Archive for Holidays

Emor: This Very Day

May 11, 2012 at 4:58 pm · Filed under 3. Leviticus, Emor, Shavuot

Copyright 2012 Neal Joseph Loevinger


Torah Portioni: Emor 

 On that same day you shall hold a celebration; it shall be a sacred occasion for you; you shall not work at your occupations  . . . (Vayikra/ Leviticus 23:21)


Dear Friends: 

So sorry for my absence these past few weeks- glad to be back! 

This week an entire chapter of the Torah portion Emor is devoted to the Jewish calendar: Shabbat, the agricultural holidays, the counting of the omer,  Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. 

The holiday of Shavuot is celebrated after a 7 week-period of counting; it is the festival of the first-fruits of summer, and also understood in later Judaism to be the anniversary of the giving of the Torah at Sinai. Note the verse above: after listing the various Temple rituals of Shavuot, the Torah tells us  that “on that same day” you will have a festive and sacred occasion. This phrase, “on that same day,” [b'etzem hayom] could mean “this very day,” or “that same day,” but the phrase is superfluous: we already know Shavuot is the fiftieth day of counting, so why tell us “that very day” is the same one as the holiday? 

It turns out one other holiday is celebrated b’etzem hayom: 

“You shall not perform any work on that very day, for it is a day of atonement, for you to gain atonement before the Lord, your God.” (ibid 23:28)

Shavuot and Yom Kippur are linked by a short phrase which seems to indicate some immediacy or urgency to the experience of the day. One line of interpretation (found in Itturei Torah) compares these two holidays to other Jewish holidays like Passover, Sukkot, and Hanukkah, each of which commemorates a past event. The two holidays celebrated on “that very day,” however, can be seen as experiences of the present: Shavuot is the holiday of accepting the Torah- not as a text, per se, but as a framework for living Judaism, while Yom Kippur is about accepting responsibility for the moral content of our lives and repairing relationships as necessary- always an immediate concern! 

Seen this way, the acceptance of Torah on Shavuot is something affirmed not just every year, but every time we choose or “do Jewish.” It’s not about what happened then but what happens now, for Torah is a living inheritance, something we have to encounter and make alive, b’etzem hayom, on this very day. 

Shabbat Shalom, 

RNJL 

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Pesach: Beauty in Simplicity

April 6, 2012 at 2:03 am · Filed under Bo, Holidays, Pesach

Copyright 2012 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Pesach

“And they baked unleavened cakes of the dough that they had taken out of Egypt, for it was not leavened, since they had been driven out of Egypt and could not delay; nor had they prepared any provisions for themselves. . . “ (Shmot/ Exodus 12:39)

Dear Friends:

Earlier today, the New York Board of Rabbis shared some thoughts from Rabbi Marc Angel regarding the symbolic foods of Passover: matzah, maror, and the shankbone or reminder of the ancient Pesach offering. You can find his interpretations here, but let me quote from his explanation of matzah:

“Matzah is a basic, no-frills item. It is flour and water, without leavening. It stands for our basic selves, unpretentious, not inflated with vanity or pride. . .
Because of its sheer simplicity and honesty, Matzah symbolizes freedom. When we really know who we are, we gain a fine sense of our own freedom. We can be strong unto ourselves; we can rise above the fray; we can stop playing games of who has more, who has better, who has control. When we are free within, we have the confidence to live our own lives, not the counterfeit lives that others would impose on us.”

It occurs to me that Rabbi Angel’s explanation of matzah is taken one step further by applying the idea of hiddur mitzvah, or “beautifying the commandment.” I’ve written about this idea before (see here, where you’ll also find links to further explorations of the concept), but the basic idea is rather simple: when we have an opportunity to do a mitzvah, we should try to do it in an appealing and pleasing way. Thus we make kiddush in a nice glass or silver cup, or perhaps have embroidered covers on our matzah at the Seder table, or wear a colorful tallit of nice fabric rather than a plain or rough cloth.

