Sermons & Taste of Torah

By TBA Rabbinic Intern Nico Losorelli

We have begun the book of Exodus–the book of Shemot– in Hebrew. We are beginning to tell—or retell—one of our most important, central, epic stories. The story follows Moses, with the help of Aaron, as he serves as God’s voice for the people who are suffering under the yoke of Pharaoh’s oppression. God miraculously delivers us from Pharaoh’s cruelty, demonstrating to the Egyptian world, and the rest of the world that God fights for and advocates for the downtrodden, the weak, and the vulnerable, showing the world that God’s might is greater than any earthly ruler’s might.

This week’s parasha, Parashat Shemot, begins this tale by introducing that a new Pharaoh had arisen in Egypt, who didn’t know Joseph and what Joseph had done for Egypt, and as a result sought to oppress the Hebrews (not quite known as Jews yet, so I’ll be using the term Hebrew) for fear of an uprising. We are then introduced to our main character: Moses. Moses’s story starts amidst the turmoil of oppression, and his birth takes place in secret, and he is hidden for three months:

וַיֵּ֥לֶךְ אִ֖ישׁ מִבֵּ֣ית לֵוִ֑י וַיִּקַּ֖ח אֶת־בַּת־לֵוִֽי׃ 

A certain member of the house of Levi went and took [into his household as his wife] a woman of Levi.

וַתַּ֥הַר הָאִשָּׁ֖ה וַתֵּ֣לֶד בֵּ֑ן וַתֵּ֤רֶא אֹתוֹ֙ כִּי־ט֣וֹב ה֔וּא וַֽתִּצְפְּנֵ֖הוּ שְׁלֹשָׁ֥ה יְרָחִֽים׃

 The woman conceived and bore a son; and when she saw how beautiful he was, she hid him for three months. – Exodus 2:1-2

His mother Yocheved had to hide him, because Pharaoh had issued a decree that every Hebrew boy should be thrown into the Nile, to perish. Yocheved defiantly and bravely protected her son for as long as she could, but things reached a breaking point, and in her desperation, she puts her son into a waterproofed basket, and places him on the Nile, in hopes of giving him a chance of survival somewhere else. It is a desperate gambit, and it pays of when the basket containing her three-month old son finds its way to the Daughter of Pharaoh– Bat Par’oh. Bat Par’oh recognizes that this is indeed a Hebrew child, and decides to rescue him from death, and raise him as one of her own. She hires a “Hebrew nursemaid”, who just so happens to be his mother Yocheved to wean and raise him, at his sister Miriam’s urging, who had been watching him float down-river with a careful and hopeful eye. After some time:

וַיִּגְדַּ֣ל הַיֶּ֗לֶד וַתְּבִאֵ֙הוּ֙ לְבַת־פַּרְעֹ֔ה וַֽיְהִי־לָ֖הּ לְבֵ֑ן וַתִּקְרָ֤א שְׁמוֹ֙ מֹשֶׁ֔ה וַתֹּ֕אמֶר כִּ֥י מִן־הַמַּ֖יִם מְשִׁיתִֽהוּ׃ 

“When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, who made him her son. She named him Moses, explaining, ‘I drew him out of the water.’” – Exodus 2:10

