The Relevance of the Mishkan

As we begin the reading of the portion Terumah we continue to find ourselves in the Torah's uncharted territory! Throughout the book of Genesis and much of Exodus our Torah readings have featured powerful narrative sections.  We have studied the creation of the world, the flood and the curious journey of the descendents of Abraham and Sarah.  With the experience of Sinai the Torah largely puts the narrative behind in favor of different issues.  Last week we read the portion of Mishpatim and focused on our most ancient law code.  This week, we begin a series of portions whose focus is building of the Tabernacle.  While the narrative sections are almost immediately accessible, the relevance of the seemingly endless lists of different pieces of the portable tabernacle would appear to be mind numbing.  Our Rabbis sought meaning in every aspect of Torah, including the parts of the Tabernacle. Permit me to offer two lessons from the tradition derived from the parts of the Mishkan. Our tradition teaches us that the Ark of the Covenant held the laws that Moses received on Mount Sinai. What is also taught is that the people gathered up the broken pieces of the Golden Calf.  The lesson that the Rabbis learn from this is that the broken tablets in the world today should not be cast away; namely, those people who are aged, or infirm, or those who have lost their way financially.  They too have a place in the ark that contains the admonition to remember the stranger.  In this way, we are reminded they have a place in our lives as well. The Torah commands that on the top of the ark, there were Cherubs of Gold. Why, we might well ask, were we commanded to place upon the Ark two cherubs (small winged angels, portrayed as children with chubby, rosy faces)?  Again, our Rabbis thought of a lesson that is surprising relevant. The ark symbolized Torah study. The cherubs remind us to consider ourselves as young children when it comes to studying Torah - to study with amazement, freshness, openness, appreciation. No matter how much you know, compared to what there is still to learn, you have just begun. For this reason a Torah scholar is always called a Talmid Chochom - a student of a wise man. The greater wisdom one has, the more one realizes that he is lacking wisdom. The greatness of Jewish life is that while the Mishkan gave way to the Temple in the year 1,000. The Temple itself has been destroyed for nearly 2,000 years; yet we continue to struggle for meaning in these ancient pages. Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Michael S. Siegel

