Vayechi 5775

At the center of this week's parasha we find the blessings that Yaakov (Jacob) bestows – first upon Ephraim and Menasheh, and then on the rest of his children. The first few tribes, though, are not blessed, but instead are cursed. The first blessing that we read is bestowed upon Yehuda (Judah).

Yehuda is blessed in various ways: as the recipient of his brothers’ praise, as overtaking his enemies, as having great might, as holding the ruler’s staff, and more (Genesis 49:8-12). Why is it that Yehuda receives this great blessing, and not the brothers before him?

It seems that the answer lies in the transformation of Yehuda’s character throughout the book of Genesis. Yehuda as a youngster is willing to sell his own brother Joseph in to slavery (Gen. 37:27). It is only after Yehuda learns a powerful lesson from his daughter-in-law, Tamar, and admits, tzadka mimeni (Gen. 38:26) that Tamar was more righteous, more just than he, that Yehuda learns that he must begin to stand up for those who are vulnerable.

And so, in last week’s portion, Vayigash, Yehuda begins a massive speech, with a heart-wrenching plea to save his brother Benjamin in front of the Egyptian viceroy, who unbeknownst to Yehuda is Yosef (Joseph). The Biblical scholar Yochanan Muffs describes this mode of standing up for those that are guilty in his influential essay, “Who will stand in the breach” (in his book Love and Joy). It features a model of the prophet whose key role is not a scolder or occasional comforter, but rather is the defender of the people. Yehuda has the chance to put his word to his father to the ultimate test. “Take me and not my brother,” he insists.

Yehuda receives the blessings of being respected by his fellows, and of leadership, because he was willing to stand in the breach. And we, the Jewish people, live the life of Judah every time we recognize ourselves as a people, as Yehudim, as his namesake. As Yehudim, we stand in the breach for those who are most vulnerable.

With this in mind, we at Anshe Emet are honored to host ONE Northside, various churches and organizations, and more on Sunday, January 18th, from 3;00 - 5:00 p.m., when we will talk about our respective faiths, the legacy of Dr. King, and systematic injustices in our community related to racism and gender inequality. We will also learn about how we can begin battling against these inequities. We’ll conclude with some food, breaking bread together, as we reflect on how to make change together. So please save the date, so that we can join together, living as descendants of Yehuda, as people who stand in the breach.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Russo

With thanks to Rabbi Zach Silver for quoting sections of his D'var Torah related to the theme of standing in the breach.

Vayigash 5775

Bless You

Toward the end of parashat Vayigash, Joseph brings his father and brothers for an audience with Pharaoh. Pharaoh’s meeting with Jacob is brief and emotionally intense, and at the end, just before leaving, Jacob blesses Pharaoh.

Rashi, commenting on Jacob’s blessing, notes that Jacob acted “according to the way of anyone who departs from an important person, blessing him and taking leave” (Rashi, Genesis 47:10). What does this concept of a parting blessing suggest about the nature of human relationships?

In one of my favorite passages from the Talmud, Rav Nahman and Rabbi Yitzhak are about to depart from one another when Rav Nahman asks Rabbi Yitzhak for a blessing.

Rabbi Yitzhak said to him: I will tell you a parable. To what is this matter comparable? To one who was walking through a desert and who was hungry, tired, and thirsty. He found a tree whose fruits were sweet and whose shade was pleasant, and a stream of water flowed beneath it. He ate from the fruits of the tree, drank from the water in the stream, and sat in the shade of the tree.

And when he wished to leave, he said: Tree, tree, with what shall I bless you? If I say to you that your fruits should be sweet, your fruits are already sweet; if I say that your shade should be pleasant, your shade is already pleasant; if I say that a stream of water should flow beneath you, a stream of water already flows beneath you. Rather, I will bless you as follows: May it be God’s will that all saplings which they plant from you be like you.

So it is with you: with what shall I bless you? If I bless you with Torah, you already have Torah; if I bless you with wealth, you already have wealth; if I bless you with children, you already have children. Rather, may it be god’s will that your offspring shall be like you (Ta’anit 5b-6a; tr. Steinsaltz).