I realized in reading the parasha this week a question that had never occurred to me before: If Bat Par’oh—the Daughter of Pharoah—had named Moses after he had grown up, did he have another name before that? Did he have another name, perhaps his true name, that his mother, Yocheved called him by? Could it be that Moses’s (Moshe in Hebrew) true name wasn’t Moses/Moshe at all, but something else? It would make sense since many researchers have puzzled over the etymology of Moses’s name. Some have suggested that it was an Egyptian name in one form or another, and others have suggested additional theories as well. One might expect that if Moses had a different name from the potentially Egyptian one that Bat Par’oh gave him, that our Torah would reveal that name to us, and that, that revelation would be something monumental, revealing a truth about the reality of Moses’s identity, and thus a deeper truth about ourselves, but that doesn’t happen. There is no big reveal, it’s just Moses. Despite that, given that it was, and still is, commonplace to name a child shortly after they are born, I believe that we can entertain the possibility that Moses’s “true” name, wasn’t Moses/Moshe at all. Moses was a name given to him by Bat Par’oh, which was different from the true name that his mother so lovingly whispered and sang to him as she tried to get him to fall asleep night after night. Whatever that name might be, we don’t know it, and may never know it, so we have Moses, and there must be a reason for that. One theory about what the name Moses could mean, the name we remember, was put forth by linguist Abraham Yahuda, and the analysis he puts forward means that the name Moses could be loosely translated as “Child of the Nile”, which tracks nicely with Bat Par’oh’s reason for having named him Moses, because she “drew him out of the water.” This idea of “Child of the Nile” is one that I find so compelling, and one that makes my soul stir. We don’t remember Moses’s potential “true name”, but we do remember the name Moses, Child of the Nile. So why, then? Perhaps it is because Moses is so much more than a person, Moses is a symbol, Moses is a Child of the Nile, symbolizing both all of those who suffer at the hands of oppression and forces of violence, and all of those who look at a narrative of oppression and violence and say: “We will not stand for this, we will build something better, brighter, aspiring towards life, rather than destruction.” Whatever Moses’s “true” name might have been, it is not for us to know, much as it isn’t for us to know God’s true name, those are personal to Moses and to God, but perhaps what we do get to know is the symbol, as something to hold on to, remember, and protect, and remember that we are all Children of the Nile, in one way or another.

By Rabbi Rebecca Schatz

A year ago, November 2023, almost to the day, I went to Israel on a mission with the Southern California Board of Rabbis. 5 weeks post-October 7, a group, not much larger than a minyan, went to Israel to bear witness. Though while we were there we learned a lot, it was a trip to feel, to hug, to listen, to grieve. It was a support mission, not a trip to the Israel I lived or learned in. We heard from Jon and Rachel, Hersh’s parents, who were on day 50 something of his kidnapping into Gaza. We visited with relocated members of the different kibbutzim and the schools established to keep the kids safe and in regular rhythm. We walked the ruins of Kibbutz Kfar Azza, watching our step as we navigated fresh gloves, debris, and filled our lungs with the still lingering smell of murder and destruction. We did not go to Re’im, where the Nova Festival massacre occurred because Zaka was still taking forensic evidence and trying to figure out what happened. But we did visit Shura, the rabbinic army base where every body or human fragment was spiritually and honorably kept before burial. This was a trip of feeling so close that it was painful to leave and this was a trip of feeling so helpless that it was important to return and get to work. 

For a year, I have wondered when I would return and have felt empty without a reason to be back. When I was asked to be part of the Rabbinical Assembly programming committee for the convention happening in Israel in November of 2024, I jumped at the opportunity. Did I need one more weekly zoom on my calendar, definitely not, but this was my sure way to know I was getting back to Israel. So this past week, from Monday through Shabbat, I was in Israel and it was a trip of repair, of hope, of joy and of true homecoming. 

After Joseph shares his first dream with his brothers and parents, his brothers are beyond annoyed and Jacob, his father, the Torah says, “keeps the matter in mind.” The Talmud reflects that Jacob hears the dream, believes it will come true and keeps it in mind because as a father, he was looking forward to Joseph’s success and needed to monitor that in relationship with the other children. So the brothers go out to their pasture work and he says:

וַיֹּ֣אמֶר ל֗וֹ לֶךְ־נָ֨א רְאֵ֜ה אֶת־שְׁל֤וֹם אַחֶ֙יךָ֙ וְאֶת־שְׁל֣וֹם הַצֹּ֔אן וַהֲשִׁבֵ֖נִי דָּבָ֑ר וַיִּשְׁלָחֵ֙הוּ֙ מֵעֵ֣מֶק חֶבְר֔וֹן וַיָּבֹ֖א שְׁכֶֽמָה׃

And he, Jacob, said to him, “Go and see how your brothers are and how the flocks are faring, and bring me back word.” So he sent him from the valley of Hebron. When he, Joseph, reached Shechem,

וַיִּמְצָאֵ֣הוּ אִ֔ישׁ וְהִנֵּ֥ה תֹעֶ֖ה בַּשָּׂדֶ֑ה וַיִּשְׁאָלֵ֧הוּ הָאִ֛ישׁ לֵאמֹ֖ר מַה־תְּבַקֵּֽשׁ׃

A man found him, and behold wandering in the fields. The man asked him, “What are you looking for?”

