Tonight I Would Be Thankful Lord, For Any Dreams At All (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Mission In The Rain")

           One of the most important days of the year growing up in my Western Upstate New York home was Thanksgiving. As a child, and later a college student, my family, grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousin would always gather at my parents’ home. My mother would make a traditional Thanksgiving Dinner: turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, corn muffins, coleslaw.  We would watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving day parade, take a walk or play catch with my father, and if the weather was unusually warm (more than 10 degrees) we would go play nine holes of golf. When we finally sat down to dinner, my mother insisted that we go around the table sharing the one thing that we were most thankful for in the past year. Even while living in Toronto, our children always insist on driving to their grandparents for Thanksgiving. Whether we are there for only the day or for the long weekend, our children are always thankful for sharing that time with their grandparents.  This year will be a very different Thanksgiving. Yes, we will have the same food. However, only two of our children will be with us. My parents will remain in upstate New York. My mother-in-law will remain in California. There will be no Macy’s thanksgiving day parade.  One daughter will be in Israel, and one daughter will be with a college roommate sharing Thanksgiving dinner in New Jersey (she will arrive home on Sunday).  The pandemic has forced us to adjust our Thanksgiving expectations. So in response, we will take some time prior to eating our traditional Thanksgiving feast; we will gather on Zoom, and yes, my mother will insist that we do around sharing the one thing for which we are thankful in 2020, in this year of a pandemic, in this year of so much pain and suffering for so many.

          This week we read from Parsha VaYeitze. This week we read from Parshat VaYeitze. The focus of the narrative is upon Yaakov. Yaakov will grow up before our very eyes. He will leave home. Find a girl, get married. Actually, he will have several wives. He will get a job. He will have children, he will continue to work for his father in law and take on all the trappings of raising a family and living a middle-class life. Eventually, he will grow restless enough and realize that it is time to return home to his parents, and home to his covenantal land. 

          While we learn about Yaakov, we will also learn something about his wives: Rachel and Leah, his children, and many of the family dynamics. Yaakov is ready to become a father. Sadly his beloved Rachel is unable to conceive. However, Leah is able to conceive and gives Yaakov children even if Yaakov does not love her as he loves Rachel. VaYar Hashem Ki Snuah Leah Va’Yiftach et Rachma, V’Rachel  Akara - and Hashem saw that Leah was unloved, so he opened her womb, but Rachel remained barren. (29:31) For the next three Psukim (29:32-34), we read that Leah conceives and gives birth to sons. Leah names each son in succession and offers a reason for their name. She named the first Reuven because Hashem Ra’u- saw that she was unloved compared to Rachel. She names the second Shimon because Hashem Shama - heard that she was unloved. She named the third Levi because after three sons Yaakov will become YiLVeh - attached to her. After three sons, clearly, nothing had changed. She continued to feel unloved compared to her sister, and her husband wasn’t any more attached to her because she had given birth to these three sons. However in the fourth verse, 29:34, she conceives and gives birth to a fourth son. This time something is very different. VaTahar Od Va Teiled Ben VaTomer  Ha’PaAm Odeh et Hashem Al Kein Kra’ah Shmo Yehuda V Ta’amod Miledet - Again she conceived, and bore a son, and declared, ‘This time let me gratefully praise Hashem’ therefore she called his name Yehuda (Judah) then she stopped giving birth (29:35) Yehudah received his name because Leah understood gratitude. There was no ulterior motive, no agenda. Instead, a woman gave birth and was able to appreciate the blessing she just received: a happy healthy baby. Rashi explains that Leah understood that each of the wives was supposed to bear three sons. When Leah conceived and gave birth to a fourth son, she realized that she had received more than her share. Because she received more than her fair share she could appreciate her blessing and feel gratitude. The Talmudic Sages (ChaZaL) explains that this was the first time that anyone had demonstrated any type of gratitude towards God (Brachot 7b). Certainly, God had provided blessings and miracles prior to Leah’s giving birth a fourth time. Yet, only now she is capable of gratitude?  For Leah, according to the commentaries, gratitude is a result of a sense that one has received something beyond a fair share, beyond one’s “portion”.  This attitude contradicts the Sages who teach in Ethics of the Fathers (Pirkei Avot 4:1) that a rich person is someone who is happy with their portion. Underlying the Sages' understanding of being “rich” and of being “happy” is the idea that the person has gratitude for his/her portion. 

