Strangers Stopping Strangers Just To Shake Their Hand (Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia "Scarlett Begonias"

Winter can be a tough time for the homeless. Winter can be a tough time for the impoverished and the lonely. When I lived in New York, I became acutely aware of this “seasonal hardship” and numerous food kitchens and shelters established by local synagogues and churches to help people normally considered to be “strangers” by that membership of that particular church or synagogue.   While the issues of homelessness may not appear as pronounced as New York’s for most of the year, Toronto’s harsher and longer winter makes the problem particularly acute. Our synagogue (shul) participates in what is known as “Out of the Cold”. On Monday evenings, for eight weeks, our shul community provides a hot meal and a warm space for those in need.  On Monday evenings, for eight weeks, I pick up our 17-year-old daughter (who has been volunteering in this program for the past six years) and her 13-year-old brother (first year of volunteering). Like his sister, he has also experienced a powerful transformation. At first, the people who came to partake of the warm food, shelter, and clothing were “stranger”. They were nothing like him, they did not look like him, nor were they raised like him. Our 13-year-old son had nothing in common with these “strangers”.  Indeed, they were strangers. On that first Monday evening, there was trepidation. Five Monday evenings later I watch our son serve warm meals to strangers in need and help these strangers obtain weather appropriate clothing from the bins that are in our shul basement. However, he does something else. He greets these strangers, he talks to these strangers, he listens to these strangers and he now there is no more trepidation. Now, he no longer considers them strangers. They are just people with the same basic need that he has, to be fed, clothed, have a shelter and to be treated with dignity and grace.

This week we read from Parsha Mishpatim. Moshe is still at Mt. Sinai. However, the revelation that occurred with the giving of the Aseret Dibrot (Ten Commandments) is long gone. Instead, God has now started giving Moshe numerous laws that affect the day to day issues raised by human interaction. There is no shofar blowing, there is no anticipation of meeting God at the mountain. Rather there is only God telling Moshe how to decide various legal matters including the damages to be paid if my ox gores your ox; two men are fighting near a pregnant woman and she gets hurt,   and how to treat to a Jewish servant, observing festivals, the issues of liability for those who are asked to safeguard another’s property as well as manslaughter, to name just a few of the fifty-three commandments (according to the Sefer HaChinuch).  Moshe tells these laws to B’nai Yisroel and they respond with the words Naaseh v’Nishmah – we will do and learn.  The Parsha concludes with glowing fire upon the Mountain that Moshe ascends once again.

Following the awe-inspiring revelation at Sinai in Parsha Yitro, it might seem like a spiritual let down as we read of one law after another and the mundane rules that are established to govern human interaction. However, buried beneath these rules and regulations God reminds Moshe of the foundations upon which these executive orders are based.  V’Ger Lo Toneh  V’Lo TilChatzenu Ki Geirim Heyitem B’Eretz Mitzrayim – You shall not taunt or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. The Talmudic Sages in Baba Metzia 59b reminds us that the Torah cautions us regarding our treatment of the stranger no less than thirty-six times. No other “executive order”, no other commandment, loving God, Shabbat, circumcision, forbidden foods, uttering a falsehood occurs as frequently loving the stranger or refrain from oppressing the stranger.  The Talmudic sages understand this commandment in terms of the “stranger” (the idol worshipper turned proselyte). When the “stranger” ceases worshipping idols and begins the process of Torah study; no one oppresses, mocks or demeans his origins. Later Medieval Commentators explain that the “stranger” is not only an idol worshipper turned proselyte, in other words, the spiritually defenseless. The “stranger” is the economically defenseless as well. RaShBam (11^th Century French commentator and Rashi’s nephew) clarifies “Do not oppress him” to do your work since he has no champion. RaMBaM, the great Spanish commentator, adds a caveat to RaShBam. God defends the defenseless. God protects the widows and the orphans. In the previous Parsha, Yitro, God reminded Moshe to tell B’nai Yisroel that they were to be a Nation of Priests, that is to say, B’nai Yisroel is supposed to embody Godliness here on earth. Caring for the stranger embodies Godliness. Failure to care for the stranger embodies the Egyptians. 

