Haunting Verses
It is an unpleasant subject to write about and an unpleasant subject to contemplate. Worse yet, is the unpleasant reality.
The Torah portion we've just read tells us of blessings and curses. The curses bring on fear, shock, and negative awe. The text tries to steer us from the bad through fear, and to tempt us to good through the promise of reward.
The structure of this annual text is considered, by some, to be archaic; an outdated religious and philosophical stance.
Consider: do we live in a world in which groups which act well are rewarded? Do individuals acting well seem to be rewarded? (If a ‘good’ farmer lives among ‘evil’ farmers, will the heavens open up and drop rain only on his farm?). It's not how the world operates.
Our world, of late, is not operating in so many of the ways we would like to see. Aside from invasive war which appears to be unprovoked, are attacks on children, which are by definition unprovoked.
What does our “archaic, antiquated out of date” Torah portion describe?
Hauntingly, in its curses, we find a society veering so to the negative that it devours its own children. A society which could devour its own children is considered so shocking, so jarring to the Jewish mind, that in Jewish tradition we whisper these verses in synagogue rather than chant them aloud for all to hear like the rest of the Torah.
I don't need to touch anything political here, don’t have to touch the Left Wing or the Right Wing. We are beyond the realm of pro-regulation and anti-regulation. The only question is how we tolerate a social set-up in which children are unsafe to go to school.
The issue isn't guns or not-guns, rules or not-rules, permits or not-permits. The issue is how do we maintain a societal structure in which the everyday ritual of going to school, coming home at lunchtime, and going back for afternoon classes is normal and uneventful and unexplosive.
3,300 years ago we wrote that it's a curse - a curse! - to be a group that devours its children. Startlingly, sadly, not an antiquated 3,300 year old verse after all.
Rabbi Mark Biller
Pesach Sheni
It is more than a cliche.
We turn to the Torah as a source of our values, as our north star for guidance of the tone we want to set for life. Which brings us to a phenomenon we have just lived through on the calendar.
Not lived through very loudly. It's not at all well known. But it's on the calendar nevertheless, and it is sourced directly from the Torah, the Five Books of Moses.
Pesach Sheni.
The word 'Pesach' (Passover), we all know. That second word, 'Sheni', means, well, second - a second Passover (!).
In a Jewish world in which our Passover shopping starts weeks ahead, in which plans to bring children home for the event get set in motion, and where tables are piled high with centuries-old symbolic foods, and around which grown adults stumble, year after year, over words they learned as children .… we know about Pesach!
But a second Passover?! A Passover after the Passover during which we eat, gather and remember? And it's from the Torah?
Yes, exactly.
For those who were not in a state of ritual purity at the right time, or could not get to the Temple in time for Passover, a follow up date, one month later, is prescribed - by G-d and Moses (Numbers 9:10-12) - as a second chance for those who couldn't make it.
"A second chance for those who couldn't make it"
The phrase is a challenge to every perfectionist in the crowd, to anyone who's ever judged anybody for being late or missing a deadline. It's a challenge to the premise that life is in our control at all times and that we must measure up continually because we believe it is all in our control.
Life. Is. Not.
G-d and Moses spread the word. There's a second chance in case you couldn't make it. Exactly a month after the first Pesach we all know and love. For those who couldn't make it in time for the First Passover, G-d offers a second chance.
It's a message writ clear. Our Torah is aspirational and its high goals are a good thing. Our Torah, G-d and our Jewish culture then understand human life and allow for the second attempt at reaching those great, high goals.
Shabbat Shalom and blessings,
Rabbi Mark Biller
Picasso, the Rabbis and This Time of Year
When multiple people come to a similar conclusion, it's often prudent to take note. It may mean a universal truth is calling.
This week, because Passover is about freedom and Shavuot is about receiving the Torah and setting goals and purposes, and because we are in between the two, I asked committee members to consider what gives them a sense of freedom, and what gives them a sense of purpose.
After a few minutes we went around the room to share our answers.
The freedom responses involved physical mobility, being in a position to make decisions and access to rights. The responses to purpose had to do with helping others, helping organize things for others, and being able to implement ideas which could impact others.
As you may know we count "The Days Of The Omer" during this time of year. These are a series of days prescribed in the Bible, during which we count upwards from the second night of Passover to Shavuot (Sinai and receiving the Torah). The rabbis, in wondering about this counting, note that freedom for its own sake doesn't have too deep a meaning. Freedom is great, but freedom for what, is the question! Freedom to live how? Freedom to create what?
For the Israelites, it's when they received the Torah at Sinai, 49 days after their liberation from Egypt, that their newfound freedom came into focus. They now had a freedom to serve a higher ideal, freedom to create a new society, freedom to undo the trauma of slavery, and freedom to imbue the world with a new kind of vision.
What was true for the Rabbis and for the Israelites is true for us. Freedom is wonderful but adding a focus gives purpose to our time and energy.
It is no accident that in our meeting each of us wanted physical, emotional and action-oriented freedom …. and then for each of us purpose meant carrying out the things we were now free to do, in a way that could impact others - and experience the good feelings that came with that impact.
