Showing posts with label "Morning Dew". Show all posts
Showing posts with label "Morning Dew". Show all posts

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

I Thought I Heard A Young Man Mourn This Morning (Bonnie Dobson - "Morning Dew")

          Earlier this week, amid the ongoing pandemic of Covid 19, Israel stopped to commemorate their fallen soldiers and those who died from acts of terror, and then Israel stopped to celebrate its Independence. Earlier this week, Israel observed Yom HaZikaron and celebrated Yom Ha’Atzmaut. During Yom HaZikaron, my wife, children, and I attended a funeral in Israel. A 16-year-old former bunkmate of our son tragically passed away. My wife knew the parents from summer camp, they were at our son’s Bar Mitzvah in Eretz Yisroel. As we watched the funeral via YouTube, we listened to eulogies given by a teacher, by his Rav, and by his father and older sister. My wife cried, my daughters and I welled up in tears, our son sat, stunned, silent. The father spoke of his son, his wonderful attributes, as a son, a brother, as a grandson, and as a friend. He alluded to Avraham Avinu, the “ten tests” that the Talmudic sages explain the events told in the Torah culminating in Akedat Yitzchak (the Binding of Isaac). We listened and our hearts sank given the pain and sorrow this family has experienced now experiencing the unfathomable of losing a child. Yet it was the words of his older sister that were so powerful and heartbreaking. She explained that a recent school assignment had been to determine a before and “after point” in one’s life, a point where an event altered the sense of life’s path. She explained that this moment, on this Yom HaZikaron would be her “after point”. An aspect of her young teenage life will forever be oriented around memory, the memory of her brother, and all of his wonderful qualities. She explained that any friend she makes in the future, any boyfriend, or her husband, will only know of her brother through her memory. If she is blessed with children, they will never know their uncle except through her memory. This will be her ‘after point’. Of course, the”‘after point” assumes that the survivor continues to leade a meaningful life comforted by memories of her brother’s life and his blessings.

         This Shabbat, like last Shabbat, we read from two Parshiot. This week we read the double Parsha of Acharei Mot/ Kedoshim. After two Parshiot, Tazria, and Metzorah, which essentially interrupted the narrative and the laws that had been focused upon the Kohanim, we now return to the Kohen as the central focus in the Parsha. Now that he has become spiritually pure, the Torah is now ready to teach the laws for the spiritual purity of the nation. We have focused upon the impurities of individuals, now we focus upon the community. The Kohen acts on behalf of the nation just like he acts on behalf of the individual. The Torah teaches us the laws for the offerings of Yom Kippur, national atonement, and Azazel otherwise known as the Scapegoat. The Scapegoat is not offered as a sacrifice to God, but rather is sent out from the camp and left to wander in the wilderness eventually succumbing to the elements. The second half of the Parsha focuses on the holy and holy relationships within the family. However, the list of inappropriate behaviors between family members is taught within the context of the other nations. The list of inappropriate behavior in terms of worship, in terms of caring for the employer and employee, between the vulnerable and the well-off, between people are all taught within the context of other nations. Essentially other nations provide a standard of inappropriate behavior.

         However, it is somewhat odd that the standards for inappropriate behavior come from two distinct places. One place is Egypt; the place where this journey began. The other place is Eretz Canaan; the place where this journey is supposed to conclude. The Torah considers both places impure, and unholy. Both places engage in behavior that the Torah considers not only bad but behavior deemed to be an abomination. In both places, Egypt and Canaan, the dominant culture worshiped death and didn’t sanctify life. Human sacrifices are made, the vulnerable are not taken care of, and there is no mechanism in place for a community to ever return to a previous point of spiritual purity and sanctity – T’Shuvah (repentance). In fact, both places, the place of origin and place of destination are so impure, the abominations are so deplorable that to mimic such behavior is tantamount to spiritual death. The only example, the only other being to mimic and to imitate learned behavior is God. Vi’Heyitem Li Kedoshim Ki Kadosh Ani Adoshem Va’Avdil Etchem Min Ha’Amim Li’heyot Li You shall be holy for me for I, Hashem, am holy; and I have separated you from the People’s to be mine. (Lev. 20:26). Rashi explains that Holiness is the act of sanctifying life, and if B’nai Yisroel’s behavior is not distinct from the nations as “belonging to Nebuchadnezzar and his colleagues.” No, Rashi is not suggesting that a failure to observe mitzvot and follow God’s Torah is the equivalent of a man that destroyed Jerusalem, the First Temple, and put B’nei Yisroel into exile. Rather, as the Chatam Sofer explains, that the failure to remain distinct from other nations risks B’nei Yisroel’s existence. Along with the risk of “disappearing” of assimilation comes the risk of losing collective memory.

