This week’s parashah is Ki tisa, which literally means “when you lift up”.one of my favorites to leyn from the Torah. I am in love with its message about second chances, In despair and disappointment  over that little rebellious thing called the Golden calf, Moses’ becomes driven to go up to the mountain and plead “hareini et c’vodecha!” And G!d places Moshe in the cleft of the rock and we receive a new covenant based upon the 13 middot of love and compassion. 

Wondrously I found multiple connections to someone in my own family whose name is featured in this parashah

My beloved  Grandpa’s Hebrew name was  Betzalel who is introduced here are the chief artisan of the mishkan,, and he was chosen as an artist of the mishkan because of Chochma lev, wisdom of the heart. My grandpa was not an artist, he was a CPA, an accountant -also he was wise of heart. Lest you think that’s not a connection

“You shall lift up the heads of the Israelites to count them in a census” Exodus 30:11

So why are we lifting up the heads of the Israelites – in order to count them. And why are we counting them so many times?. Sforno says something fascinating “the need to count human beings stems from the fact that human beings are not the same each time,” I love the idea of lifting up to count, and to recount b/c of the possibility of change

And as I looked for a common thread I realized that my grandpa lifted me up so many times, ki tisa,

 and in his eyes I always counted. 

So, a name, and counting. Another connection is that of second chances. AS Moshe gets a second chance, so our family

His father a refugee from the Kossack draft, his father fled to America, then brought his wife to join. Our families did not give up, life in Romania was so harsh, they came here, where this country gave them all a second chance. He carved out for his family a beautiful life in this new world, and crafted a mishkan for our family based on love and kindness and righteous acts. He persisted through the great depression, courted my Grandma long distance while he went to college, education drawing them out of poverty.

Fourth connection

Also in this parashah is the text for V’shamru – the children of Israel shall keep Shabbat , as a sign of the covenant between G!d and Israel forever, because on six days G!d rested, but on the seventh, Shavat vayinafash, G!d re-souled

And that each Shabbat, every Saturday, my brother and I were dropped off at Grandma and Grandpa’s house -which was an oasis of love.On Shabbat –he would walk home from shul singing, but he couldn’t afford to rest for the entire day. He supported his aging mother, his brother’s family, and assisted my own. But I think that his Shabbat was enough time for him to “nafash” re-soul, for  was a living embodiment of the middot, , loving compassionate, full of grace,

One more thread of connection to this parashah is the k’toret hasamim – the incense.  My grandparents home always smelled amazing, the aromas of baking and cooking helped to create that oasis. It’s known that smell is the sense most intimately connected to memory and emotion. And I’ve passed on the home cooking bug to all 3 of my children.

So Moshe carved two tablets like the ones he smashed, emboldened perhaps by his failure the first time up the mountain, he experiences G!d’s cavod.  He returns from this second chance with a new covenant, his face radiant – keren ohr, rays of light shining from his face. My Grandfather’s face was often radiant with wisdom of the heart!  A blessing: may we know we count for our own chochma lev, valuing that G!d given essence whether our talent is numbers or art or music May the righteous acts we perform be the k’toret hasamim .And may we find in doing them we are lifted up ki tisa – beyond our worries into  perspective and compassion, and may our faces shine knowing we are loved.

Drash for erev Purim

In my classroom I sometimes tell terrible puns,

My grandpa was a great punster

As is my Zohar teacher, Elliot Ginsburg

Why are jokes funny – it’s the unexpected juxtaposition of two things that go together.

That’s’ why Purim is such a radical, spiritual holiday, and maybe why humor is such a great Jewish thing.

Shema Yisrael, listen up, Yah our G!d is one, and ein od – there is nothing else, all is G!d.

Wait, all? The thorns and the rose,  what about the people that disagree with us. I know all about them, I know their story and refuse to listen any more. I did that to a relative in January, “writing him off” I said and Purim is the only thing that brought me around.

What if we could really blur the edges between Mordechcccai and Haman, to see ourselves in the eye of the other, to hold out the possibility that they might change from one nano second to the next.

Jill Hammer writes:  Mordechai represents the desire in us not to bow down to anyone. Haman symbolizes the desire in us for power over others.

