Vayetzei 5775

And [Leah] conceived again, and bore a son; and she said, This time will I give thanks to the Lord; therefore she called his name Judah: and she left off bearing (Gen. 29:35). This week’s Torah portion has no shortage of birth stories – eleven of Jacob’s twelve sons are born in the course of the twenty-one year span of this parshah – but Leah’s pronouncement upon the birth of her fourth son stands out: what does she mean by give thanks to the LORD? Why only now, with her fourth and final son?

For Rashi (France, 1040-1105), Leah knew through prophecy that Jacob was destined to have twelve sons. Since he had two wives and two concubines, if the sons were evenly distributed the women would give birth to three apiece. Leah’s first three sons, then, were merely what she “deserved;” with the birth of her fourth son, she recognizes that she has received something to which she was not strictly entitled, and therefore offers thanks to God.

Leah sees that, in comparison to her sister and their maidservants, she has drawn a larger share of the sons (and, therefore, social standing – if not necessarily their husband’s love), and she is grateful for her ascendance over her rivals. I have sympathy for Leah: it’s no secret that her husband loves her sister more (29:30); the Torah twice describes her as hated by her husband (29:31, 29:33) and she explicitly states her hope that bearing sons will win Jacob’s love (29:32). The Torah’s compression of this information into four consecutive verses only heightens the pain Leah must have felt. In the context of such a poisonous family atmosphere, it’s not hard to imagine Leah incessantly comparing herself to the other women in the household, fiercely competing for Jacob’s affection.

Understandable, perhaps, but not exactly uplifting. Biblical heroes are far from perfect, but we still look to them as paradigms through which we can understand the world we live in – and I am troubled by Rashi’s vision of a zero-sum, dog-eat-dog competition within the family. I take comfort, then, in the words Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra (Spain, 1089-1164) imagines Leah saying at Judah’s birth: “I will give thanks to God, because I desire no more; I thank God for giving me all of this, and it is enough for me.”

The subtle but crucial difference between how Rashi and Ibn Ezra read the verse lies not in the fact of Leah’s gratitude or satisfaction, but in the means by which she develops that sense of gratitude. For Rashi, Leah thanks God for giving her more than the other women; in Ibn Ezra’s imagination, she expresses gratitude for having more than she expected for herself.

In this way, Leah anticipates the words of our Sages of Blessed Memory: “Who is wealthy? One who is satisfied with his portion” (Pirkei Avot 4.1). In Ezra’s Leah finds her gratitude, and ultimately her happiness, in herself, without comparison to others. As we join the rest of America in celebrating Thanksgiving, our parshah offers us the chance to reflect on the foundations of our own gratitude. True happiness, our tradition suggests, arises out of a sense of “enough,” knowing that our needs are met and, perhaps, we have even been graced with a little bit extra.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Thanksgiving,
Rabbi Abe Friedman

Toldot 5775

This week, we read of the origin stories of twin brothers, Jacob and Esav. Of course our tradition’s preference is for our ancestor Jacob, our hero. And like any superhero, our protagonist Jacob has one main flaw – Jacob can be manipulative of others, and that manipulation comes back to haunt him.

The first narrative that describes Jacob’s actions begins with Esav coming back from a field, famished. And Jacob is making a delicious nazid, a delicious stew. The Hebrew is vague as to what kind of stew this is. And when Esav sees it, he begs his brother (Genesis 25:30):

הַלְעִיטֵ֤נִי נָא֙ מִן־הָֽאָדֹ֤ם הָֽאָדֹם֙ הַזֶּ֔ה כִּ֥י עָיֵ֖ף אָנֹ֑כִי
Please, give me a gulp of the red-stuff, that red-stuff, for I am so weary!

I offer you the literal translation of Dr. Everett Fox so that you notice Esav’s language. He doesn't call the stew a nazid like the narrator calls it. He asks for ha’adom ha’adom, the red-stuff, the red-stuff. Either he is so tired that he is delusional and cannot even identify what the food truly is, or he is in the process of fainting, and is stuttering his words.
And it is at this point that Jacob had a few options – he could ignore or reject his brother; he could generously offer food; or he could make a deal over the beloved birthright. Jacob chooses the third option.
To this action, and the subsequent deception of his father Isaac for the birthright, the rabbis respond by saying midah keneged midah – that measure for measure, Jacob meets deception later in his life. He is deceived in the marriage of Rachel, he is deceived with his son Joseph, he is deceived in every element of his later life.