Underlying the mundane concern of human relations lies the most profound and awe-inspiring idea.  It is human nature to fear the “other” to fear the “stranger”, to fear those who look different. Human nature is fully on display in the White House. Yet Torah, Judeo-Christian morality, liberal democracy and the values with which we raise our children seems to appeal to something that transcends human nature. Instead, we are supposed to strive for something greater than human nature. We are supposed to transcend our fear of the stranger, we are supposed to transcend our trepidation of the “other”; we are supposed to be able to empathize with the stranger. After all, at some point in our history, we were all strangers.  This group of former slaves was learning how to create a civil, just, caring and humane society predicated upon law, trust, the sanctity of the human soul, and the necessity for empathy. Over the past several Mondays, we have noticed our son has started to understand what means to empathize. Maybe the Whitehouse should participate in an “Out of the Cold” program.  

Peace,

Rav Yitz

And I'll Call Down Thunder And Speak The Same; And My Words Fills The Sky With Flame (John Barlow & Bob Weir - "Estimated Prophet')

                My kids and my wife know that if I am driving, they will be listening to thirty years’ worth of soundboard quality concerts of the Grateful Dead.  It may be a concert from 1967; it may be a concert from 1995 or the recent shows this past summer or something in between. Every so often I will even chime in and tell them that I was at a particular show.  Yes, I am a Dead Head.  If anyone has ever attended a Grateful Dead Show (the original band played over 2300 concerts from 1965-1995), or had the opportunity to experience the more than 200 shows after the death of Jerry Garcia in August of 1995 (surviving members of the original band performed as Further, The Other Ones, The Dead, and most recently Dead and Company); then understanding the notion of public revelation isn’t so unique nor too difficult to comprehend. Statistically, many more people have not experienced this type of concert. Many more people have seen The Rolling Stones. However whether one has seen one Grateful Dead show or 1000 shows, whether one saw the original band in 1965 or saw the latest rendition of the band during the summer or fall of 2015; make no mistake, those who have experienced a show share a common language, saw similar sights, maybe even heard the similar songs, and were part of a community that is happy to be routinely considered outside the mainstream society. Everyone knows that no two shows are ever the same. Therefore the experience at a show is both communal and individual.  In today’s day and age, the concept of a Revelation is tends to be more individual in nature. Of the three Abrahamic religions, Christianity and Islam are based upon the revelation of the individual. However Judaism, the oldest of the three Abrahamic religions and with the smallest number of adherents is completely based upon a public revelation. Certainly each individual experienced something slightly different, but they experienced some type of revelation while standing at Mt. Sinai.  When learning about another’s revelation, “awe” and “fear” becoming obstacles for those learning about an individual’s revelation. If the person is unapproachable, then it becomes all but impossible to be spiritually close enough to that person in order to learn all that there is to learn from that revelatory experience. However, after three and half hours of a Grateful Dead Show, the experience is so powerful that it any longer would become overwhelming. That’s not to say one might not show up for consecutive shows or even tour with the band, but eventually individual shows, a three night runs in a particular city, and typical six week tour will eventually come to an end. Nobody can experience a constant first hand revelation and be expected to live.

This Shabbat we read from Parsha Yitro. This week's Parsha is Yitro. Named after Moshe father in-law, who happens to be a Midianite priest, the Parsha begins with Moshe leading B'nai Yisroel toward the wilderness of Midian where he meets up with his father in-law, his wife and his two sons. Yitro suggests that Moshe should create a bureaucracy whereby others administer the small everyday rulings required of a judge. Difficult legal issues would be administered by Moshe. Moshe is then commanded by God to bring B'nai Yisroel to Mt. Sinai. For three days they will purify themselves, clean their clothes, not have marital relations, and purify their souls for a revelation. There with the mountain smoking and thunder billowing from the heavens, God begins to speak. B'nai Yisroel is absolutely petrified and fearing death, they beg Moshe to go up the mountain as their Shaliach (appointed messenger). Moshe ascends the mountain and receives the Aseret HaDibrot (the Ten Commandments), then descends. Upon his descent he tells B'nai Yisroel the Aseret HaDibrot.