A world of peace, war will cease,  I can see you are me in disguise, I’ll wipe the tears from your eyes.

Roberta spoke of this earlier in the week:  I am the pirate, I am the abused one

Dangerous, radical, this one-ness, maybe even funny. But it could lead to redemption.

Yesterday I shared the words of R’ Ariel Burger about his mentor Elie Weisel: the face of Elie Wiesel is a map of the world if the world had been wounded and still managed to laugh.

Ariel went on to talk about having an“an open heart, in spite of everything.”

And Wiesel said “I teach with an open heart, not for moral reasons, but for pragmatic ones.”

Understanding of what our role is here on this planet is why we must embrace opposites, Mordechai and Haman, science and spirit, strength and love,-to hold opposites at views at the same time, to create a chimera, a hybrid, a collage, a synthesis which is balanced as the sephirot of chesed and din are balanced

Embracing Opposites

How do we merge the two?

How do we hold the dissonance

How do we cleave to You

In this eternal dance?

G!d’s love is a rose,

But what of brutal thorns?

what are we to do:

how do they become You?

How do we merge the love of G!d

Holding it with the Judge as G!d?

How can hope for redemption jibe

with history cruel beyond imagination

The soaring mind of Rambam 

with Zohar’s erotic  passion?

Bewildering, inspiring

Answer my burning question.

And face of Elie Wiesel –

Is a map of the world,

if the world had been wounded,

yet still managed to laugh.

How do we merge the two?

How do we hold the dissonance

How do we cleave to You

In this eternal dance?

We need to hold opposites

 in our embrace.

interplay of awe and wisdom

Ignites G!d in this place

Bringing Boundless energy and Compassion

The interplay of awe with wisdom

Ramban alone, science – could mean a cool, cruel, uncaring, though-awe inspiring G!D

With all of its splendor, its draft with lonely (David Wilcox)

How could Zohar – magic bunk according to Gratz – not received Mi Sinai, rather written Ramak, yet how can its beauty and its artistry carry us away on the wings of hope and possibility?

Ariel Burger described the face of Elie Wiesel – a map of the world, if the world had been wounded, yet learned to laugh

How do we merge the two: knowledge of the Holocaust with still maintaining possibilities for hope, laughter, redemption

Imagination is more important than knowledge, for it encompasses all  – Einstein

Understanding of what our role is here on this planet with scientific understanding of our planet and our bodies?

I am convinced it is absolutely necessary to see both – to hold opposites at views at the same time, to create a chimera, a hybrid, a collage, a synthesis which is balanced as the sephirot of chesed and din are balanced.

Giving as the gift. When a soul is full of gratitude we may be inspired to give, and in doing gain even more. Gratitude, I am convinced more and more, may be the whole ball game, what we’re here for.

But back to our story. When we Israelites were wandering in the wilderness, God redeemed us at the Sea and we became bound in covenant at Sinai. Tradition says we were all of us there in our makom, place around the mountain. When the day came, where it was time to leave the place of our inspiration. I remember saying“I don’t want to go back to work” Oh, we have to go? Then I want to take all of this amazing feeling with us.

What have been your moments of clarity and inspiration, where the one-ness just overwhelms. When we intuit our place around the mountain and G!d calls our name? Maybe you have taken part in protest marches. Or were part of the vast desert sky full of stars, Or that moment of seeing your bashert, or your new born child for the first time How do we leave these Holy encounters and go back to the mundane tasks of life?

Torah’s answer: Give from your heart, make something beautiful– a space where G!d can dwell. Make it to divine specs The word Mishkan, the name for the portable sanctuary we would build, comes  from the same word as Shechinah. Maybe the space you will be building for G!d to dwell will be in your own heart.  G!d spoke to Moses, saying:

וְיִקְחוּ־לִ֖י תְּרוּמָ֑ה

Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him.

gold, silver, and copper;

וּתְכֵ֧לֶת וְאַרְגָּמָ֛ן וְתוֹלַ֥עַת שָׁנִ֖י וְשֵׁ֥שׁ וְעִזִּֽים׃

blue, purple, and crimson yarns, fine linen, goats’ hair;

tanned ram skins, dolphin skins, and acacia wood;

oil for lighting, spices for the anointing oil and וְלִקְטֹ֖רֶת הַסַּמִּֽים׃ the aromatic incense;

lapis lazuli and other stones for setting, for the ephod and for the breastpiece.

וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם׃

And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell within them.

Reb Nachman of Bratzlav says in that when you open your heart to give, your heart remains open to receive from above. And what you receive in return is something more precious than metals, gems and the other offerings. When you open your heart to give, what you receive comes from the “Supernal Heart”, Noam HaElyon, the Divine Pleasantness.

there is something about giving with all your heart. You get more than you give. In the afterglow of Sinai so many people gave, Moses had to say ‘stop” enough. We did it together

Perhaps redemption at the sea and seeing the thunder at Sinai were for actually for this -communal heart opening

What would you give at Sinai – that’s personal and beautiful and real?

For me music. has been my sulam, my ladder to the heavens, healing and heart opening. In the past, my giving has brought me to assisted living facilities for many years to play old time songs, and Jewish songs at the time of the holidays. You should see folks come alive when songs from their childhood are sung. Music has the charm to soothe the savage breast.  Music is my t’chelet, v’argaman, my k’toret hasamim.  And it’s been sad not to be able to give in this way during the past year.  And I just realized the other day, speaking to my mashpiyah, that my volunteering here at Romemu morning minyan has come along just at this time, and has become my way to give. And so many people have given, Sue and Elana, their poems, Jen and Jamie, Carney, Laurie lend their voices, on FB folks give strong support, reliable as clockwork. R’ Mira gives her all. We’ve built a Mishkan. We take it through our days We did  it together, And our hearts are better dwelling places for the Divine.

Olam chesed yibaneh.

We have  experienced so much drama in Torah these last weeks, as we have at home: Redemption at the sea, Revelation at Sinai. Now in Parashat Mishpatim, meaning Laws, we learn that Sinai’s inspiration is carried forward by the perspiration of the way we act toward one another, to recognize the tzelem, the image of G!d in the other . 

In the few verses I’m honored to read on Shabbat are laws about taking responsibility for things you set in motion, even if you didn’t do them yourself:

If you let your animals graze and they eat grain or food from another’s field, you must pay double. If you start a fire, and it consumes food in another’s field, you must pay back double, or volunteer to work in their field. You set the fire, or the grazers in motion and you must take responsibility when things went out of control and other people were infringed upon. They might starve b/c of your actions. You are responsible.  

Do I have to say if you incite a riot?  On three things the world stands: Truth, Justice and peace.   PIrke Avot

But  if they are outside your group, a ger,  you should love them, and not oppress them, Why? Because, Torah says twice in this parshah:  you know their soul! you’ve been there – strangers in a land not your own, And in their eyes you are commanded to see your own soul!

I wrote this song for a drash on Mishpatim two years ago. Earlier that year our misdeeds against the stranger rose in glaring ugliness, as immigrants at our southern border were, and continue to be imprisoned and held in inhumane conditions.  For me the image seared in my mind of John Moore’s photo printed on the cover of Time, of the toddler crying beside a towering border patrol officer. The mother and child had been on the road for a month. Many families were separated, and human beings were called illegals

V’hager lo tilchatz, y’datem et nefesh ha-ger,  ki gerim heyitem

These and many other laws were entered into a contract sealed with the words: naaseh v’nishma – we will do, and we will hear. We do first, act justly, and perhaps then we will really be able to nishma – hear, not be deaf

HEAR THEIR CRIES, Margo Wolfson December 30, 2018

You already know how it goes 

To be so far from safety, from home

To be alone, to be a stranger in a narrow zone

Love the stranger, you were strangers too

Love the stranger, you know their soul

Hear their cries and know

You can be part of the healing, 

make things whole

A little girl cries in the nlght

Though they hear her no one comes to hold her tight

No one makes it right, or reunites

The world seems far too big and too cold

Without Momma beside her to hold  

Bridge

Naaseh v’nishma, We will help and then truly hear

When we comfort and dry the tears 

It can open the

To be free, to live in dignity

Naaseh v’nishma,  

Let us open our hearts and our ears

Cause there will always be mountains to climb

We can truly be there, 

even gather a glimpse of Divine

if we..