          Leah was blessed to have not one but four sons in those four Psukim. However, she didn’t feel blessed, she didn’t feel “rich”, or “happy” until she was able to express her gratitude by naming the fourth son Yehuda. The irony wasn’t lost on her sister, Rachel. She would have been thankful to give birth to one son, let alone four. Leah needed to give birth four times before she could get past her pain, and appreciate what she did have. Indeed, there has been discomfort, and pain during this past year. Our picture of Thanksgiving, of a multigenerational family gathering together to share a meal and giving thanks, had to be altered. This year, the thankfulness is distilled into the simplest level of gratitude. We are all thankful for health, for being able to share even this moment, even if it’s remote, with our loved ones. Sometimes having gratitude for even the smallest stuff gives us a bit of perspective in terms of what is most important.

Peace,

Rav Yitz 

The More My Brother Looks Like Me The Less I Understand (John Barlow & Bob Weir- "My Brother Esau")

           With her candidate’s campaign now complete, our daughter needed a rest. When we spoke about her post-campaign plans, I suggested that a two-week quarantine with unlimited wifi, meals served, no chores, access to exercise equipment, cable television, free laundry, and a coffee maker might permit her to relax, catch up on some sleep, as well as her friends. All the while she could professionally network.  By the time her quarantine would end, she could celebrate her birthday and celebrate U.S. Thanksgiving. For our son, his eldest sister’s presence would mean that he wouldn’t be the only child home while we celebrated American Thanksgiving. So, with an opportunity to quarantine, relax, and celebrate her birthday and Thanksgiving with at least one of her siblings,  our eldest daughter arrived home. Thankfully she feels fine.  During her quarantine, our other daughters, (University of Maryland and Israel) have called the two siblings who are here in Toronto. They have had several Whatsapp group video calls. We, the parents,  love watching the four of them speak together or video chat together. As I watch them and listen, I am amazed by their similarities and their differences. I am always amazed that these four nearly adult children who grew up in the same are four different personalities and different perspectives on the world. 

          This week, we read from Parsha is Toldot. We read of the birth of Esav and Yaakov. Even though they were twins, we learn that these boys couldn’t be any more different. Esav is a hunter Ish Sadeh – a man of the field, an outdoorsman, Yaakov is Ish Tam v’Yashav b’Ohalo – a simple man who resides in his tent. Yaakov is concerned with the Birthright, receiving blessings, and the spiritual world. Esav is concerned with eating, drinking, hunting, and the physical world. We learn that just like his father who experienced a famine in the land, Yitzchak also experienced a famine in the land. Unlike his father, Yitzchak doesn’t depart from the land but rather remains there, growing wealthy. Instead, Yitzchak re-opens the wells that had gone dry in his father’s day. The narrative then re-focuses upon Yitzchak and his family. Yitzchak, sensing his imminent death, wants to bless Esav. Rivka overhears this and tells Yaakov to pose as Esav in order to receive the blessing. Yaakov listens to his mother and dresses as Esav. Yaakov receives Yitzchak’s blessing. Esav discovers that he lost out on the blessing and he threatens to kill Yaakov. The Parsha concludes with Rivka telling Jacob to go to her brother’s home. She explains to  Yitzchak that Yaakov needs to leave home in order to find a wife. Prior to his departure, Yitzchak wants to bless Yitzchak.  So, prior to his departure Yaakov receives his the blessing of the Brit, the Covenant that God made with Avraham and Yitzchak. This covenantal blessing was never intended for Esav.  Yaakov leaves home. Esav moves away as well and decides to dwell with his uncle Ishmael among the Canaanites.