Jacob makes it very clear to his son that his job is to check on the brothers and their flock, but to also bring back an assessment. This is not just about going to see them for himself, and ostensibly in some repair of the relationship, but also in order for Jacob to know what they are doing. And as the Or HaChayim says, Jacob made sure that Joseph had two destinations, one to his other sons and one back to him. Radak assures us that Jacob did not just want Joseph to find out how they were doing, but how successful they were at their jobs. Not only their health and well-being but also their economic well-being. 

This trip, I was Joseph. I knew I wanted to go, but needed to be encouraged by an outside force to make my way on the journey. I needed to know that I was going with a purpose and to truly check in, with my own eyes, on Israel. I needed to walk the streets of my old neighborhood, visit my favorite cafe, eat my favorite hummus, buy way too many Israeli gummies, hug my Israeli family and friends and just take a pulse of the country. I did not know that that was my mission, but once I was there it was clear that I had two destinations, into my heart and back into my mind. 

There were multiple tracks you could choose from in between limmud sessions with some of our the best teachers and scholars of our time. I chose a track of shared-society for the first day and a track to travel down to the south and experience the ecological differences and growth since October 7. It was important for me to be down south, just as Joseph went to check in on his brother’s emotional well being as well as economic, I also needed to go and see how areas had been cleaned up, memorialized, changed, built upon, or left alone since I was last there. 

The track focused on efforts of Jewish and Bedouin-Muslim communities, together with a small Christian population to foster mutual understanding and cooperation in the Negev. We began in Yerucham, and heard from a Bedouin woman from Rahme, who shared her powerful and painful story of living within a community where her rights as a woman were challenged by her family and traditions. I will not share her name, nor post pictures of her face, but we spent a lot of time hearing of her efforts to bridge between the struggles of forced marriage as a teen and then divorce to marry another man and is now working on degrees and advocating for Bedouin women’s rights. Her kids and husband are proud of her strength and resilience, and she still lives in fear of the culture and religious norms of her community. She finds comfort in the support she has through the Atid Bamidbar Organization where Israeli and Bedouin communities are working together to build mutual well-being for everyone in the region. This woman’s story brought to life the real struggles of living in this area as an unrecognized Bedouin community and yet, she flys a Jewish flag proudly in her room where she can privately share her devotion to the land. 

We finished the day at the Anoor Mosque in Rahat, where we met with Sheikh Jamal Al Ubra, Supervisor of the Mosques for the office of Internal affairs, for a discussion on interfaith leadership and community building. We walked up from the bus surrounded by children playing in the streets, laughing and kicking around soccer balls or riding their bikes. They kept yelling at us “hello” “welcome,” and even throughout the Sheikh’s presentation, they would stand at the door so it would slide open and would yell in “hello” and then run away. Kids are kids anywhere and in any religion and in any culture and it made every rabbi in that mosque feel very warm and at home. The Sheikh shared powerfully about how hard it has been for his community in Rahat since October 7. He said “here, there is hardly a family that does not have relatives in Gaza. And in the morning we arrive at the mosque and it is shaking. We as Israeli Arabs cry twice every time we see a child in Gaza is killed and when we see a missile fall in Tel Aviv or Rishon l’Tzion. We are the only group in the world that cries twice.” There was not a dry eye. We felt and feel his pain and his conflict and understand the teetering balance. He continued, “and I am hopeful. Hope will return to everyone and there will be peace all over the world.” With a hearty AMEN we all felt we were praying together. As an Israeli Arab working every day in interfaith leadership and connection, he implored us to remember that there are still Bedouin hostages and that we hope for everyone’s return. He said “on this occasion, I also want to thank you for holding the torch of hope through these days. The darkness is increasing and the days of light are short. Go back and hold the light for all of us.” 

