When I was growing up, I was jealous of my Catholic friends who went to catechism. Although my parents were eventually able to afford Hebrew school for my younger brother, my older sister and I didn’t get to go. As a result, I grew up with no Jewish education. Zip. Zilch. Nada. I was clueless. I only knew the Jewish holidays that appeared on secular calendars. I thought all Orthodox people were old and that Orthodoxy would disappear when they died. I thought the difference between a Bat Mitzvah and a Bas Mitzvah was that one was Reform and one was Conservative.
After graduate school, I began learning about Judaism the way someone else might learn about Latvian marriage customs or Thai music - as a purely intellectual pursuit. What was Judaism beyond a collection of ritual behaviors and a cycle of holidays?
One of the biggest surprises to me was the Jewish emphasis on character development. Being Jewish wasn’t limited to concrete actions, like foregoing shrimp in lobster sauce or lighting Shabbat candles. Being Jewish meant refining one’s character. Traditional Judaism demands that we become better people, not as some lofty, amorphous goal, but in surprisingly concrete ways.
I vividly recall a scene in a local grocery store many years ago. While waiting in line, I watched a woman who had recently checked out come back into the store, return to the cashier and say, “Excuse me, but you gave me too much change,” while handing back the extra coins. I suspect most people would have shrugged, pocketed the extra money and never given it another thought. But this woman was identifiably Jewish. We look to this week’s parsha to shed light on why she took the trouble to return the few coins that didn’t belong to her.
This week’s parsha is Mishpatim, which translates as laws, rules or judgments. The first letter of the parsha is a vav – which is the Hebrew equivalent of “and”. Although most of us were taught to never to begin a sentence with the word “and”, this entire parsha begins with “And”. Grammatically, this vav links the laws of this parsha with those that have been stated previously. To which previously stated laws does this refer?
According to Rashi (11th century), the laws given in Mishpatim are from Sinai, just as the Ten Commandments, given in last week’s parsha, are from Sinai. “From Sinai” is code for “from G-d”. Rashi is teaching us that the laws in this week’s parsha come from G-d, just the same as the Ten Commandments.
Thanks to Cecil B. DeMille, it’s hard to imagine that there’s a Jew who hasn’t heard of The Ten Commandments. Since Rashi is telling us that the laws of Mishpatim are from the same Divine Source as the Ten Commandments, how do we explain the fact that most Jews are unfamiliar with the laws of Mishpatim?
A common and understandable first impression of Mishpatim is that it’s filled with arcane rules that might have governed civil society in biblical times, but have no resonance today. Mishpatim includes, among other things, laws regarding Hebrew slaves, oxen that gore people, digging pits and killing sorceresses. It’s natural to ask how these laws can help us grow spiritually today.
Look closer. With the right teacher to illuminate it, the teachings of Mishpatim are full of character-refining lessons. Treat orphans and widows especially kindly. Don’t embarrass someone who is unable to repay a loan. Accept financial responsibility for damage caused by your pet. Don’t lie. Return lost items. Lend money to those who need it, not as charity, but as a Jewish obligation.
Rabbi Zelig Pliskin (20th century) is a master at helping contemporary Jews make the connection between “obscure” Torah laws and our daily lives. For example, in Love Your Neighbor, Rabbi Pliskin draws on the verse, “When you will encounter an ox of your enemy or his donkey wondering, you shall surely return it to him.” (Exodus 23:4) and takes seven pages to emphasize the importance of returning lost objects.
The Jewish woman I saw in the grocery store returning money that didn’t belong to her wasn’t just doing a nice thing. Mishpatim teaches us that she was doing a Jewish thing, just as much as if she had lit a Chanukah candle or fasted on Yom Kippur.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Shemot 5763
This week’s parsha is Shemot, which means names. Since the most familiar biblical names – Abraham, Moses, King David, etc. - are the names of men, some erroneously conclude that women are all but ignored by the Torah. How pleased I am to comment on Shemot. It gives me a chance to illustrate that, although sometimes hidden beneath the surface, the Torah is actually full of stories about women.
Even those who know relatively little about Judaism have heard of Moses (Moshe). Our tradition teaches that the prophecy of Moshe was superior to that of any other prophet, before or since. Moshe redeemed us from slavery in Egypt and brought down the Torah from Mt. Sinai. He led us through the desert for 40 years and is among the most important leaders we have ever had.
This week’s parsha includes the famous story of G-d calling to Moshe from the midst of a burning bush. But wait! Were it not for the women in his life, Moshe would not have lived to experience that remarkable moment.