I came across a wonderful quote by Pablo Picasso that says it all:
“The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose is to give it away.”
Now go seek that out.
Blessings and Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Biller
Let My People Go...
"Let my people go" is probably one of the most famous phrases in all history, literature and religion. It frames our Seder and our Pesach celebrations.
Like some ancient soundbite, it comes down to us through the ages, the banner, we believe, which heralds our coming into the world as the people of progress and freedom.
Like many other soundbites, it is a fractured piece of a greater truth. We hang on to it because it feels punchy and full of meaning. It is a partial phrase, however, that belies a deeper message and a deeper truth.
So, why do I call it a 'fracture'? Surely "let my people go" is a great message! It's a reminder of the equality of all human beings, a reminder that one nation has no right to oppress another, a reminder that no single person has the right to oppress any other being.
"Let my people go" is a partial call. Let them go to what? Let us go to what? Freedom is instinctive, instinctively wonderful …. but to what end? To what purpose or course? How do we structure where we go to with the new freedom? What is the point?
The end of Moses' famous declaration from G-d is: "... so they may serve me".
From a yoke of a Pharaoh who wants to humiliate and break down and abuse and enrich himself at your expense, comes a G-d who says I insist you rest every seven day, you your cattle, all the strangers among you.
From a Pharaoh who enslaved the people and had instant rights over their life and death, comes a G-d who says if you even break a tooth or an arm of an indentured servant, you must set them free and send the out with animals and the best of your belongings.
The missing ".... that they may serve Me" is the invitation to a best life, to a life of meaning.
In a continent and an age beset by depression, anxiety , need for counseling, therapy, and medication, and abuses of food, alcohol and perhaps even leisure time, comes a call for freedom …. with purpose!
Put that in your mind as you sit down to a Seder, or a meal, or however you celebrate this Pesach.
Blessings,
Rabbi Mark Biller
Somewhere Between Purim & Passover
Sometimes the lesson comes from what is not. Sometimes the lesson comes from what is.
And sometimes we need to navigate between the two.
Purim is a time for masks. At a deeper level, it deals with what is hidden.
Our heroine is named Esther, rooted to the word ‘Hester’ which means ‘hidden and covered’. Her Uncle Mordechai warns her, when she’s chosen as Queen, to not say who her people are. Several times in the Megillah we are reminded that she has not said where she comes from.
At the pronouncement of Haman’s evil decree, Mordechai publicly wears ashes and sackcloth. Embarrassed, Esther sends clothes to cover up his public display. He refuses them.
Most significantly, for a scroll read on a public Jewish holiday, there is no mention of G-d’s name anywhere in the ten chapters of the Book of Esther!
It is a book and a story which are predicated on coincidences, which lead to coincidences, which lead to uncovered secrets, which leads to salvation.
The point of this book is that G-d is not always obvious about things, that events take place – and we are asked if we can see the Divine in the events. Where many see coincidence can we see purpose, purposeful unfolding?
Conversely, a month from now we will celebrate Passover. It’s a time in which the Torah proclaims the work of ‘G-d’s outstretched arm’ to be in action.
Passover is about the unbelievable, yet the obvious, happening. It is David and Goliath, it’s The Six Day War – all the things that seem like they can never happen – and then they do!
- Have you noticed suddenly that things have unfolded in a way that has benefited your life? That’s Purim.
- Have you had an impossible dream visibly come true for you? That’s Passover.
Chag Sameach – Happy Holiday in the subtle unfoldings of Purim, in the coming explosions of Passover.
Wishing you richness in the soft, subtle moments of your life, wishing you richness in the grand moments of your life experience.
Blessings to all,
Rabbi Mark Biller
The Difference Between Joy and Happiness
Jackson was released from jail this week after 25 years of what was to be a life sentence for a crime he apparently did not commit.
He lives in one of the few states that allowed non-unanimous jury convictions. That allowance was originally designed to circumvent the power of any potential Black juror.
Jackson was convicted on circumstantial evidence, even though there was proof he was not present at the scene of the crime. The testimony used to convict him was provided by a man who changed his story three times - and who finally gave the damning testimony in exchange for a shorter sentence for himself.
Aside from his mentioning all the electronics changes in the world, what struck me while listening to Jackson’s interview was his comment about how grateful he was to be with his mother, who had been supportive of him all these years. He expressed his lack of anger or resentment, and his repeated gratitude for being with loved ones
Jackson commented on the difference between joy and happiness, which is what I most want to mention today.
To Jackson, happiness is a response to obtaining something or having something, or seeing something completed.
Joy, he believes, is a quality that's not dependent on anything happening outside of the self. It is an inner state of being.
I can only say I was amazed listening to this man. To so many of us, he would have strong grounds for anger, resentment and mistrust.
Not only was he not focused on those negative emotions, but he had something to teach us all on that broadcast; joy is not dependent on outer happenings.