We learn three things from Rabbi Yitzhak’s blessing of Rav Nahman. First, in order to give a blessing, one must be aware of the other person’s gifts as well as his needs, so that the blessing addresses the whole person. Second, a meaningful relationship demands that each person cultivate an awareness of gratitude for what the other provides. And third, in order to fully realize the inherent potential in the relationship, we must be willing to express our gratitude clearly and directly to the other person.

The end of the secular year offers us an opportunity for reflection. As we take our leave of 2014, it’s worth asking: what are the blessings we take from the year that is ending, and to whom should we offer those blessings? May it be a year of life, health, and peace for all of us.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy New Year,

Rabbi Abe Friedman

Miketz 5775

The Hard Work that Makes for Miracles

Yesterday, hearing the news that Alan Gross was released from a Cuban prison and was enroute to the United States, I began to image how he must have felt at that moment.  How accustomed he had become to prison life and its monotony. The difficult process of managing hope in an impossible situation and suddenly, with little or no warning to find himself on a plane with his wife and a number of American leaders must have been stunning. How must it have felt to learn that the Pope was instrumental in your release? As one of Alan Gross’ relatives said in an interview: “it is our Hanukkah miracle.”

It is noteworthy that our Torah reading this week features Joseph’s release from prison, and is always read on Shabbat Hanukkah. The Torah portion is called Mikketz based on the opening words of the reading. “Vayehi Miketz Shinatayim” : “At the end of two years’ time”. The Rabbis consider the word usage and come to the conclusion that the change in Joseph’s circumstances would be comparable to a light coming at the end of a period of darkness. One day Joseph was in an Egyptian prison lost to his family without the possibility of freedom and the next day he finds himself standing before the throne of Pharaoh and soon thereafter becoming the Grand Vizier of Egypt. It must have felt like a miracle. Surely, this was Joseph’s conclusion as well. He understood himself as a representative of God’s message when he told Pharaoh: “Not I! God will see to Pharaoh’s welfare.” The fact is that Joseph had already laid the foundation for his own salvation in the manner in which he interpreted the dreams of the Butler and the Cupbearer.

When the Macabees stood on the Temple Mount and rededicated the Beit Hamikdash they too understood the miracle of their victory. They had defeated an army far greater in number and in power.  However, the victory would not have been possible without the faith and courage of a father and a band of brothers who inspired an entire nation to revolt against the Assyrian overlords. Like Joseph, the Hanukah miracle had God’s blessing would not have been possible without the hard work and sacrifice of courageous human beings.

Alan Gross was released from prison and the light in the darkness may have felt like it came suddenly but his return to America was the result of the hard work of his family, our government, and the Vatican.  What we perceive as miracles are often the result of the best of humanity. Miracles are the result of human faith, courage and ultimately the blessing of God. May Alan Gross’ release mark a new beginning in relations with Cuba and a period of light for the people of this region.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Michael Siegel

Vayeshev 5775

Was Joseph’s Coat Really Technicolor?

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s famous musical about Joseph colors (pun sadly intended) our interpretation of a specific phrase in this week’s parasha. We read (Genesis 37:3), that Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, and that he made for Joseph a ketonet passim. The question is, what exactly is a ketonet passim?

There are two main interpretations of this phrase. The first, voiced most notably by the Radak (12th century French rabbi), explains:

Radak- The ketonet (cloak) was made of passim passim (many stripes), with one stripe of one color and the next another color... and the ketonet was beautiful.

This, of course, supports the modern day musical’s assertion that the cloak was multi-colored.

But there is another interpretation that the cloak was not multi-colored at all! Passim could indicate that the garment had sleeves, and that it reached the ankles and wrists. So according to this view, what is so special about the cloak? Ibn Ezra explains that it was merukemet, it was embroidered beautifully.