So we, as Joseph did, left that mosque and hoped that we could share to open ears and hearts and minds the words of the Sheikh to hold that light in these darkest of days. On Hanukkah we say:

וְאֵין לָנוּ רְשׁוּת לְהִשְׁתַּמֵשׁ בָּהֵן, אֶלָא לִרְאוֹתָן בִּלְבָד

We are not permitted to use the lights, just look at them. Darkness, according to physics, is the absence of light energy, not a separate entity. So may we all listen to the light of these Bedouin voices and feel and hear that energy to guide us, ready to use it when necessary, but not in these moments of just recognizing and appreciating their light. 

Joseph hoped to return to his father with news of his brothers and their flocks and then got lost. Va’yimtzaeihu ish, and a man found him and asked him “what do you seek?” The rabbis have long discussed who this man was and why he knew to ask that question. No matter who the man was, the question is an important one for anyone on a journey, what do you seek? So maybe this man was Joseph’s inner thoughts while lost along the way. A man found Joseph – Joseph found himself, and asked what do you seek on this journey to your brothers? Why are you going? What is the importance behind the mission? Etc. 

After signing up for this trip, I asked myself the same questions. Why is this particular trip important to me? Why am I going at this time? Honestly, I did not have fully formed answers other than “I feel drawn to be back in Israel at a time where it is less chaotic.” 36 hours last year, 5 weeks after October 7, did not lend itself to a relaxing, see your friends and have a coffee, trip. This time, I was ready to learn, be in community with 200+ conservative rabbis from around the globe and just live in Israel as I constantly yearn to do. 

We went down, the second day, to Kfar Azza. The same kibbutz I visited last November, and yet it was completely different. Some destruction is still there, but the most tragic of debris is cleaned up and homes are memorialized and faces are printed on doorsteps. Motorcycles of Hamas were removed, the fences that were breached dragging people into Gaza were repaired and the silence of the ceasefire in Gaza from November 2023 was now loud, constant, noise across the very close border. On October 7, many of you have heard me tell the story that I called my dear friend David Landau. His family, living in Kibbutz Sa’ad, were safe, thank God, in their shelter, but he knew he would go into the army the moment they were allowed to emerge. I have not seen David because he has been in and out of the army since October 8. I knew he was currently “in” and the night before this trip to Kfar Azza he called to say he had less than 24 hours out of Gaza and would be able to see me. Hanging up the phone that night I started to cry. This was why I came to Israel. While standing in a road surrounded by burnt homes David walked towards me, in full madim uniform, and I could not have smiled bigger. Va’yimtzaeihu ish. And a man found me and I knew the answer to the question “what do you seek?” Hugging David, seeing my childhood friend, who luckily lived across the street from this destroyed kibbutz, unscathed and yet, as he kept repeating to me over and over “this could have been us, we had such mazal, such luck.” 

David only had about 30 minutes with us, and as we stood at the newly rebuilt fence, our back to the kibbutz and facing Gaza, I had to say goodbye. It was not enough time and it was not the shabbat with his family, or the coffee in a cafe or the hang on the beach of Tel Aviv that I was used to, but it was 30 precious moments that I will hold with me until the next time we see each other. I hugged him over and over again and kissed him on the cheek and said, “please stay safe.” I could not even wrap my head around him driving into Gaza 30 minutes later. How was that possible? And yet, this moment, this tough, emotional moment, was the answer to the question. This was the reason for a trip to Israel. To feel and experience life today, right now, in the beautiful and the dark moments. To hug and let go, to fear and live large, and to hope and listen to reality. 

Joseph goes to find his brothers at the request of his father. Did his father know or expect it would be for repair of relationship? We do not know. But Joseph does happen upon someone who puts life into perspective – why are you here as an existential question, not just geographic. I went to Israel without big answers to this simple question and came home to report that we should all go to Israel to find what we seek. For me it was repair, hope, joy and homecoming. I listened, and learned and felt pride in the conservative movement, which is important for my job and our vitality as a people. AND I went to Israel needing to feel home and that is exactly what I brought back with me. May we all find our answers on our life’s journeys soon, may our hostages be released to their homes, and may all people find peace in their home in Israel, now! Thank you for the opportunity to go home, for the opportunity to travel on journeys asking questions and for the space and processing to report back when I return. 

Shabbat Shalom!