However the Parsha concludes in a very peculiar way. B’nai Yisroel just shared an absolutely surreal experience; they prepared for three days, they approached the mountain, the mountain looked like it was smoking and full of fire and then they heard the voice of God. Despite this incredibly surreal moment, despite this awesome experience, they were only spiritually capable enough to handle hearing the first commandment. They relied upon Moshe to tell them the remaining nine commandments. Indeed this was an awe inspiring moment, yet simultaneously it was a spiritually overwhelming moment. V’Chol Ha’Am Ro’im et HaKolot V’Et Halapidim V’Eit Kol HaShofar V’Et HaHar Ashein VaYar Ha’Am  VaYanu’U VaYamdu Meirachok The entire nation saw the thunder and the flames, the sound of the shofar and the smoking mountain; the people saw and trembled from afar. VaYomru El Moshe Daber Atah Imanu V’Nishma’ah B’Al Yidabeir Imanu Elohim Pen Namut. They said to Moshe, “You speak to us and we shall hear; let God not speak to us lest we die. (Ex. 20:15-16)  So Moshe goes back up into the darkness of the mountain and God tells Moshe to say to B’nai Yisroel Atem Riitem Ki Min HaSHamayim Dibarti Imachem You (B’nai Yisroel) have seen that I spoke to from heaven. (Ex. 20:19) Normally one hears what is spoken; however because the experience is so surreal, apparently one “sees” what is spoken from heaven. Rashi, the great 11^th century French commentator, explains the phrase “see what was spoken” as opposed to hear what was spoken. Yeish Hafreish Bein Mah Sh’Adam Roeh L’Mah Sheh’Acheirim MSichin Lo Sh’Mah She’ Acheirim M’Sichin Lo Pa’Amim Sh’Libo Chaluck MilHaAmin There is a difference between that which a man sees and that about which others tell him, for about that which others tell him, at times his heart (mind) is doubtful about believing. When one experiences revelation first hand, then there is a minimal chance of “sin”, of having some other God before Hashem. However when one hears about revelation, there is more risk for individual to have another god before Hashem.  

                Revelation is fraught with boundaries and limitations.  Too much revelation can lead to fear, spiritual paralysis and even fear of death -Pen Namut perhaps We Die.  Not enough revelation, that is to say, experiencing it second hand creates a possibility that followers of the individual who had the revelatory experience may elevate that individual to a status of more than just a person, more than just a prophet.   The Revelation at Sinai had one profound purpose. B’nai Yisroel had to see, hear, and acknowledge that there can be no other god before Hashem. That acknowledgement, that communal and national acknowledgement of each person having a first-hand Revelation on that day, at that time, and at that place is what makes Judaism completely unique from the other Abrahamic religions. Always with the fewest followers compared to Christianity and Islam, always considered outside the dominant culture, that moment at Sinai connected a group of people through space and time. From a secular perspective, those who have experienced a Grateful Dead Show understand what it’s like to “See the thunder” and hear the “sound of the smoking mountain.”  Like the bumper sticker says: “There’s nothing like a Grateful Dead concert”.

Peace,

Rav Yitz  

Anything You Want To Be You Can Buy, Even Get It Free (John Barlow & Bob Weir - Heaven Help the Fool)

As an American family living in Toronto, my wife and I have shared a mutual concern for our children’s knowledge of American History, Geography and Civics.  We worry about their ability to find Texas on map of the United States,  the Rocky Mountains stand, or where the Mississippi River flows. We worry that they don’t know the difference between a Congressman (woman) and a Senator. We worry over their learning about the American Revolution, the Civil War, or the Gilded Age. So when our children have the opportunity to read or study about an event specific to American History, such as the Civil Rights Movement, Jackie Robinson, or the New York Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire; we tend to push them a little harder.  Needless to say, when “42” was released, we considered an educational opportunity.  During and after the movie our children asked all kinds of questions.  However when our son asked if I was alive when Jackie Robinson came to Brooklyn, I told him that I wasn’t even alive yet.  To give him some context, I told him that Grandpa was a kid during Jackie’s rookie season, and that Grandma, who grew up in North Carolina, remembers growing up in the Jim Crow South amid racial segregation. Our children realized that “history” wasn’t so long ago. Our daughter asked why did the some of the white players keep talking about “preserving the good old days” and the “way things have always been”? I laughed and was reminded of something my father used to tell me when the topic of the “good old days” came up. He used to tell me and my sister to be careful of listening to the embellished nostalgia for the “good old days.” Quoting the journalist Franklin Adams, our father taught us that “Nothing is more responsible for the good old days than a bad memory.” Bad memory plagues all of us in every generation.