Two boys grew up in the same home with the same parents and instilled with the same values, went to the same day school, participated in the same extracurricular activities, and shared the same Bar Mitzvah date. Although the parents disagreed as to who was going to be “successful”; by the end of the Parsha, it is quite clear that the blessing that Yitzchak gave Yaakov prior to Yaakov’s departure was always intended for Yaakov. So to some extent, both parents agreed as to who was the rightful inheritor of the Abrahamic Covenant. Right or wrong, the parents had definite opinions about their sons’, their abilities, and their future success.  Much of that opinion is based upon how each child responds to life’s stimuli. The Torah doesn’t really tell us much about their respective youth, Va’Yigdalu HaN’Arim, “And the boys grew up.” (Gen25: 27) R’ Levi said: At first they were like myrtle and a wild rose growing side by side. But when they grew up the former yielded to its natural fragrance, and the latter its thorns. So, for the first thirteen years, both Yaakov and Esav went to school and came home from school. But at the end of thirteen years, one went to houses of study and the other to shrines of idolatry.” (Genesis Rabbah 63:10). The Sifsei Chachamim clarifies that until their Bar Mitzvah, they were nearly identical. However, after their Bar Mitzvah, essential differences became evident. By the time they reached Bar Mitzvah, they now can begin to formulate their own opinions, develop their own attitudes, respond to their likes and dislikes. By the time the boys reach Bar Mitzvah, the parents can see a personality develop and take root. 

          As parents, we always think our perceptions of our children are the best indicators of an outcome.  However, it would appear that parents’ perceptions are not always based upon the context at the time but rather upon an ideal. From Yitzchak’s perspective Esav was a fine son, and worthy of a blessing because he meticulously fulfilled the value of Kibud Av – Respecting the father.  However, as meticulous as Esav was about that particular value, it did not make him fit for The Covenantal  Blessing. Children grow up in the same home but they respond to the stimuli differently, they have different interests, passions, and experiences outside the home which also influence, shape, and stimulate. As parents, perhaps all we can do is leave our arms, homes, and minds open to our children, praising them when they work hard at becoming the best possible version of themselves, and kvelling when they accomplish this.

Peace, 

Rav Yitz 

It Speaks Of A Life That Passes Like Dew (John Barlow & Bob Weir - "Black Throated Wind")

           With a daughter spending a gap year learning in Israel, we get phone calls at rather odd times. One of the odd times she decides to call is at the conclusion of Shabbat in Israel. Knowing that she can only leave a message, our daughter will call, inform us of her Shabbat experience. If she was spending Shabbat away from her Seminary, she will call to let us know that she is safely home. If there was important news that occurred late Friday night or on Saturday eastern standard time, she will tell us what we might have missed. Last Shabbat was no different than any other Shabbat since she has been in Israel. While we were eating Shabbat lunch here in Toronto, our daughter called and told us that Joe Biden was now the President-Elect. In our home, we were thankful and hopeful that there might be a new beginning,  as these troubling and chaotic four years draw to an inevitable conclusion. Ten minutes later, that hope, that sense of a new beginning, and new opportunity burst as our daughter called again. This time she called to tell us that Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, the former Chief Rabbi of England, passed away. The Jewish people and indeed the world lost a brilliant intellect, and an empathetic soul,  teacher of Jewish texts, and perhaps the greatest ambassador of Modern Orthodox Judaism,  western morality, ethics, and philosophy. Within ten minutes of our Shabbat lunch, there was life and death, joy and grief, light, and darkness. 

