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