So far, so good. The interesting thing about matzah, though, is that you can’t really make it more “beautiful” or adorned without making it not matzah. If you add anything other than flour and water to the – eggs, sugar, fruit juice, chocolate- it’s suitable as a unleavened treat (depending on your custom) but not appropriate to use as matzah at the Seder, when we eat only regular matzah to remember the liberation from Egypt.

However, there are people (myself included) who do buy a special kind of matzah, called shmurah matzah, as a “hiddur” or extra beautifying of the commandment. This matzah is usually round, hand-made, often with special flour that’s guarded against moisture, and it’s not, in fact, more “beautiful” in a conventional visual sense than the perfectly square, perfectly consistent machine-made matzah you get from a box. Hand-made matzah is often bumpy, sometimes burned, sometimes odd roundish shapes, sometimes tougher to eat- and yet for me, precisely because it is closer to that “essence” of matzah, a remembrance of what our ancestors would have made from leftover dough as they streamed out into the desert, it is, to me, an adornment of the commandment. Not in a visual or sensual way, but as an expression of that simplicity and honesty that Rabbi Angel teaches is the core idea of matzah.

In other words, sometimes to make something more beautiful and sacred, we have to strip it down to its essence, to its most basic form and concept. This then becomes an object lesson not for our food but for our lives: in order to become glorious, not physically but spiritually, we have to work on discarding our distractions, moving aside anything extraneous or contrary to our essential being and deepest self. Matzah is a radically simple thing; even the machine-made squares are remarkably similar to what matzah has always been for thousands of years. When we encounter it during our Feast of Freedom, it calls us back to ourselves, as individuals and as a people. When we celebrate and give thanks over the most simple food, it teaches us to focus on what’s essential in life, and be grateful. That’s ultimately not about our bread, but about our souls.

With warmest wishes for a healthy and happy Pesach,

RNJL

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Shabbat Hagadol: Ethics First

March 30, 2012 at 3:00 pm · Filed under Holidays, Pesach, Shabbat Hagadol, Special Shabbatot

Copyright 2012 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Tzav/ Shabbat Hagadol 

Greetings!

Every year, on the Shabbat before Pesach, we read a special haftarah, which from which this Shabbat may get its name: Shabbat Hagadol, or “The Great Sabbath.” (See alternative theories here and a summary of the haftarah here.)

There are many themes in this selection from the prophet Malachi, including a future day of redemption and the coming of the prophet Elijah, but what struck me this year were the opening verses:

“Then the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem shall be pleasing to the Lord as in the days of yore and in the years of old. But [first] I will step forward to contend against you, and I will act as a relentless accuser against those who have no fear of Me: Who practice sorcery, who commit adultery, who swear falsely, who cheat laborers of their hire, and who subvert [the cause of] the widow, orphan, and stranger, said the Lord of Hosts.” (Malachi 3:4-5)

Before we even get to more obvious connections to Passover, like redemption, reconciliation of families, and justice brought to oppressors, this text reminds us of a basic Jewish principle: ethics precede spirituality. Before we can enter the Templeto bring its offerings- or our local “temples” to bring our prayers and religious acts- we have to be right in our relationships and dealings in community. To put it another way, before we can clean up our chametz, we have to clean up our act.

This calls to mind the famous haftarah from Yom Kippur:

“ Is such the fast I desire,

A day for men to starve their bodies?
Is it bowing the head like a bulrush . . . . 
No, this is the fast I desire . . . .: 
To let the oppressed go free;
To break off every yoke.
 It is to share your bread with the hungry,
And to take the wretched poor into your home . . . “  (Isaiah 58:57, abridged)

Note that  Pesach and Yom Kippur, which are probably the two most complex religious events of the Jewish year, days in which  we go through elaborate texts, prayers, rituals, laws and customs, also have texts which remind us that religious acts do not advance us at all if we haven’t first done the inner work of ethical recommitment. How can we sit down on Seder night and remember the slavery inEgypt if we’re still acting in ways that oppress others today?