         This Shabbat is Parsha Chayei Sarah. In Chayei Sarah, life and death appear almost simultaneously.  We read of Sarah’s death in terms of life: “Sarah’s lifetime was…” (Gen23:1). Then Avraham prepares for his wife’s burial. Next, Avraham concentrates his focus upon the perpetuation of life. He sends his servant, Eliezer, to find a wife for his son. He sends his servant, Eliezer, to find a matriarch that can fill the void left by Sarah’s death. Rivkah embodied this notion of life and legacy. These qualities are inherent to her character. Rivkah offered water, a symbol of both life and Torah, to Eliezer. Then she offered water to Eliezer’s camels thereby demonstrating her menschlekite. Rivkah also possessed the ability to sustain life. She sustained Eliezer’s life by allowing him to accomplish his mission and return to Avraham with a wife for Yitzchak. She sustained her own life by having the wherewithal and the strength to leave her family, a family which our sages suggest were cutthroats and cheats (Genesis Rabbah 63:4), and join a family that made a covenant with God. Ultimately she brought sustenance and comfort to Yitzchak when they both entered his mother’s tent. 

          After Eliezer received water from this girl, we are told her name, Rivkah. Her name is indicative of her character. Her name also suggests an inherent ability to join seemingly disparate events or ideas such as life and death and make meaning from it. The Hebrew root of her name (RVK) means “join”, or “yoked together”, e.g. two oxen are joined together to pull a plow. The team must be of equal strength or the plow won’t go straight. Therefore Rivkah must be equally as strong as and independent as Yitzchak. Rivkah must be strong enough to take the memory and legacy of Sarah and make it her own. This requires a very strong sense of self.              

Rivkah fills the spiritual vacuum created by Sarah’s death. Rivka will also become  Avraham in the sense that just like God shared with Avraham the prophecy; God will share the prophecy of  Rivkah’s two sons with Rivkah (Parsha Toldot). Like Avraham, Rivka is the bridge between this family’s current state of affairs and future spiritual holiness. “And Yitzchak brought her into the tent of his mother; he married Rivkah, she became his wife, and he loved her; and thus was Yitzchak consoled after his mother.” (Gen 24:67)  The Rabbis explain that while Sarah lived a cloud of glory hung over her tent, her tent was known for hospitality, and a lamp remained alit from Shabbat to Shabbat. When Sarah died all these qualities died with her. However, when Rivkah was brought into the tent of his mother, all these qualities returned (Genesis Rabbah 60:16). Besides perpetuating life, she perpetuated the spiritual holiness necessary for joining Yitzchak in God’s covenant. Only Rivkah was able to fill the powerful memory of Sarah and still prevent herself from being overwhelmed by such a memory, joining the legacy of Sarah to her own being and her marriage to Yitzchak.  Only Rivkah was able to join the generation of Avraham and Sarah with the next generation. Fittingly, the Parshah ends as it began, with death. However, now read of Avraham’s death.  

          Rivkah took the legacy, the Middot, the qualities of the deceased, of Sarah, and (RVK)  joined those qualities, aspects, and Middot to her life. She accomplished this monumental task when she and her husband Yitzchak entered his mother’s tent and she brought him comfort. At that moment Rivkah managed to demonstrate life and death can converge, that joy and sorrow can be linked, that past and present can intersect resulting in something spiritually powerful as opposed to spiritually debilitating.

Peace,

Rav Yitz

All The Endless Ruins Of The Past Must Stay Behind (Jerry Garcia - "The Cream Puff War")

           This week seems to have lasted much longer than seven days. From Tuesday until Friday, we have had the news listening to and watching the results of the U.S. elections. Yes, as citizens, we had a vested interest. We all voted. Having a daughter run a campaign for a congressional seat in Texas also gave us a personal interest in the outcome. As we watched, it became clear that the U.S. is horribly divided. One political talking head commented that there really are two nations that are south of the Canadian border. It seems that these “two Americas” have nothing in common except for one thing. Both are full of fear. One America is scared of the future, scared of the changing demography, scared that the current alienation that they sense will grow worse. This America perceives that their world was better in 1955 than it could ever be in 2025. The other America fears the present. They fear Covid19, they fear systemic racism, they fear the continued erosion of democratic institutions and America’s values. They look towards the future with hope, possibility, the see the future as aspirational, as a means to “build a more perfect union.”