Love the stranger, we were strangers too

Love the stranger, we know their soul

We Hear their cries and know

we  must be part of the healing, 

make ourselves whole

I originally wrote this exactly four years ago, for DLTI but never published. A favorite kid’s book of mine is the Big Orange Splot, (Daniel Pinkwater), in which a sea gull spills a can of orange paint on the owner, Mr. Plumbean’s roof. Instead of repainting or erasing, the owner leaves the blemish, turns it into a sun image, and remakes his whole home to reflect his dreams. “My house is me and I am it. My house is where I like to be and it looks like all my dreams.” And the neighborhood responds, until all the homes reflect their owner’s dreams and soul. According to Rav Kook, the loving details of the mishkan show us the various ways to connect to G-d. Could Mishkan be a map of our hopes and dreams and very soul. But what about the “splots” – the disappointments, challenges, faults, shame. Maybe they are important too, like Mr. Plumbean’s splot, can become the sun in our scene!  

Mansion dreams in giant sizes filled me when I was younger

in center was a room made and star dust and light

E                      F#m7                                 G#m7         F#m7   B7

Today a tent will do, a canopy where together we can become whole

D                     F#m7                                 G#m7

I think there’s sublime design to my very soul

E                                 F#m7                                 G#m7                                     B7

Taking God with us, it’s how WE Carry  our Dreams through the journey of years

D                                              F#m7                                  G#m7          F#m7

How can our dreams survive intact through the all the fears?

Cut the cloth from love, Measure out the seams with care

cast jewels of joy on the breast plate and light that flame, eternal flame

Mansion dreams in giant sizes filled me when I was younger

What Remains in the center is a room made and star dust and light

E                      F#m7                                 G#m7         F#m7                           B7

Today a tent will do, a canopy where together we can become whole

D                                 A                                  F#m                 G#m

I think there’s sublime design to my very soul

But off on the side is a dark fearful room

D                      A

Hurt, anguish doubt emptiness and gloom

is this all sublime design too or simply my chains?

If I can embrace that place too,

a soft gentle breeze blows right through

to fan my ner tamid to blazing blue and yellow and purple and scarlet hues.

Points the way You Helps me see way through

Chorus

Why bother? What is the Reward for living a good life: is it during one’s lifetime, or is it in olam haba’a, the world to come? And what exactly is the world to come? And what does this all have to do with trees, and the Holiday of Tu B’Shevat, the Jewish Arbor day?

I have recently watched the wonderful new Pixar movie Soul. One thing the movie creates is an adorable version of the spiritual realms beyond earth, for souls waiting to make the journey to earth, and also hints at a “hereafter” for departed souls.  Is this the world to come, or is it our own future, the world which our children will inherit? The answer matters a lot, for the environmental crisis is nearing a crucial point. If we can envision a changed world, we can enable a beautiful planet rich in life that can support future souls waiting to be born. If we cannot, we have just plain failed. Now is the time!

All this year I’ve been studying Pirke Avot with Dr. Joseph Rosenstein. These paragraphs reflect wisdom and advice for folks in all walks of life during Mishnaic times, when Judiasm was reeling and recreating itself following the destruction of the second Temple.   In these Chapters are, evolving ideas of how the Rabbis of this period answer this question of the reward for living a good life, and it begins by defining “good” as a life of learning, spiritual service and acts of loving kindness. In Chapter1: 2, Shimon Hatzadik famously answers that the entire world stands on those three pillars!

Chapter 1:14 ends in teaching  im lo achshav eimatai. If I am not for myself, who will be for me, if I am only for myself, what am I, and If not now, when? The reward of righteous living is creating a good world, it’s up to us.

But in Chapter two, which is written later, we see a very different answer: In teaching 20-21 Rabbi Tarfon teaches “The day is short, the task is great, the workmen are sluggish, the reward is great, and the Boss (G!d) is insistent. Then in verse 21, which begins “It is not up to you to complete the work (G!d’s work), but you are not free to desist,…and Know that the reward of the righteous is in the world to come.”