Our rabbis teach us (Mishna Avot 4:2):
מִּצְוָה גּוֹרֶרֶת מִצְוָה, וַעֲבֵרָה גוֹרֶרֶת עֲבֵרָה
A mitzvah initiates another mitzvah, and a sin initiates another sin.

And this teaching surely seems to apply to the story of Jacob.

As we ourselves begin the Thanksgiving season, we may not be approached by a brother who physically comes up to us, desperate for food. But we know that there are so many people in desperate need, in our immediate community, and throughout the world. So what will you do this time of year, to support others in their need for food, to initiate more mitzvot in our world?

This past Sunday, a group of 6th-8th graders baked over a dozen pies for the Night Ministry, supporting thousands of members of our community who otherwise might not be able to have a festive Thanksgiving meal. And in a few weeks, our Religious School is taking part in the Lakeview Pantry’s Toy Drive. Instead of treating this season as a time just to think about what we personally will get as presents, we are celebrating our community’s desire to give to people in need.

So as you approach Thanksgiving and Hanukkah, I hope that you’ll consider how you can give and share, and how to teach that to family and friends, so that we do not fall into the same trap that our ancestor Jacob did.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Russo

Vayera 5775

Vayera 5775

First---my favorite joke.
A Rabbi and his wife were waiting out the terrible flood in their town.  The Rabbi prayed for the rain to stop.  As the water rose higher and higher, he and his wife were forced to go up to the highest level of the house.  They looked out the window and a lifeboat came to the house----“Rabbi, you and your wife have to get in.  The levy has broken and you’ll drown.” His wife got in the boat but the Rabbi insisted that his prayers would stop the rain.  The lifeboat left.  The rain continued, the Rabbi prayed, the water rose and the Rabbi fled to the roof.  Another lifeboat came by.  “Rabbi, this is the last lifeboat.  Get in.  You’ll drown.” “No,” said the Rabbi, “My prayers will stop the rain.”  The lifeboat left; the Rabbi prayed, the rain continued and the Rabbi drowned!  When he got to heaven, he demanded an audience with God.  He went before the Almighty and asked why God hadn’t heard his prayers and stopped the rain.  “What’s the matter?” asked God.  “Didn’t you get the 2 lifeboats I sent?”
(With thanks to Rabbi Siegel who told me that joke about 15 years ago.)

Now, let’s talk about the prophet Elisha, the central figure in this week’s Haftarah for Parasha Vayera.  We learn of two women he helps.  In the first story, Elisha’s miracle allows a poor widow to retain her dignity by having her pour oil from her small jug into borrowed vessels---the small jug miraculously holds enough oil to fill many many vessels of oil and the woman can then sell the oil to support her family.  Elisha has helped her to help herself.

In the second story, a wealthy Shunemite woman who has offered Elisha hospitality on numerous occasions becomes pregnant after Elisha tells her she will bear a son. (Like Sarah in this week’s Torah portion, she has an elderly husband and doesn’t believe she will have a child.) She indeed bears a son who, after growing up, takes ill one day and dies.  The woman rushes to find Elisha and will not leave him until he agrees to come home with her since she believes he can heal her son.   Elisha follows her home and does heal the boy.

What are we to learn from all these stories?

These are all stories of faith and hope and that we can have miracles in our everyday life simply by asking for help or accepting help when it is offered.  Elisha won’t be waiting for us around the next corner, but our friends, our family and our community are there---sometimes with vessels to donate that we can fill or sometimes helping us fill those vessels.  We probably won’t see a flaming chariot descend from the heavens but we may get a meal from a caring friend when chemo has left us too drained to move.   Perhaps we will have a chance encounter with a bicyclist who warns us of a treacherous turn in the upcoming path which keeps us from having a terrible accident.  Or we may get an offer of a part time job that will put food on the table, allowing us to maintain our dignity. 

Miracles surround us every day.  We must be open to the possibility that miracles can happen to us and be ready to act. And we have a choice---we can be skeptical and dismiss those who want to help (we can send the lifeboat away) or we can accept their help, their advice, their guidance and get in the boat!! 
The choice is ours.

Shabbat Shalom,
Debby Lewis