No matter how we interpret this phrase, we understand the function of the cloak – that it was meant to make Joseph feel special. Either because it was multi-colored, it was embroidered beautifully, or because it was a unique gift from father to son. We all can identify that this gift had great power, that it made Joseph feel special; and we all are familiar with the exclusion that his brothers experienced immediately after this gift was given.

We at Anshe Emet want to learn from Jacob’s positive lesson of sharing gifts to make others feel special, while recognizing that we do not want ANYONE to feel excluded. At this time of year, as so many of us and our family members are accustomed to receiving gifts, we are going to be sharing gifts with others who may not be as fortunate. On Sunday, December 14th, our Anshe Emet Synagogue community will celebrate our annual Festival of the Arts, highlighting our Religious School students’ accomplishments in music, drama, and dance, and also including appearances by choirs from BZAEDS. But there is an admission fee: a toy for the Lakeview Pantry Toy Drive. We are asking people to bring a new or lightly used toy with them to the festival. So I hope that you follow in our students’ example of sharing gifts in ways that makes people feel as special as Joseph, while ensuring that others do not feel left out.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Russo

Vayishlach 5775

THE POWER OF A NAME

Zelda Schneerson Mishkofsky was born in Poland in 1914 and died in Israel in 1985. In her life she was recognized both for her abilities as a teacher and as a gifted poet.  It should be noted that Zelda was also part of a great Chasidic line. Her first cousin was last Lubavitcher Rebbe, Menachem Schneerson of blessed memory.   To say that this woman had yichus (family standing) would be an understatement.  It is of interest to that throughout her life her pen name was Zelda with no reference to her famous family name.  One can speculate as to her reasons but I believe that Zelda offered her reason in one of her best known poems: Each of Us has a Name.

EACH OF US HAS A NAME

Each of us has a name

given by God

and given by our parents

Each of us has a name

given by our stature and our smile

and given by what we wear

Each of us has a name

given by the mountains

and given by our walls

Each of us has a name

given by the stars

and given by our neighbors

Each of us has a name

given by our sins

and given by our longing

Each of us has a name

given by our enemies

and given by our love

Each of us has a name

given by our celebrations

and given by our work

Each of us has a name

given by the seasons

and given by our blindness

Each of us has a name

given by the sea

and given by

our death.

In the poem Zelda writes of the different ways that we earn our names whether it be from our parents, our work, or our God. Her message is that during the course of our lives we earn our names in a whole host of different ways.  We can intuit that by only using as he nomme de plume Zelda wanted to allow her writing speak for itself without being overshadowed by her famous family name.  In the end, Zelda teaches us, the name that matters is the one that we earn for ourselves in life.

This is a lesson that Jacob manifests in this week’s Torah portion.  Jacob is en route to face his brother Esau after more than 20 years.  His last encounter with his brother was stealing the birth blessing that rightfully belonged to Esau.  Because Esau spoke openly of his desire to kill his brother after Isaac’s death, Rebecca thought it best for Jacob to flee his home and family and set out on his own.  After many years Jacob has a large family and at God’s behest is returning to his homeland to face his brother.  Up until this point Jacob has been the living embodiment of his name, which means the heel of a foot.  In the course of time he has acted without regard to the feelings of others.  Moreover, he has emulated the heel which is the most crooked bone in the body.

The night before Jacob was to meet Esau an angel comes to wrestle with Jacob.  The struggle continues till day break when the angel begs to be released.  Jacob demands that the angel change his name before he would set him free.  He then received the name of Israel: the one who wrestled with God and prevailed.   The power of the name change was that Jacob worked to fulfill his new name.  While given by an angel it would still have to be earned.  Jacob would have to actualize his new name that very morning when he faced his brother again.  For the first time Jacob faced up to a situation without guile or subterfuge.  To the day he dies Jacob sent the rest of his life earning his new name.

Great art speaks throughout time. The poetry of Zelda may have been autobiographical, but it also speaks to each of us and to our ancestor who chose to live up to the name of Israel.  The same challenge remains for his descendents.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Michael Siegel