Whoa, what happened since chapter one?

The task of living a life of the mind and spirit, rich with acts of loving kindness, it seems has grown overwhelming. For me this often seems true in our days too!  The idea of a ‘hereafter’ where justice reigns had taken a foothold in our imaginations, in order to persist with righteous living in the face of discouraging times.

But we return to our roots in Chapter three, verse 22 where Elazar ben Azaria teaches that the reward is in this world:  that wisdom and loving deeds afford the person a sort of “soul protection” in the face of life’s storms. And he does it by comparing a human to a tree! There are a couple of other sources that say a human being is like a tree. In psalm 92  – tzaddik katamar,  the Righteous person is like the date palm – bearing fruit into old age. Here in Pirke Avot, chapter three, Ben Azaria says there are two kinds of people:

1. The one whose wisdom is greater than their deeds is like a tree with many branches butfew roots, a strong wind uproots it and flips it onto its face. Further this person shall be like a lonely one in the wasteland, and shall not see when good comes; they shall dwell on the parched soil in the wilderness, a salt-saturated land which is uninhabitable. Eretz m’lacha v’ lo teshev.
2. The other type of person whose deeds are greater than their wisdom is like a tree whose branches are few but has many roots. Even if all the winds of the world come and blow upon it, they cannot move it from its place. Of such a one it is said they shall be like a tree planted by the waters, which spreads out its roots to the stream of water. Their leaves will remain fresh, they will not be troubled in the year of drought, and they will not cease to bear fruit.

Are there any other texts that liken a human being to a tree? Funny you should ask! In Deuteronomy chapter 20:19, is an amazing verse from where we get the command not to destroy food bearing trees (and all trees have some sort of food: acorns, for example). Never, even if you are besieging a city in times of war. The reason: because is a tree of the field a man coming before you? Fascinatingly, this verse can also be read: the human is a tree of the field!

Finally in Ecclesiastes Rabbah 7:13 G!d says to the human to look at how beautiful My world is. I made it all for you. If you corrupt it no one will be left to repair it.

 I’ve mashed up these texts for the holiday of TuB’shevat (a sort of Jewish Arbor day) into a song and an imperative.

Be like a tree,

Live righteously

who will remain after

 you to repair this wondrous world

Ki ha-ADAM

 EITZ HASADEH

A tree of the field is like

you or me

it’s fruit is sweet  

Ki ha-ADAM

 EITZ HASADEH

A tree of the field is like you or me

Be  someone

whose love is beyond wisdom,

With so many roots..

That Even if all the winds of the world come

to blow you down,

they cannot fool you

you shall be a tree planted by the waters

Be like a tree,

Live righteously

who will remain after

 you to repair this wondrous world

you will bear  sweet fruit

Ki ha-ADAM

EITZ HASADEH

A tree of the field is like you or me

Bo – Come to Pharoah Commands G!d! But Moses and Pharoah fail time and again in their mission to liberate their people And so the final three plagues will descend in ever increasing darkness. The first of these is locusts. According to National Geographic, there are 80 million locusts in a swarm. 80 million buzzing, moving bits of darkness, that devour your food and create another type of darkness: hunger and poverty.

Then the ninth plague, actual darkness, but no ordinary darkness, as we’ll explore. And darkest of all – plague of the slaying of the first born, is courtesy of the Angel of Death.

I have a confession. I hate the darkness, perhaps you do too? I know we need the darkness to appreciate the light, and that death is a part of life. But the idea that G!d is in charge of it – an Angel of Death, is deeply troubling. I have only recently in my (not so young) life come to (sort of) embrace sadness. In part to  R’ Jay Michaelson’s amazing book The Gate of Tears.  It is liberating, and necessary to be able to emerge into the light and joy. I have written before of the animated movie Inside Out and its ode to sadness and ultimately, joy.