Just before Moshe’s birth, Pharaoh, the ruler of Egypt, charged the Hebrew midwives Shifrah and Puah with killing all male children at birth. Moshe was first saved by the midwives’ intrepid defiance of Pharaoh’s plot of infanticide. Interestingly, there is a strong tradition that Shifrah and Puah are nicknames for Yocheved and Miriam – mother and sister of Moshe.
When Pharaoh’s infanticide plan failed, he decreed that all male children be drowned in the Nile. His mother Yocheved was able to keep Moshe, born during this decree, hidden for his first three months of life. When she could no longer hide him, she prepared a waterproof basket, placed Moshe inside and set her infant son floating in the water near the bank of the Nile. By fashioning a protective basket and placing him gently in the river, rather than drowning him in it, Yocheved saved Moshe from certain death a second time and gave him another chance at life.
Pharaoh's daughter went to bathe in the Nile, while her maids walked along the Nile's edge. She saw the box in the rushes, and sent her slave-girl to fetch it. (Exodus 2:5). Moshe’s life is saved a third time when the daughter of Pharaoh, whom the Torah names Batya, rescued him from the river.
Rashi (11th century) teaches that Batya tried unsuccessfully to get Moshe to nurse from an Egyptian woman. Rather than starve to death, [Moshe's] sister said to Pharaoh's daughter, 'Shall I go and call a Hebrew woman to nurse the child for you?' (Exodus 2:7). A deal was struck and Moshe’s own mother, Yocheved, nursed him until the age of two. This solution saved Moshe from death, this time by starvation, a fourth time.
After weaning, Moshe was returned to Batya who raised him as her own son, in open defiance of her father Pharaoh. When he was grown, Moshe went out among his people and saw an Egyptian slave master kill one of the Hebrew slaves. Confirming first that no one was watching, Moshe killed the Egyptian and buried his body in sand. The next day, upon learning that there were witnesses to his crime, Moshe fled to the land of Midian to escape the wrath of Pharaoh.
In Midian, he met Tziporah, one of the seven daughters of Yisro, the priest of Midian. The Yalkut Shemoni (13th century) teaches that that, not knowing the true identity of the stranger Moshe, Yisro threw him into prison and ordered that he not be given any food or water. Tziporah took pity on Moshe and secretly brought him food and water every day for ten years. Thus Tziporah, who later became Moshe’s wife, saved his life a fifth time.
There is a sixth life-saving incident, which occurs after G-d calls to Moshe from the burning bush, in which Tziporah saves Moshe again, this time from an angel of G-d who comes to kill Moshe for the sin of delaying the circumcision of his second son. This incident is found in the thorny verses of Exodus 4:24-26.
Moshe is the greatest prophet and most praised leader the Jewish people have ever known. But were it not for the praiseworthy women who saved him from death again and again, the Jewish people would have been eternally bereft of his peerless leadership.
Even those who know relatively little about Judaism have heard of Moses (Moshe). Our tradition teaches that the prophecy of Moshe was superior to that of any other prophet, before or since. Moshe redeemed us from slavery in Egypt and brought down the Torah from Mt. Sinai. He led us through the desert for 40 years and is among the most important leaders we have ever had.
This week’s parsha includes the famous story of G-d calling to Moshe from the midst of a burning bush. But wait! Were it not for the women in his life, Moshe would not have lived to experience that remarkable moment.
Just before Moshe’s birth, Pharaoh, the ruler of Egypt, charged the Hebrew midwives Shifrah and Puah with killing all male children at birth. Moshe was first saved by the midwives’ intrepid defiance of Pharaoh’s plot of infanticide. Interestingly, there is a strong tradition that Shifrah and Puah are nicknames for Yocheved and Miriam – mother and sister of Moshe.
When Pharaoh’s infanticide plan failed, he decreed that all male children be drowned in the Nile. His mother Yocheved was able to keep Moshe, born during this decree, hidden for his first three months of life. When she could no longer hide him, she prepared a waterproof basket, placed Moshe inside and set her infant son floating in the water near the bank of the Nile. By fashioning a protective basket and placing him gently in the river, rather than drowning him in it, Yocheved saved Moshe from certain death a second time and gave him another chance at life.
Pharaoh's daughter went to bathe in the Nile, while her maids walked along the Nile's edge. She saw the box in the rushes, and sent her slave-girl to fetch it. (Exodus 2:5). Moshe’s life is saved a third time when the daughter of Pharaoh, whom the Torah names Batya, rescued him from the river.