          This Shabbat we read from Parsha VaYeira. The narrative and adventures of Avraham the Patriarch continue. While healing from his ritual circumcision, he fulfills the mitzvah of Hachnasat Orchim, hospitality. He negotiates with God and reduces the number of righteous people that must be found in Sodom and Gomorrah in order to prevent its destruction. The narrative of Avraham is interrupted as we read the narrative of Lot, the two Angels (the same two that had visited Avraham at the beginning of the Parsha), the destruction of the city, and the impure relationship that results when the survivors think that world has been destroyed. The narrative returns to Avraham as its focus and he and his wife Sarah give birth to a son (Yitzchak), the banishment of Hagar and Ishmael (Avraham’s firstborn son and his concubine) and the final test of his belief, the Akeidat Yitzchak – the Offering of Isaac. 

          During these adventures, during these tests, it is fascinating to watch Avraham deal with each new issue, each new tension, and arrive at solutions. Avraham always looks forward. Avraham looked forward, he looked towards the horizon towards Sodom and Gomorrah while God talked to Avraham about his intention to destroy those cities. When he is commanded to banish Hagar and Ishmael, Avraham looks forward. He looked towards the horizon, in the direction they were heading, and provided them food and water in order to survive the journey. When asked to sacrifice his son, Isaac, Avraham doesn’t look back, he looks forward, towards the mountain where the sacrifice will supposedly occur. Compare this with Lot and his family (Gen 19:12-26). Three times the angels tell Lot that he and his family must leave. First, Lot tells his children to leave, although there is no indication that Lot and his wife intent to go. The second time, the two angels lead Lot, his wife, and children out, but Lot still can’t just leave! VaYitmama – still he lingered (Gen 19:16). Even when God’s messengers grab Lot, his wife, and his daughters by the hands and led them out of the city VaYomer Himaleit Al Nafshecha Al Tabit Acharecha v’Al Taamod B’Chol HaKikar Hahara Himaleit pen Tisafeh- Flee for your life! Do not look behind you nor stop anywhere in all the plain; flee to the mount lest you be swept away (Gen 19:17). Lot can’t just move on. He stays to stay and negotiate, figuring he can flee to a nearby city.  Finally, they begin making their way towards the alternative destination VeTabeit Ishto M’Acharav Vathi  Ntziv Melach  But His wife looked back and she became a pillar of salt (Gen. 19:26) Ramban explains that she looked back to make sure her daughters were following. What parent would flee and have the children (little or young adult) behind them? A parent would either have the children in front of them or be holding their hand while fleeing. So what other reason was there to turn around. Like her husband, who had such a difficult time moving forward, Lot’s wife wants to turn around one last time in order to see life and the world she was leaving. She was merely emulating Lot. However, she did it “one more time”. From the Angels’ perspective, enough was enough. 

          Sometimes moving forward can be very difficult. Fear of the future, fear of the unknown can be overwhelming. Sometimes there is comfort looking back towards the past. However, one must avoid being enslaved by the past or romanticize the past to the point where the past is only a myth. Doing so endangers an individual’s welfare and it endangers a nation’s welfare. For Lot’s wife, that simple glance over her shoulder symbolized not only a lack of faith in the future, it symbolized her preference for the perceived idealized life that she was leaving behind. A nation struggles with itself, nearly half looking back at a past built upon myth, not fact, fearful of the horizon fearful of a future.  Elections are very similar to  Lot’s wife. Some vote in elections looking towards the horizon with hope and anticipation of a better possibility, and some vote in elections fearful of the future and prefer the life of a bygone time. Eventually, however, we know that time continues to move forward.  

Peace,

Rav Yitz