Humbled, I thought if this man can feel joy, surely I can aspire more consistently in that direction and perhaps so can we all.
Shabbat Shalom
Blessings
Rabbi Biller
Split Loyalties In Our Own Hearts
The most difficult part of being a Jew is sorting Jewish values when they conflict. We are tied to memories of our many ancestors’ sufferings in Ukraine. Our Jewish hearts, at the same time, go out to those presently being attacked and violated.
What do we do when our hearts are torn in two directions?
Mussar is a body of Jewish study through which we reflect on values and character attributes. It is a significant Jewish tool in one’s quest to become a balanced being and more polished soul.
I turned to a dear friend, Steve Lewis, who has invested years in the study of Mussar. In the throes of the emotional and moral push-pulls of the Ukraine situation, we are affected by strong family stories, and at the same time do not want to harshly over-judge the present generations in Ukraine. I asked Steve if Mussar had a schema through which to sift the issues.
A primary Mussar character trait, or Middah, as Steve reminded me, is ‘Judging Others Favorably’.
We often judge quickly and harshly without knowing the full context of the situation. We may be judging current Ukranians negatively for the transgressions of some of their ancestors. This is not only possibly unfair to Ukranians, but feeds a negative world view in our own mind – an unhealthy way to live.
Another well known Mussar trait (or Middah) is the well-known chesed/ lovingkindness – having compassion and empathy for what current civilians in Ukraine are experiencing.
Do we remember the stories our families have told us? Absolutely. Do we honor the pain and travails of our past family members? Absolutely.
But in the Jewish way – in fact living out one of Judaism’s strongest messages – we look into the present and future with our widest heart, greatest vision and the kindest view of our fellow human beings possible.
Shabbat Shalom,
Blessings,
Rabbi Mark Biller
A Story of Personal Uplift
My Dad & The Town That Never Saw A Jew
(Only 350 Miles from where a School Board banned a book about the Holocaust this year)
The little town of Whitewell, Tennessee never saw a Jew.
A Grade 8 class there, stunned to learn of the Holocaust, set up a world-wide campaign to collect
6,000,000 paperclips to understand.
( Dutch people wore paperclips on their lapels as a sign of resistance).
The class and the school grew in tolerance, love and connection.
My Dad was part of a Jewish Motorcycle Group - 'Yids On Wheels', or YOWIE's, as they called them-
selves - that created a motorcycle ride to Whitwell.
As the motorcycles drove towards the town, more and more older Jewish motorcyclists joined the ride.
My Dad and his group raised $60,000 to donate to that school in Whitwell for future programming to
teach love, to teach kindness, to teach tolerance.
My father described the scene:
A long line of Jewish men in their sixties and seventies on motorcycles.
The road into town lined with all the non-Jewish residents clapping, cheering them on.
The strong Jewish men in their 60's and 70's, with tears streaming down their faces, riding into the wind, and into town.
The main school auditorium set up for the reception.
Down one side of the reception room were long tables filled with Kosher Corned Beef imported from somewhere, for the
Jewish riders.
Down the other side of the auditorium were tables lined with Pork 'n Beans, for the townsfolk.
The entire town showed up.
A town where there had never been a Jewish person, came together to receive a long line of Jewish men, on motorcycles,
from across North America -
- coming to present them with a cheque for $60,000, to be used for more teaching and discovery and connections to all
humanity.
Proud to be the son of the Dad who was part of that lineup.
Proud that Whitwell grew in its development, standing to receive such a group.
Rabbi Mark Biller
Looking Up!
The most difficult part of being a Jew is sorting Jewish values when they conflict. We are tied to memories of our many ancestors’ sufferings in Ukraine. Our Jewish hearts, at the same time, go out to those presently being attacked and violated.
What do we do when our hearts are torn in two directions?
Mussar is a body of Jewish study through which we reflect on values and character attributes. It is a significant Jewish tool in one’s quest to become a balanced being and more polished soul.
I turned to a dear friend, Steve Lewis, who has invested years in the study of Mussar. In the throes of the emotional and moral push-pulls of the Ukraine situation, we are affected by strong family stories, and at the same time do not want to harshly over-judge the present generations in Ukraine. I asked Steve if Mussar had a schema through which to sift the issues.
A primary Mussar character trait, or Middah, as Steve reminded me, is ‘Judging Others Favorably’.
We often judge quickly and harshly without knowing the full context of the situation. We may be judging current Ukranians negatively for the transgressions of some of their ancestors. This is not only possibly unfair to Ukranians, but feeds a negative world view in our own mind – an unhealthy way to live.
Another well known Mussar trait (or Middah) is the well-known chesed/ lovingkindness – having compassion and empathy for what current civilians in Ukraine are experiencing.
Do we remember the stories our families have told us? Absolutely. Do we honor the pain and travails of our past family members? Absolutely.
But in the Jewish way – in fact living out one of Judaism’s strongest messages – we look into the present and future with our widest heart, greatest vision and the kindest view of our fellow human beings possible.
Shabbat Shalom,
Blessings,
Rabbi Mark Biller