I remember lying in bed in total darkness following the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy at 7:00 in the evening, thinking, I get it, G!d’s still here, even in the darkness. But I didn’t get it – I still meant the good and the light. Somewhere in my struggle, a friend recommended R’ Rami Shapiro’s book Amazing Chesed. He likens God to the sun, and G!d’s love to sunlight. The sun shines on us all, and very impressively, I might add, from 93 million miles away bestowing life through photosynthesis and warmth. But the sunshine can blind and burn – the impact or effect is part of the package, of the reality at the core of existence. He writes: Chesed (G!d’s loving kindness) isn’t a reward, it’s reality… You cannot control existence; all you can do is learn to work with it, to navigate God’s grace in such a way as to live graciously with a sense of radical acceptance, abounding compassion and deep tranquility.  

So the awareness of G!d’s grace can be a profound gift, even with the darkness. I add my own spin to this understanding: that G!d is the creative power that comes into play when components of the universe are in supportive relationship with one another: the relationship of chesed.   

Now, back to the plagues. Exodus 10:21

Then YHVH said to Moses, “Hold out your arm toward the sky that there may be darkness upon the land of Egypt, a darkness that can be touched.”  When’s the last time you could touch the dark? This is no ordinary darkness! Moses held out his arm toward the sky and thick darkness descended upon all the land of Egypt for three days.(Sefaria’s translation)  The next verse is telling,  How dark was it? It does not say “so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.” I transate it: (so dark that..) A person could not see his sibling and a person could not rise off their behinds for three days! And to all the children of Israel, there was light in their settlements.

Nachmanides comments that it’s a magical mist-like darkness. Maybe.  To me it’s clearly a darkness of the spirit. One that doesn’t allow you to see that the human being sitting next to you is your brother or sister. Perhaps further,  the loneliness that results becomes a depression – that doesn’t allow you to get off your bottom.

But the dwellings of the Israelites – well, they were painting their doors to look like wombs. (Thanks R’ Arthur Waskow) They were about to get birthed into a relationship with one another, with the land, and with G!d – to become a new free people. From the darkness they would emerge into the light, redeemed together.

Take away: we can be agents of chesed in the world, channeling that sunlight if we act together in love. And that’s more powerful than 80 million buzzing locusts!

Fred Rogers is a hero of mine. I watched Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood with my daughters as they grew. A wonderful movie from 2019 A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood is based on the friendship between Fred Rogers and a journalist, and an actual episode of the television show. The journalist, Lloyd in the movie, had heart had been broken as a child by the death of his mother and his Dad’s abandonment of the family in his inability to handle the loss. Lloyd never healed, and cannot deal with his father, with his childhood in any way. I don’t want to give too much away, but Fred Rogers, in Moses-like humility, sees Lloyd’s hurting and becomes a messenger of caring, a messenger of the Most High, and of healing for Lloyd. I won’t say more, except to urge you to see the movie if you have not yet, or view it again before next High Holy days

I suspect none of us escapes life without a broken heart. What do you do with the broken heart is the real question. Although my wounds were not as deep as Lloyd’s, I tried the same tactic as he, building a wall around my heart, believing in the fairy tales, that you can leave home and live happily ever after, never having to look back. I did not even realize how broken I was, until having to try to care for a very sick parent, I could not handle it, and had an emotional break. I will every be grateful for my family, and my spiritual counselor, my mashpiya ,who helped me look back honestly, to let them, and to the power of Love in this universe Healer of the Broken hearted. It took me a lifetime to heal, but man, did it feel liberating. I still struggle, but also remember the redemption and how great it felt. I should have wondered why I could cry buckets at a sad movie, but not when a loved one died – just feeling empty loss. I have done some rear-view crying. I feel more alive now than ever.

Perhaps all of this is why I resonate so strongly with Shir Yaakov’s beautiful interpretation Healer of the Broken Hearted. It is such a powerful name for G!d, I think of it each morning when I awake and listen to my heartbeat, and remember. Yet this week’s parashah seems to challenge this view with the words “ I will harden Paroah’s heart”. How can these be reconciled?

