke of a God who would comfort Israel and would bring them back to Jerusalem after their exile. This week, reminding the people of God’s enduring love, the prophet wrote, “Zion [the congregation of Israel] says, GOD has forsaken me, My Sovereign has forgotten me’” (Is. 49:14). But that is not so, as Isaiah further declares, “Can a woman forget her baby, Or disown the child of her womb? Though she might forget, I never could forget you” (Is. 49:15).  So while yes even if a mother but for a moment can turn her back on her child, God cannot - in fact God will not, forget the nation that is called the Lord’s “first born.” Isaiah therefore continues, “Truly GOD has comforted Zion, Comforted all her ruins— Made her wilderness like Eden, Her desert like the Garden of GOD. Gladness and joy shall abide there, Thanksgiving and the sound of music” (Is. 51:3).

According to the words of Isaiah the people believed that God had abandoned them in some strange land, questioning if God even cared in the first place, which takes us back to the story of Fela Nussbaum. Fela believed the same thing as Israel in Isaiah’s day, “where is God … how can I trust a God who left me in my greatest need,” Fela's own lack of faith to believe that God was still present even in the midst of her personal nightmare!  Did that mean Fela no longer believed in God, was she now agnostic, or maybe she became what the religious world called a Pagan!  On the contrary! Fela was the ultimate definition of what Moses meant when he called the people in Deuteronomy 9:6 “stiff-necked,” but not the way you might think. Do we really believe that just because someone struggles with their connection to spiritual things they lack faith, or worse God turns away?  Stiff-necked means stubborn, which should be seen as a good thing, or consider the following: if Fela Nussbaum was not “stiff-necked” could she really have had the audacity (or chutzpah) to actually think she could stand there and take God to task!

During the Holidays we take God to task when we pray the Vekhol Ma’aminim that says “And all believe that God is faithful. And all believe that God is good to all. And all believe that God is omnipotent. And all believe that God answers the silent prayer. And all believe that God is just and righteous. And all believe that God’s work is perfect.” Is this so? Can all really believe, or like Fela, are there those who cannot?  Rabbi Joshua Hoffman writes, “the pursuit of wisdom will be an everlasting commitment, one that will be tested” in generations past, present and future, which will include our doubts as people of faith, or part of the Jewish struggle; remember the meaning of Israel is one who struggles with God and prevails!

Therefore, on our journey toward  the Chagim, or the Holidays, we look at the year behind us, and maybe just like with Fela, life dealt a hand to you or I that made us struggle with our faith as we approach Rosh Hashanah, and if so zeh b’seder - it’s okay - we share that common bond!  Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote of people's faith, “To some people they are like shooting stars, passing and unremembered. In others they kindle a light that is never quenched,” meaning that our faith experiences and pursuits are somewhat subjective because that are individually unique. Our struggles are also individually unique, which is why we all must be a little “stiff-necked” as to not give up on the spiritual interests that may potentially yield great rewards. That was Isaiah’s message to Israel, that was what Fela figured out despite her unimaginable experience, and that is the message we are to ponder on the way to the Holidays.

Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Adam