Greeting the New Day in America

Decidedly religious imagery framed today's inauguration, as it has done in every other inauguration before it. One could not help but note God's presence, whether standing at the Capitol as I did or watching the turning of history on TV with virtually every other American. God's blessing was invoked at the beginning of the ceremony and again at its conclusion; at a key point in between, President Barack Obama declared, "This is the source of our confidence--the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny." We Americans, regardless of creed, seem united in the recognition that we need God's blessing if we are to live up to what we wish for ourselves. As President George Washington put it some 220 years ago in the pleasingly indirect and humble language characteristic of our nation's founders, "It would be peculiarly improper to omit in this first official act my fervent supplications to the Almighty Being who rules over the universe . . . Every step by which we have advanced to the character of an independent nation seems to have been distinguished by some token of providential agency." Standing in the cold this morning, as the entire country seemed able to see every hopeful breath it collectively exhaled, my thoughts turned to the blessings that religiously observant Jews recite every morning. Those "blessings of the dawn," like good inaugural addresses, begin with the obvious facts of the situation--opening one's eyes, putting on clothes, stretching one's limbs, rising to meet the day--and make of those facts an occasion for both thanksgiving and responsibility.  Thanksgiving, because here we are again, alive with a new day's opportunity before us. Responsibility, because the ability to see the light, stretch out, and stand tall, confers the obligation to join God in helping others do the same. Barack Obama has been teaching and preaching for close to two years now that blessing obligates one to action and that action itself is an enormous blessing. For right action builds community, makes life worthwhile, and nurtures hope. The new president reiterated that lesson today. The rhythm of the inaugural rite seemed familiar to me because of the prayers that we Jews say daily. Men, and many women, stand clothed in prescribed head covering, tallit, and tefillin, to thank God again and again that we have lived to see the morning and embrace its responsibilities. Hundreds of thousands of us stood in reflection at the Capitol this morning, fortified against the cold in long underwear, sweaters, and earmuffs. We joined with the new president in considering what it would take to get through the multiple crises that face the country and the world. I reflected too on the idea that the ritual recital of hope and recall of blessing somehow helps us to change things for the better. Remembering past crises survived or overcome assists us in confronting new crises; giving voice to past expression of resolve impels us--in John F. Kennedy's words--to "go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own." The reassurance that we are not wasting our breath at such moments of rededication, and will not be wasting our efforts in the years ahead, is utterly crucial to our work for change. It forms no small part of the comfort and empowerment conveyed by the inauguration's ritual words and images. If God's work must truly be our own, according to the Scripture we hold sacred, it follows that God's work can be ours and that our work can be God's. "We the people" possess the authority to challenge state power in the name of a Higher Power. Our government can claim the highest authority for state action only so long as it secures human rights and does not abuse them. Finally, the work belongs to all of us. Every single American has the same claim on our country, our president, and one another. This is implicit in the inaugural's ritual recitation. Our new president, more than many others, seems to have a pragmatic sense of limitation built into his exultant rhetoric. The master of "Yes, we can!" has read his Reinhold Niebuhr. He knows that " . . . the challenges we face are real . . . they will not be met easily...." Times such as these are when we need each other (and effective government) the most. President Obama, we can be sure, knows well the Exodus narrative that Jews are reading in shul this week. God promises deliverance but warns that it will take many plagues to bend the will of Pharoah towards freedom. But the moment will come. It does come. History is like this, the Rabbis taught: generation after generation and event after event accumulate without apparent recompense for sacrifice. History seems to lack purpose. It appears stalled. Then, "all of a sudden," something happens: things move.  Setbacks follow. There is more work to do, more suffering to bear, more wilderness to slog through; but the fact that redemption happened once gives us hope. We wake up to the blessing of a new day and, free to stretch and stand tall, we accept the privilege to open eyes and push back walls. History seems malleable once again. It was amazing at today's inauguration how many Republicans joined Democrats in the determination to rejoice at the election of an African American as president. It was remarkable too how many people in the crowd seemed ready to trust that this time important things will really change. It was as if all Americans joined in the blessings Jews recite daily. Thank God for vigor restored to the weary, the sense that we have all that we need for one more effort to do right.  God's help and one another are all that is needed, along with a little wisdom and a leader who brings out the best in all of us. Chancellor Arnold Eisen Jewish Theological Seminary

Shabbat Learning

Our sages raised a very logical question regarding the following verses from the story of Moshe's birth at the beginning of the second chapter of Sefer Shemot (The Book of Exodus) in this week's parasha, Parashat Shemot:     1 And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took to wife a daughter of Levi. 2 And the woman conceived, and bore a son... The sages asked how it is possible that the Torah records the birth of Moshe immediately after the marriage of his parents without mentioning the births of his two older siblings Aaron and Miriam? They reached a surprising conclusion:  This must be the second time that Amram and Yokheved (the parents of Aaron, Miriam and Moshe) married each other.  This midrash explains that once Pharaoh decreed the deaths of the newborn Israelite sons, all of the Israelites agreed not to bring any more children into the world and divorced each other.  Such a radical course of action serves to underscore the intensity of their despair. However, their daughter, Miriam confronts her parents and the elders of the enslaved Israelites accusing them of taking steps even worse than those demanded by Pharaoh's decree.  Pharaoh only demanded the deaths of the male babies - their decision guaranteed that there would not be any female Israelite children as well. Miriam convinces the separated couples to reunite and it is after the remarriage of her parents that Moshe is born. Miriam's greatness in this revision of the Biblical tale is her ability to lift the entire community out of their despair by offering them a different vision of the world than the one imposed on them by Pharaoh.  That is a great gift. As we follow the events of the terrible crisis still taking place in Israel and Gaza we too could reach the depths of despair attributed to our ancestors.  Learning the names of fallen Israeli soldiers, seeing the pictures of bloodied Palestinian children, wondering how synagogues in Chicago could be desecrated as has happened this past week - many have fallen into despair. But just as Miriam moved her community to reaffirm the good in this world, we too can be inspired by those who will not let their spirits be broken and remain steadfast in their belief that this war is just, that it will end, and that Jews and Arabs will one day live peacefully as neighbors in the Land of Israel.  This is the Israeli alternative to the Hamas vision of how the world should be.  It is a redemptive vision that can cure our despair. Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Matt Futterman