A new name for the Holy One is  introduced in parashat Va-era, spelled  YHVH, it  is unpronounceable, interbreathing of all life which, means existence. This  new name according to Rashi, and Talmud, and more, is associated with Chesed, loving kindness,. it is this name, YHVH, associated with love and compassion, that we invoke for compassion for our lives on the High Holy days, -this name -inter-breathing of existence (thanks R’ Arthur Waskow) who has heard our cry and will be our redeemer. So  our “fearless” leader, Moshe, when asked to go to Egypt and go to Pharoah so the Israelites may be set free, says in his vulnerability “I am  inadequate” The Israelites would not listen to me; how then should Pharaoh heed me, a man of uncircumcised lips (aral s’fatayim) say Moses in Exodus 6: 12. in his humility before G!d, and gets the promise that both God, be with him and his brother Aaron too. And that’s when YHVY tells Moshes “I will harden Paroah’s heart” Eventually Moshe is convinced he goes to Egypt with Aharon to be our salvation.

What of Pharoah’s heart?  If you look closely  7:13 when Aaron’s staff swallowed Egyptians,  in verse 22 after the plague of blood Paroah –  y‘chazek–strengthens his  own heart – to follow his own urges of anger and to be cruel. After frogs in 8: 11, and insects in 8: 28 and animal disease in 9:7 Pharoah weighs down his heart. Finally God, in  the plague of boils y’chazek, strengthen’s Pharoah’s heart.  Now fearless, Pharoah’s reveals his true self, the one that kills baby boys born to the wrong ethnic background as a show of strength.  

Torah teaches us: true strength is given us by a heart cracked open by awareness of the brokenness, In vulnerability, in letting God in, we let healing in, we can not only be redeemed,  we can feel each other’s pain.

Maybe the   tension between Moshe and Pharoah – humility and ego/ arrogance is also within us. The liberator and the enslaver are both within us. And that the wisdom that is empathy, born  of the healed heart is our Torah and it glows in our eyes. And is our strength

Times are heartbreaking now, beyond our understanding.  But we have all of this wisdom to lean on.  I’ll end with a song: based on Proverbs 3 by Ira and Julia Levin. Here it is on Spotify

When you need more than your own understanding, lean on the power of love

The wisdom you’ll hold is worth ten times the gold Some sell their souls for in vain

And a peace that surpasses every thrill on this plain. 

Is heard when your soul calls your name

And my roads all lead to peace    Let go of your hold and your sorrow will cease

Wisdom will shine through you like a light the trees

Wisdom will shine and you’ll be free and happy

I was going to talk about wonder today. And so much has happened since I began to write this drash. We’ve been shaken to our very core. In a prayer vigil on Wednesday night in response to the attack on the Capitol, R’ David Ingbur recalled the Midrash in which Avraham sees palace on fire,  a birah doleket, and Avraham was able to see wonder, and know G!d was there. But that fire was destructive. There’s a different kind of fire in the parashah, Shemot. Moses is shepherding his father in law’s flock in the wilderness, and he comes to the mountain of G!d. (Aren’t all mountains in the wilderness God’s?) Then These amazing words Vayera malach Adonai alav b’labat eish mitoch ha-sneh. And an angel of G!d was seen by him (Moshe) in the heart of fire in the midst of the thorn bush. And he saw –the word for vision Ra-ah is repeated so many times, a humble thorn bush, not an impressive sight, as a wonder! It’s leaves were burning, but not being eaten up. As our capital, our democracy were burning, they were not destroyed.  And Moshe said “I must turn aside asurah na, v’ereh AND SEE et ha-mareh hagadol hazeh,  and see this great VISION.  Rabbi David ended Wednesday night’s service with Esa einai, I will lift my eyes to the mountains.

And I imagine someone gently with lifting my chin in their hand so my eyes can be lifted to hope and wonder

I lost a friend to cancer this week. I heard those same words at her funeral.

How can we, in these circumstances, lift our eyes, turn aside, and see wonder?

For me, words and music of praise help me wake up each morning adding layers of meaning, helps me to re-cognize the wonder.

In an interview in On Being this week, In answer of what it means to be human, Mary Katherine Bateson (daughter of Margaret Mead) answered “We live in a time of real urgency where we have to mine the rich words of our tradition.. We have to learn to use the word “we” to include all life on earth, and shape everything we do to protect it”  All life. All people, able and disabled, brown and white, male and female, and the more than human world as well.