Please note, the prophets were not saying that religious acts are of no use; on the contrary, they saw the ancient Templeservice as a sign of covenant between God and the Jewish people. A renewed spirituality was their goal; ethical renewal was the price of admission. Amid all the cleaning, shopping, cooking, arranging, traveling, preparing that typically happens in the weeks before Passover, the prophet reminds us: religion without ethics is an empty shell. Preparing for the holiday means looking within, and asking at least a few questions our own roles in bringing freedom, compassion, and justice to a world that needs it now as much as our ancestors did then.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

 

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Sukkot: A Fleeting Moment

October 12, 2011 at 5:10 pm · Filed under Sukkot

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger 


Torah Portion: Sukkot

Dear Friends: 

It’s definitely the harvest season in the Northeast- the leaves have started to change and many of the summer fruits are no longer available at the local farmer’s market. Yet we still go according to the seasonal rhythms of the land of Israel and make our sukkot, our open booths, to “dwell” in for seven days, as sign of our joy and gratitude for the blessings of nature and the wonders of Jewish history. 

The essence of a sukkah is its finitude; it has temporary walls and an open roof of plants, stalks, boughs or leaves. Yet ultimately, all of our dwellings are temporary; this point is made clear in the haftarah, or prophetic reading, for the second day of the holiday. It’s the story of the early days of the ancient Temple, when the Ark of the Covenant and other holy vessels were brought into the new structure by King Solomon, This was done during the holiday of Sukkot, a supremely festive time in the Biblical calendar, and was part of the overall dedication and inauguration of the Temple, which itself marked a new phase of Jewish history. 

When the holy vessels were brought to the Temple, the Presence of the Sacred was sensed to fill the building and Solomon announces: 

“ I have now built for You
A stately House,
A place where You
May dwell forever.” (1 Kings 8:13- full text here.)

The irony, of course, is that we, Solomon’s heirs, know well that the ancient Temple, the “stately House,” was itself merely temporary, lasting a few hundred years, being destroyed and rebuilt and destroyed again. 

Clearly the obvious connection of the haftarah to the holiday is the mention of the festival itself; we’ve been celebrating at this time of year for a very long time, and that in itself is a humbling and amazing thing to contemplate. The sukkah is understood as a dwelling place of the Divine Presence, just as the ancient Temple was, but it comes and goes in a week, and we know from the start it won’t be there forever. It’s a cliche to say that joy can be found by being “in the moment,” but it’s true- nothing lasts forever, not the ancient Temple, not our houses or wealth or health or careers or anything else in which we might place a hope for ultimate security. 

The sukkah reminds us to be more fully aware of the particular moment: if it’s raining or hot or cold, we feel it, and give thanks nonetheless. That ability, to be mindful and grateful and fully present, is truly a more reliable path to spiritual awareness than even the grandest edifice, and all it requires is an open heart. 

Shabbat Shalom and Hag Sameach, 

RNJL 

P.S.- who would have thought that the Huffington Post would be a source for great Torah learning? Check out Sukkot commentaries from my alma mater, the Ziegler School, here and here. 

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Passover: The Festival of Learning

April 18, 2011 at 1:40 pm · Filed under Pesach

Dear Friends: 

Passover is almost upon us, and there’s too much to do: shopping, cooking, arranging, traveling. . .if we’re thinking about the meaning of the holiday at all, we’re probably thinking about the basic outline of the story: Moshe confronted Pharaoh, there were plagues, we got out, let’s eat! 

Yet the traditional Haggadah is a remarkably subtle document, full of interesting characters and narrative turns. One of my favorites comes right at the beginning, when we meet an ancient Jewish leader named Elazar ben Azariah: 

Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah said: ”I am like a man of seventy years old, yet I did not succeed in proving that the exodus from Egypt must be mentioned at night-until Ben Zoma explained it: “It is said, `That you may remember the day you left Egypt all the days of your life;’ now `the days of your life’ refers to the days, [and the additional word] `all’ indicates the inclusion of the nights!”

This little story is actually a quote from the Mishnah, or early Talmud, which occurs in the context of a discussion about saying the Shma at night.  So why include this in the Passover seder? 