Rashi (11th century) teaches that Batya tried unsuccessfully to get Moshe to nurse from an Egyptian woman. Rather than starve to death, [Moshe's] sister said to Pharaoh's daughter, 'Shall I go and call a Hebrew woman to nurse the child for you?' (Exodus 2:7). A deal was struck and Moshe’s own mother, Yocheved, nursed him until the age of two. This solution saved Moshe from death, this time by starvation, a fourth time.
After weaning, Moshe was returned to Batya who raised him as her own son, in open defiance of her father Pharaoh. When he was grown, Moshe went out among his people and saw an Egyptian slave master kill one of the Hebrew slaves. Confirming first that no one was watching, Moshe killed the Egyptian and buried his body in sand. The next day, upon learning that there were witnesses to his crime, Moshe fled to the land of Midian to escape the wrath of Pharaoh.
In Midian, he met Tziporah, one of the seven daughters of Yisro, the priest of Midian. The Yalkut Shemoni (13th century) teaches that that, not knowing the true identity of the stranger Moshe, Yisro threw him into prison and ordered that he not be given any food or water. Tziporah took pity on Moshe and secretly brought him food and water every day for ten years. Thus Tziporah, who later became Moshe’s wife, saved his life a fifth time.
There is a sixth life-saving incident, which occurs after G-d calls to Moshe from the burning bush, in which Tziporah saves Moshe again, this time from an angel of G-d who comes to kill Moshe for the sin of delaying the circumcision of his second son. This incident is found in the thorny verses of Exodus 4:24-26.
Moshe is the greatest prophet and most praised leader the Jewish people have ever known. But were it not for the praiseworthy women who saved him from death again and again, the Jewish people would have been eternally bereft of his peerless leadership.
Vayishlach 5763
The story in a nutshell: Dina, the daughter of Leah and Yaakov (Jacob), went out from her family’s camp to visit with the local girls. Shechem, the local prince, saw her, took her and raped her. Under the pretense of future peacefulness between the people of the city and the family of Yaakov, Dina’s brothers Shimon and Levi convince the locals to circumcise all their males. When they are weakest during recuperation, Shimon and Levi exact vengeance by killing all the males of the city.
At first blush, this story presents a vexing problem concerning Dina. In the text, Dina is completely silent and utterly passive. Everything seems to happen to her. We never hear Dina’s words, only the words and ideas of the men in her life. Who is Dina? And where is her voice?
In response to this gaping void, Anita Diamant wrote the wildly popular The Red Tent. Diamant gave Dina a voice. I absolutely identify with the desire to know more about Dina, but I’m troubled by the fact that Diamant gave Dina an utterly fictional voice. We don’t have to resort to fiction. Our tradition reveals Dina’s real voice, as well as evidence of her influential personality.
In Sefer HaYashar (12th century), there is a rabbinic tradition of Dina affirmatively taking action. While she was captive in the palace of Shechem, Dina overheard a vengeful plot being formulated by local protesters who were furious over the decision to circumcise all their males. Dina sent a secret message to Yaakov to warn him of the plot. This action is strongly reminiscent of Queen Esther, captive within the palace of Achashverosh, sending communiqués to Mordechai, who is on the outside. These actions demonstrate one of the unique strengths of Jewish women – the ability to influence from behind the scenes. Look deeper. Dina, who seems utterly passive, sent a secret message, and, in so doing, protected her entire family from destruction.
Rabbi Uziel Milevsky zt”l (20th century) offers us further insight into Dina’s character and her destiny. Dina, the text emphasizes, is the daughter of Leah. As young girls, Rachel was destined to marry Yaakov and Leah was destined to marry Aisav (Esau), Yaakov’s uncouth twin. It is taught that Leah, through her righteousness, possessed the ability to turn Aisav to the good. Leah recognized that this was her destiny, but the Rabbis teach that she prayed relentlessly to alter it. G-d honored her request and she married Yaakov instead.
However, the mission to marry and transform Aisav, unfulfilled by Leah, was inherited by her daughter, Dina. Rabbi Milevsky teaches that, like her mother, Dina possessed the personality characteristics that would have allowed her to positively impact Aisav. Rehabilitating Aisav was Dina’s destiny, the spiritual purpose she inherited from her mother.
However, Yaakov wanted desperately to maintain distance from his impious brother. He did everything he could do to keep Dina and Aisav apart. Yaakov hid Dina in a trunk. There was no chance that Aisav would even lay eyes on her. In this way, Yaakov kept Dina’s destiny from being fulfilled.