A MESSAGE FOR EVERY ADULT & CHILD, TEACHER & STUDENT FROM ANSHE EMET

Rabbi Siegel recently pointed out the irony of naming this week's parasha, "Va-yehi" ("He lived"), since we conclude our reading of the first book of the Torah and the saga of the patriarchs with a detailed description of the death of the final patriarch, Yaakov, as well as the death of his son, Yosef.  In that same d'var Torah (delivered last Sunday at the morning minyan) Rabbi Siegel also noted how so many respond to a personal tragedy - such as the death of a loved one - by rising  to the occasion in a way that not only reaffirms our commitment to core values but elevates us (as well as others) spiritually if not in other ways. I would like to take Rabbi Siegel's message one step further and point out that moments of stress, anxiety and tragedy often pave the way for emerging greatness.  During these last several weeks I have been in constant contact with  family and friends - especially my wife and children - first, as missiles launched from Gaza exploded next to them in Ashkelon and then when the soldiers among them (in particular our son, Itamar) were sent into Gaza to protect the citizens of Israel.  And - despite the tensions resulting from living under the threat of terrorist attacks - I have watched them rise to the occasion. I do not need to justify Israel's actions in this space - we all know how tragic this war is and we all know that Israel had no other choice in order to defend its population.  But I am concerned that with the negative media blitz generated by biased media critics that our young people do not enjoy enough opportunities to take pride in Israel, its leaders and its people - and are taught instead to reject the legitimacy of the Jewish state and its policies. Therefore we need to speak about the great things done - even in wartime - by our Israeli cousins.  The fact that humanitarian aid was allowed into Gaza is a fact that must be learned by our young people.  The fact that the Israeli government took measures to text message and call the residents of Gaza prior to attacking their neighborhoods in order to give them time to evacuate and save their lives proves that Israel is not out to destroy the Palestinian people - only the ruthless terrorists. We need to inform our young people about the impact on the lives of Israelis of hearing 10-20 air raid sirens per day signaling that they need to move into the shelters and safe rooms within 15 seconds in order to guarantee their safety.  The attacks against Ashkelon, which began days before Israel began its air assault on Gaza, has resulted in my wife, Chana, our children and her parents spending more time in bomb shelters these last few weeks than we did during the many years we all lived in Ashkelon. And we need to celebrate our heroes in Israel.  Not only the young people proudly defending the country as soldiers in the IDF but those who voluntarily come from all over the country in order to bring hope to those sitting terrified in community shelters.  I am especially proud of the members of NOAM (Israel's USY) who abandoned the safety of their lives in different parts of the country and now sit in the Ashkelon shelters in order to calm and hug frightened children along with members of Kehillat Netzach Israel (our sister Masorti/Conservative synagogue in Ashkelon). We will do this - we will inform and educate ourselves and our young people.  They will know the truth about the conflict in Gaza by joining us at the rally which will take place this TONIGHT here at Anshe Emet Synagogue.  I urge every adult to come and to bring with you every child in your home so that they will know how precious Israel is to all of us.  When we speak of life and death matters we not only need to rally behind Israel in the war against the terrorists of Gaza, we need to cultivate the pride and love for Israel which needs to be permanently etched in the hearts of our children and youth. We learn from our sages in Pirke Avot, "In a place where there no are people, try to be the person."  We must step up and rise to the occasion by filling the void with our bodies and our voices tonight, Thursday, January 8 at 7:00 PM.(please see the very next article for more information!) With love of Israel, Rabbi Matt Futterman