First, the obvious teaching: that we are obligated to recall the Exodus at night year-round, and so especially so at the seder, when it is the centerpiece of our holiday. Not only that, but recalling the Exodus is so central to who we are as a people that even in the days of the Messiah, we’ll still remember the Exodus. Being grateful and not taking our freedom for granted isn’t something we do just one night a year, but is a constant spiritual discipline, central to what Judaism means in our lives. 

Yet I think the story above teaches us one more thing, which is that even if you are like Elazar ben Azaryah, the head of the Sanhedrin (high council), wise and learned and entrusted with great responsibility- you can, and must, always be open to new learning. Not only was Elazar open to learning from Ben Zoma, but he freely admitted it, and sets the example for us at our own sedarim: we can learn something new every year, from anybody who may be able to teach us a new insight, and this openness is a proud virtue. 

So have a seder tonight with wonderful discussions, new teachings, interesting commentaries, digressions and interpretations . . . . and rejoice that we are all teachers and students of Torah. 

Many blessings for a warm and healthy holiday, 

Rabbi Neal 

P.S.- for a little more about R. Elazar, go here and here. 

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Purim: Reading and Reliving

March 18, 2011 at 1:18 pm · Filed under Purim, Shabbat Zachor, Special Shabbatot

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Dear Friends:


Tomorrow night is Purim, with its costumes, noisemakers, feasting and merriment, at the heart of which is the reading of the megillah, or scroll containing the book of Esther. We learn in the Mishnah, the early part of the Talmud, that one must read the book of Esther from a scroll, and in fact, one is not permitted to declaim it from memory, even if one had memorized the whole thing. (Mishnah Megillah 2:1- see text here.)

Now, that’s interesting, especially when one considers that just a month from now, we’ll sit down at a Passover table to tell the story of the Exodus, but we are not commanded to read a text, per se- just to tell the story and explain the central symbols of the holiday. The Passover text- the haggadah- is a tool, not the central idea. Yet on Purim, a lesser holiday, we have to tell the story by reading it out loud, from the written form, just as written.

Of course, the story of Mordecai and Esther is not more important in Jewish history than the story of the Exodus, but we should note that the story of Purim itself is told through texts- letters, laws, scrolls- from the decrees of Achashverosh and Haman, to the counter-decree which saved the Jews, to the command of Mordecai to remember the story itself, which was propagated far and wide by means of written communication:

“And Mordecai wrote these things, and sent letters unto all the Jews that were in all the provinces of the king Ahasuerus, both nigh and far, to enjoin them that they should keep the fourteenth day of the month Adar . . . . .”(Es. 9:20-21, old JPS translation.)

Now we can see a similarity between Purim and Passover: on Passover, at theseder, we re-create the experience of slavery by eating matzah and maror, and then celebrating our freedom with the feast, wine, and grateful prayers. On Purim, we re-create the experience of the Jews in Persia by hearing the story declaimed from a scroll, a text, just as if we are there, receiving the words of Mordecai, enjoining us to observe the day and remember the events which lead to it.

Hearing the megillah, we’re like the Jews who have just been saved, grateful to be alive, determined to replace evil with good, hearing the news proclaimed as if from the royal court itself. We don’t just tell the story, but live it. Just as Mordecai commanded the Jews of his day to give gifts to the poor and gifts to neighbors and friends, we give gifts to the poor and send gifts of food (see herefor details.) As they celebrated and gave thanks, we celebrate and give thanks.

Reading from the megillah isn’t about recounting ancient history, it’s about being in the events, right now- because its greater themes, of life and death, gratitude and celebration, generosity and courage, are not history, but the core of life itself, today.

Happy Purim to one and all,

RNJL

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Miketz/ Hanukkah: Small Things Grow

December 3, 2010 at 2:41 pm · Filed under Hanukkah, Holidays, Miketz

Copyright 2010 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Miketz/ Shabbat Hanukkah

Happy Holiday of Lights!