This Shabbat we read from Parsha Bahalotcha. For the previous two Parshiot, Bemidbar and Naso, Bnai Yisroel has counted and prepared for their journey from Sinai to Eretz Canaan. This week, the final preparations are ordered and executed and the departure from Sinai begins. Aaron, Moshe’s brother and the Kohen Gadol, lights the lamp for the Mishkan, the entire Levite tribe is purified, offerings made and their service for maintenance of the Mishkan begins. Final instructions for observing Pesach under these new conditions, (they were not leaving Egypt anymore nor had they arrived in the land) were offered, including the case of coming into contact with the deceased and becoming spiritually impure. The narrative tells us the manner in which Bnai Yisroel traveled: sheltered by a cloud during the day, and protected by a pillar of fire at night. Then the complaining begins. They complain about the Mannah. They complain about the food. They complain about Moshe’s leadership. Moshe’s sister complains about his wife.

There is no mystery as to the timing of these complaints. Bnai Israel’s context had changed. For over a year they had been dwelling at the foot of Mt. Sinai. Now they would begin their journey, a journey that was supposed to take a week to ten days, and conclude with their arrival in Eretz Canaan, in Israel. Things are now no longer what they had been. Things are different. V’Hasafuf Asher B’Kirbo Hitavu Gavah VaYashuvu VaYivku Gam Bnai Yisroel VaYomru Mi Yachileinu Basar. The rabble that was among them cultivated a craving, and the Children of Israel also wept once more, and said, “Who will feed us meat?” Zacharnu et HaDagah Asher Nochal B’Mitzrayim Chinam Et Hakishuim v’Eit Ha’Avatichim v’Et HeChatzir V’et Habtzalim v’Et Hashumim. Remember the fish that we ate in Egypt free of charge; and the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic. V’Atah Nafsheinu Yeveisha Ein Kol Bilti El Haman Einenu – But now, our life is parched, there is nothing; we have nothing to anticipate but the Manna!” (Num. 11:4-6). Talk about selective memory! The back breaking labor and the tears they don’t remember but the fish they ate free of charge; that was the essence of their more than two centuries of freedom? Had their memories become so selective and so poor so fast?

Amid the complaint is a clue that suggests that maybe their memory wasn’t as bad as first indicated, and the good old days in Egypt were maybe not so great.  The clue is in the word used to describe the “fish that was eaten free of charge”. The word in Hebrew is Chinam. Literally, Chinam means gratuitously; for no reason.  Ramban, the 13 century Spanish philosopher took the verse literally. Egyptian fisherman gave Bnai Yisroel the plentiful low quality fish that they caught.  Ibn Ezra, the tenth century linguist, philosopher, and astrologer, explained that fish was so plentiful that it was virtually free. However Rashi, the great 11^th century French commentator, suggests that there is an alternative understanding of the word Chinam.  He based his comment upon the Talmudic Sages who taught that indeed, the food was free – it came with no sense of obligation, responsibility or mitzvot.

When the Talmudic sages discuss the reasons for the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash (the Holy Temple), they point to the concept of Sinat Chinam-Senseless or gratuitous hatred. When we apply that nuanced understanding of Chinam (senseless  and gratuitous) back to the all you can eat fish smorgasbord during the period of slavery; our understanding of HaDaga Asher Nochal B’Mitzrayim Chinam can be viewed as the idea that there was so much fish, it wasn’t considered precious or important.  Egyptians would wantonly throw the fish away. This unwanted fish was free of charge. Also the fish was so gratuitous, there was so much of it; it had no value and no one cared about it.  Yes, Bnai Yisroel had fish free of charge. They probably forgot to remind Moshe, that every meal contained the same unwanted fish that the Egyptian threw away. They probably forgot to tell Moshe that there was so much fish that during the heat of the summer, there was a horrible stench of fish rotting in homes and on the streets.  Indeed, the “Good Old Day” always seem better when we look back at them then when we live through them.

Peace,

Rav Yitz