Denied the chance to fulfill her ultimate purpose, Rabbi Milevsky teaches, Dina had to redirect her gift of positively influencing others. Her truest destiny thwarted, she “went out” to establish contact with the Canaanite girls, to teach them about monotheism. Regrettably, she failed to anticipate the dangerous character of Shechem, who seized her when she was outside the protection of her family’s camp.
Later, Yaakov blesses his sons from his deathbed. But his blessings often don’t sound like blessings at all. They’re statements. You’re this kind of person. You’re that kind of person. What’s the blessing in that?
Rebbetzin Holly Pavlov in Jerusalem teaches that it’s a blessing to know who you are and what your special mission in life is. Just as G-d gave Dina a charismatic personality, capable of influencing Aisav for good, G-d gives each of us our own uniqueness. Our spiritual responsibility is to figure out what exceptionality and unique purpose G-d bestowed upon us. And then fulfill it!
Yaakov’s sons were told precisely who they are. The rest of us have to quiet ourselves sufficiently to listen for it. Your unique gift will resonate at a distinct pitch, meant only for you. Once you hear it, you must act. This is the lesson we learn from Dina.
At first blush, this story presents a vexing problem concerning Dina. In the text, Dina is completely silent and utterly passive. Everything seems to happen to her. We never hear Dina’s words, only the words and ideas of the men in her life. Who is Dina? And where is her voice?
In response to this gaping void, Anita Diamant wrote the wildly popular The Red Tent. Diamant gave Dina a voice. I absolutely identify with the desire to know more about Dina, but I’m troubled by the fact that Diamant gave Dina an utterly fictional voice. We don’t have to resort to fiction. Our tradition reveals Dina’s real voice, as well as evidence of her influential personality.
In Sefer HaYashar (12th century), there is a rabbinic tradition of Dina affirmatively taking action. While she was captive in the palace of Shechem, Dina overheard a vengeful plot being formulated by local protesters who were furious over the decision to circumcise all their males. Dina sent a secret message to Yaakov to warn him of the plot. This action is strongly reminiscent of Queen Esther, captive within the palace of Achashverosh, sending communiqués to Mordechai, who is on the outside. These actions demonstrate one of the unique strengths of Jewish women – the ability to influence from behind the scenes. Look deeper. Dina, who seems utterly passive, sent a secret message, and, in so doing, protected her entire family from destruction.
Rabbi Uziel Milevsky zt”l (20th century) offers us further insight into Dina’s character and her destiny. Dina, the text emphasizes, is the daughter of Leah. As young girls, Rachel was destined to marry Yaakov and Leah was destined to marry Aisav (Esau), Yaakov’s uncouth twin. It is taught that Leah, through her righteousness, possessed the ability to turn Aisav to the good. Leah recognized that this was her destiny, but the Rabbis teach that she prayed relentlessly to alter it. G-d honored her request and she married Yaakov instead.
However, the mission to marry and transform Aisav, unfulfilled by Leah, was inherited by her daughter, Dina. Rabbi Milevsky teaches that, like her mother, Dina possessed the personality characteristics that would have allowed her to positively impact Aisav. Rehabilitating Aisav was Dina’s destiny, the spiritual purpose she inherited from her mother.
However, Yaakov wanted desperately to maintain distance from his impious brother. He did everything he could do to keep Dina and Aisav apart. Yaakov hid Dina in a trunk. There was no chance that Aisav would even lay eyes on her. In this way, Yaakov kept Dina’s destiny from being fulfilled.
Denied the chance to fulfill her ultimate purpose, Rabbi Milevsky teaches, Dina had to redirect her gift of positively influencing others. Her truest destiny thwarted, she “went out” to establish contact with the Canaanite girls, to teach them about monotheism. Regrettably, she failed to anticipate the dangerous character of Shechem, who seized her when she was outside the protection of her family’s camp.
Later, Yaakov blesses his sons from his deathbed. But his blessings often don’t sound like blessings at all. They’re statements. You’re this kind of person. You’re that kind of person. What’s the blessing in that?
Rebbetzin Holly Pavlov in Jerusalem teaches that it’s a blessing to know who you are and what your special mission in life is. Just as G-d gave Dina a charismatic personality, capable of influencing Aisav for good, G-d gives each of us our own uniqueness. Our spiritual responsibility is to figure out what exceptionality and unique purpose G-d bestowed upon us. And then fulfill it!
Yaakov’s sons were told precisely who they are. The rest of us have to quiet ourselves sufficiently to listen for it. Your unique gift will resonate at a distinct pitch, meant only for you. Once you hear it, you must act. This is the lesson we learn from Dina.
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