Our Torah portion this week continues the story of Yosef and his brothers in Egypt, and we read a special haftarah for the Shabbat of Hanukkah. This haftarah comes from the book of Zechariah, who exhorted the Jews returning from the first exile to rebuild Jerusalem and the Temple. He tells the High Priest, Yehoshua, to claim his role and promises that if he does so faithfully and ethically, the greater redemption will come:

“Hearken well, 0 High Priest Joshua, you and your fellow priests sitting before you! For those men are a sign that I am going to bring My servant the Branch” (Zech. 4:8, JPS translation)

“My servant,” in the context above, probably means the proper king of Israel, whose restored sovereignty would show that the redemption from exile was complete. Yet commentators have puzzled over the final phrase: “My servant, the branch,” or “I will bring My servant like a growing plant.” The final word, tzemach, means sprouting or growing plant, and could simply mean, in context, that redemption doesn’t happen all at once, but unfolds over time.

Hirsch sees an additional meaning in the image of “branch” or “growing plant.” For Hirsch, the metaphor of plant or sprout has the resonance of great things growing out of small things. He compares it to how an acorn grows into an oak: when you see an acorn, you can hardly imagine a huge oak tree, and when you see the tree, you can hardly imagine that it began as something you hold in your hand.

Similarly, the ultimate redemption of humankind begins with small and imperceptible progress, and will unfold over time into something great and amazing.

That, to me, is another connection to Hanukkah, for every great historical accomplishment begins with small things: a conversation, an idea, a single courageous act. Setting aside for today any controversies about the historicity of the traditional Hanukkah story, we might simply imagine that the eventual victory of the Maccabees began with one action, one word, one decision. . . .and grew into something that changed history, just like the acorn grows into the towering oak.

Seen this way, Zechariah’s promise to the High Priest is also a call to every generation: do not despair that your deeds are too little and the darkness is too much, for great things grown out of small acts of faith and courage.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Hanukkah,

RNJL

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Hanukkah: Inner Freedom

November 16, 2010 at 5:04 pm · Filed under Hanukkah

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, the great Yeshiva University philosopher and scholar, once pointed out that contrary to popular American interpretations, Hanukkah could not really be a holiday celebrating the political freedom of our pre-millennial ancestors from their Seleucid overlords, because that freedom wasn’t very long-lasting. Rome arrived in the land of Israel only about a hundred years later and the laws of Hanukkah as given in the Talmud come from a time when political independence was already a fading memory under Roman rule.

To use Soloveitchik’s analogy- it makes sense to celebrate the Fourth of July as long as America stands strong and free. Yet if – God forbid- the USA somehow fell or was taken over by another political entity, could we imagine that fireworks and the “Star-Spangled Banner” on the Fourth would mean the same thing as they do today?

So for Soloveitchik, Hanukkah could not celebrate political freedom, because the freedom obtained by the Maccabees was short-lived and irrelevant to the lives of most Jews in history. Therefore- according to this understanding- Hanukkah is not about yamim ha-hem- “their days”- but zman ha-zeh, “our time.” That is, the political and military achievements of the Maccabees are incidental to the reason we re-enact the core event of the story, which is lighting the Hanukkiah, representative of the Menorah [lampstand] of the ancient Temple. Re-creating the illumination of the ancient Temple- the place of the Shechinah, or Divine Presence- is not dependent on political circumstances. It is only dependent on our desire to make our homes places of the Sacred, dwelling-places of hope, faith, reverence and spiritual renewal.

Wishing you and yours a Hanukkah of light and love,

Rabbi Neal

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V’zot Habracha: Breaking Tablets

September 29, 2010 at 4:56 pm · Filed under 5. Deuteronomy, Holidays, Simchat Torah, V'zot Habracha

Copyright 2010 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Simchat Torah/ Vzot Habracha

Greetings on this beautiful Hoshana Rabbah ! We’re about to go into the home stretch of the fall holidays, concluding with Simchat Torah, the festival of concluding the yearly Torah reading and immediately starting the new one. In just a few days, we’ll conclude the book of D’varim/ Deuteronomy with these verses:

“Never again did there arise in Israel a prophet like Moses — whom the Lord singled out, face to face, for the various signs and portents that the Lord sent him to display in the land of Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his courtiers and his whole country, and for all the great might and awesome power that Moshe displayed before all Israel.” (D’varim 34:10-12)

It’s fitting that the book of D’varim concludes with the death of Moshe, the story of his burial, and final words of praise: these three verses are like a concise summary of the narrative from the beginning of Exodus through the end of the Torah, covering 40 years of sojourn. Our friend Rashi explains each piece of the last verse: the “great might” is receiving the tablets of the Torah by hand (the phrase “great might” is literally “strong hand.”) “Awesome power” is miracles in the wilderness, and “before all Israel” is. . . . . the breaking of the tablets of the law at Sinai, when Moshe came down the mountain to find the Israelites dancing before the golden calf. (Cf. D’varim 9:17 for the prooftext.)