As Moshe lived in a time of urgency.  He was a runaway dis-graced Prince of Egypt, reduced to shepherding for a Midanite Priest. And he would wander into the wilderness, and open his eyes because of a sense of wonder, would experience God, perhaps for the first time in his life, and find his life’s mission and purpose, and save us all. “And in his heart their burned a flame”  Wonder can ignite a flame in our hearts,  wake us up to our purpose, and lift our eyes. How can we jibe the wonder with the brokenness?

The kabbalists of the sixteenth century were refugees of the Spanish Inquisition, and knew well of brokenness. They had a brilliant answer. It’s all about creation, they said, where in a universe filled with G!d’s light, G!d contracted to make room for creation, storing the light in vessels. But the light was too powerful for the vessels and creation shattered into tiny shards, fragments that became corporeal existence. A residue of G!d’s light remains in each fragment Our mission is to re-gognize the holiness in the fragments, and reconnect the fragments as puzzle pieces, into wholeness, sh’lemut, peace. I share this poem of peace by student Rabbi Heather Paul that I have put to melody, and speaks so powerfully. (I hope to add a recording soon.)

God, You scattered the divine sparks 

so that we may find them in each other,

but sometimes, we forget to look. 

We are Your glistening fragments,

Your shards, Your stars. 

We stand here before you, 

ready to gather the sparks, 

ready to illuminate the world

(like One holy campfire.) 

Sim Shalom tovah u’vrachah, Peace, blessed and lovely, when will we be ready?,

We may be scattered, shattered

but we will glow together, grow together,

we will see each other’s shine

and maybe then, dear God,

we will finally be ready

for peace. 

Barukh Atah Adonai, ha-mevarech et kol ha’olam b’shalom 
Blessed are You, God, who illuminates the world with peace.

December 31^st, 2020

I wish to start by thanking R’ Elizabeth Goldstein, whose study of this parashah began my week with tears. The parashah Vayechi, meaning And he lived, opens with Jacob’s approaching death and will end the death of Joseph and close the book of Beginnings, of Genesis. It begins as the “days of Yaakov’s death drew near”.  He recognizes this and calls his favorite son Joseph to him, to arrange burial in Canaan. We will say goodbye not just to Jacob and Joseph but to all the richly flawed, and brave and deeply human icons of this first book of Torah. And our tradition says it will make us strong, we will say chazak, be strong! as we complete the book.

And Elizabeth asked us “what have each of us personally lost, and are bidding farewell to” and many of us who have experienced fear and loss and vulnerability. Thus the tears. By allowing vulnerability we honored these feelings, and so somehow made it possible to move on.

As we say goodbye to this year, on New Year’s eve.

The old year, with all it’s drama and pathos.

The old seasons. The days are longer, sap will flow, spring is coming.

And to too many souls lost.

What do we do? How can we move on with mortality so near?

Well what does Israel do?

He first invokes his father and grandfather and then calls his grandchildren near, calls them his own, invoking time and generations. Verse 10 chapter 47 – Israel’s eyes were dim with age, he could not see. And Joseph brought them close and he kissed and embraced them in gratitude. I didn’t think I’d ever see you, and G!d has let me see your children.  Gratitude is an enormous part of the answer. Then he makes a small tikkun,  a correction that will endure. All through Torah, where the first born child traditionally had the right to twice the inheritance of others, and to be the leader of the clan, G!d had other plans, and this has led to strife between brothers. Jacob crosses his hands in blessing Ephraim and Menasseh, the younger on the right before the older, in the order we still do things, though Menasseh was first born. Perhaps we can make sme tikkun too.

Then he gives the boys his Angel: may the Angel who has redeemed me from harm bless the lads. Ha-malach ha-goel oti m’kol rah y’varech et ha-naarim. My grandparents were my angels in childhood and have become again. I have a few things from my grandparents, including a challah cover with their names embroidered on it. Who have been your angels

May those angels who have helped us through this past year be with our children, with those who will carry forward beyond us.