          Even though he and his family were touched by death, Aharon and his two surviving sons leaned into life, served on behalf of B’nai Yisroel, followed God’s commandments, and continued striving towards holiness. Certainly, Aharon, his son’s and wife, experienced their own “after point” their own turning point. For the older sister who spoke so lovingly of her brother, she understood that she and her younger sisters had been touched by the death of their 16-year-old brother. She explained that there will be an Acharei Meit, an “after point” in which they will have to choose. Choose to disappear and cease living a life in which they strive for Kedoshim, or find a path to live a life of holiness whereby they live and thrive, and in doing so, the memory of their brother lives and thrives as well. II hope our children understood the lesson that this young woman learned and explained so beautifully and heartfelt.

Peace,
Rav Yitz

Monday, November 17, 2014

I Thought I Heard a Baby Cry This Morning (Bonnie Dobson - "Morning Dew")



To the untrained ear, a crying baby, or a crying child is just that, a crying baby or a crying child.  However every parent knows that babies have different cries for when they are hungry, wet, scared, or don’t feel like being alone.  Every parent knows that older kids have different cries for when they are experiencing acute physical pain, frustration, or sadness. For parents, our ability to decipher the various types of cries of our children goes a long way in being able to zero in on the problem and stop the crying. I can tell when our eldest daughter feels overwhelmed with work and she begins to cry or when our high school age daughter feels hurt by her girlfriends for some perceived social inadequacy.  We can tell from the cry of our son when he is physically or when he can’t get his way. We can tell the difference in our twelve year old daughter’s cry when she feels guilty about something and when she misses a camp friend.  
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, Avraham, who experienced a famine in the land, Yitzchak also experienced a famine in the land. Unlike his father, Yitzchak does not go down to Egypt. Yitzchak remains in the land, grows wealthy, and 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. As a result, Esav is fit to be tied and threatens to kill Yaakov. The Parsha concludes with Rivka telling Jacob to go to her brother’s home, convincing Yitzchak that Yaakov needs to leave home in order to find a wife. Yaakov receives his fathers’ blessing, the blessing of the Brit, the Covenant that God made with Avraham and Yitzchak, a blessing that was never intended for Esav.  Yaakov leaves home and Esav moves away as well. He decides to dwell with his uncle Ishmael among the Canaanites.
The irony of the narrative, is that Yaakov never changes. Although his is described as Ish Tam – a simple man, Yaakov is hardly simple. He convinces his brother to sell him the birthright. Although Yaakov hesitates when he hears his mother’s plan to disguise himself as Esav in order to steal that particular blessing, once he is told that he will be absolved of any wrongdoing, Yaakov goes along. Even when fleeing for his life, Yaakov makes time to get one more blessing from his father. Esav on the other hand is Ish Sadeh, a man of the field, a hunter, a physically oriented person. Yes he sells his birthright to his brother because he is “starving to death”.  He marries the wrong girl from the wrong tribe which upsets his parents. However he fulfills his father’s request in order to receive his blessing. When he doesn’t receive the blessing: KiShma Esav et Divrei Aviv Yitzchak Tzaaka Gedola U’Mara Ad M’Ode; VaYomer L’Aviv Barcheini Gam Ani Avi When Esav heard his father’s words, he cried out an exceedingly great and bitter cry, and said to his father, “Bless me to my Father” (27:34). Four verses later, when it appears that Yitzchak doesn’t have a blessing in reserve for Esav: VaYomer Esav El Aviv HaBracha Achat Hee Lecha Avi, Barcheini Gam Ani Avi VaYisah Eisav Kolo VaYeivkEsav said to his father, “have you but one blessing, my Father? Bless me too my father!” and Esav raised his voice and wept (27:38).  After this big strong strapping sort of man finished crying he then vowed to kill his brother.  For a moment at least, Esav appears sympathetic, his cry is “exceedingly great”; he “raises his voice and weeps”.  What did these cries sound like? After all, not all cries sound the same. Was it the type of cry when one has suffered a sudden loss? Was it the cry of someone who just broke a bone? Was it the cry upon hearing the news of a loved one? Was it the cry of being at the end of one’s emotional rope and feeling helpless in the face of life’s onslaught? The Meforshim (the commentators) are oddly silent about the nature of the “Tzaak Gedola UMara- the great and bitter cry. Perhaps the silence suggests that Esav’s response is legitimately reasonable. Maybe the silence suggests that Esav’s crying is so out of character from the way he has behaved up until this point and how he acts after the second cry. Regarding the VaYisah Eisav Kolo VaYeivk Esav raised his voice and wept;” the Midrash Tanchuma comments that Esav wept only three tears. One from each eye and one that disappeared in the midst of his eye. When God saw that the “wicked one wept over his life only 3 tears”, that small limited moment demonstrated the smallest of regret over the what his life had become and might very well be in the future. For this tiny moment, for this humane cry, God made sure that Esav received a blessing. Maybe not the one that Yaakov received, but this minimal blessing reflects the minimal nature of the crying, weeping.
Pain, anguish, tears, and crying can happen to the strongest and the weakest, the passive and the aggressive, the victim and the perpetrator, the good guy and the bad guy, the most sensitive and the most callous. Obviously we need to be able to decipher the nature of each cry and of each tear in order to treat it appropriately.  Even an Esav can cry and weep; we just have to be able to determine which is the most appropriate and human response.
Peace,
                Rav Yitz