Now, this is interesting. Of all the praises for all the great works of Moshe, the Torah concludes- according to Rashi, basing himself on an earlier midrash- with a reference to his angry breaking of the tablets at Israel’s not-finest hour?

I think Rashi wants us to remember Moshe not for his meteorological marvels but for the moral miracle of willingness to confront idolatry in all its forms- even, or perhaps especially, among his own people. Commentators suggest that these broken tablets were also carried by the Israelites from Sinai, perhaps as a reminder that the medium of Torah is not stone, parchment, or paper- but people. Moshe’s signature act of leadership, in this reading, is not his conflict with Pharaoh but his prophetic pursuit of truth even among his friends and community.

Here is Moshe in a moment of great risk: he sees his own people losing their way and breaks the very symbol of their sacred covenant if it will shock them back to consciousness. That is, indeed, a mighty miracle, but not one that comes from God- it’s one that comes from a brave heart and passionate spirit. Most of us will not encounter a burning bush, nor call forth manna from the heavens: but all of us have the opportunity to break tablets, speak bravely, and act from prophetic ethics. That, to me, is why we should always remember that Moshe’s greatest miracle was not from above, but from within: because such miracles are possible today, and perhaps needed more than ever.

Hag sameach and Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

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Sukkot: Ingathering

September 22, 2010 at 4:29 pm · Filed under Holidays, Sukkot

Copyright 2010 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Sukkot

You shall observe the Feast of Weeks, of the first fruits of the wheat harvest; and the Feast of Ingathering at the turn of the year. (Shmot/ Exodus 34:22)

Shalom one and all!

We’re just about to start the week-long holiday of Sukkot, with its several mitzvot and interesting history, which includes its several names: Sukkot, or the festival of “booths;” Chag Ha’asif, or the Festival of Ingathering; or simple He-chag, “the festival.” Sukkot is called the festival of “ingathering,” or harvest, a few times in the Torah; the verse above is taken from the reading for the Shabbat which occurs during the week-long holiday.

The word used for “gathering,” or harvest, asif, is interesting, precisely because there’s a regular Hebrew word for “harvest,” which the Torah could have used if it wanted to make it plain that it’s commanding a harvest festival. Our friend Rashi learns from another verse that asif means not just harvesting, but bringing the grain into the house- that is, the whole process of preparing the harvest and storing it for later.

It makes sense to me that Sukkot is both the harvest festival, celebrating the bounty of the Earth, and also the festival of “gathering into the house,” understood metaphorically. We’ve just come through the “ten days of returning,” ending with a marathon of introspection and fasting on Yom Kippur. We took a personal and collective moral inventory, extended forgiveness when we could, tried to leave in 5770 what deserves to stay there. . . and now, a few days later, it’s time to gather the thoughts and experiences of the previous weeks, from before Rosh Hashana through Yom Kippur, and “bring them into the house,” that is, into ourselves, into the way we live. It’s a time to take the experience of the Days of Awe out into the “real world,” as a Sukkah is literally only valid if it’s outdoors, outside our private realms.

We gather the sparks from Torah learning, prayer and self-reflection over the Days of Awe and bring them into the Sukkah, where we celebrate, feast and enjoy life- precisely because we are not stuck in the previous year, but celebrating the new one. Our physical harvest is the crop planted in the spring; our spiritual harvest is forward-looking, towards the “turn of the year,” as we rededicate ourselves to those ideals and goals which are the worthy basis of life itself.

A happy and joyous holiday season to one and all,

RNJL

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