By TBA Rabbinic Intern Aviva Frank

With the Gregorian New Year three weeks away, which of your 2024-year’s resolutions need to be renewed for a second year? Speaking of resolutions, how are your 5785-Jew New Year resolutions going? I ask, for how often do we take on a new habit or set a goal and fall short? With the approaching secular New Year and now three months from Rosh Hashanah, how have you held true to your word/promises? Don’t worry, you are in good company, as humans we tend to struggle with transformation.

In this week’s Torah portion, Jacob wrestles with an unknown figure, a man. A man who appears to an awake Jacob. Unlike in last week’s Torah portion, when Jacob dreams of a ladder with messengers of G-d ascending and descending, here it is neither a dream nor with his introduction being connected to G-d. Commentatories, Medieval to modern, debate who this man is- speculations ranging from him as the guardian angel of Esav, to the shadow side (guilt) of Jacob, to an archangel of G-d.

Jacob participates in a hero’s journey with this encounter: Adventure, challenge, transformation. The story unfolds as Jacob is preparing to remeet his brother after 20 years apart. In this scene, he is alone- a solo adventure. A man appears and wrestles with him- a challenge. He is left changed by the encounter, with a limp and with a new name- transformation. 

Let’s look at the text:

Three notable reflections from his hero’s journey are 1) That Jacob views the man he wrestles with as a divine being; 2) Jacob has wear and tear from his challenge; 3) After Jacob is renamed, the narrator immediately refers to him again as Jacob, not as his new name, Israel. 

Even our patriarch Jacob struggles with transformation! How quickly he returns back to his old self, being referred to as his old name. If Jacob struggles, and wrestles with transformation, how much more so do we. We can learn from this to be patient with ourselves, and to forgive ourselves. Similar to how Esav and Jacob find a way to forgive one another. They reconcile their differences in this week’s Torah portion, and even bury their father together. Shabbat Shalom.

By Rabbi Rebecca Schatz

Though I was named for my great-grandmother, Rebecca, I have always loved Rebekah in our Torah and am often asked if it is because we share a name. It is not, though I appreciate being connected to such a strong female character in our history. In last week’s parsha, Hayei Sarah, we are told more about Sarah through the attributes that Rebekah has taken on for her husband, Isaac, than through her own story retold. Sarah’s eulogy is truly the legacy that Rebekah is living. Rebekah, in Midrash, fills Isaac’s life with comfort, culture, and love that he only felt and knew from his mother Sarah. We never know that from the stories of Sarah in our Torah, but Rebekah has the intuition to continue on her partner’s legacy through adapting to family rituals, customs and values. 

Though Rebekah is seen as independent, strong and “different” than other matriarchs thus far in our Torah, in Parashat Toldot she is criticized for her parenting skills. And I want to disagree! As readers of an ancient text, we are worried that a woman could have so much power and leadership that decisions made were not intentional. However, Rebekah’s parenting has extreme intention, even if we are unhappy with the optics of uplifting certain qualities in our individual children.   

וַיִּתְרֹֽצְצ֤וּ הַבָּנִים֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ וַתֹּ֣אמֶר אִם־כֵּ֔ן לָ֥מָּה זֶּ֖ה אָנֹ֑כִי וַתֵּ֖לֶךְ לִדְרֹ֥שׁ אֶת־ה’׃

The boys struggled in her womb and she said “why is this me” and she went to receive explanation from God. 

God responds to Rebekah and says, there are two nations in your belly, two people will come from you. From “you,” not from “Isaac,” which is how we might expect the text to talk about children born to our patriarchs. The two boys, Jacob and Esav, grow up and our text tells us that Isaac loved Esav and Rebekah loved Jacob, but it does not say that they only loved those children. 

So where does the “bad parenting” rumor come? Rebekah hears Isaac tell Esav to prepare a dish in reciprocation for a blessing and Rebekah tells Jacob to do it instead. Is this trickery? Jacob tells his mother that he is worried about it and Rebekah already takes the blame:

וַתֹּ֤אמֶר לוֹ֙ אִמּ֔וֹ עָלַ֥י קִלְלָתְךָ֖ בְּנִ֑י אַ֛ךְ שְׁמַ֥ע בְּקֹלִ֖י וְלֵ֥ךְ קַֽח־לִֽי׃

Could it be that because Rebekah and God spoke before her children were born, she knew which son should receive which blessing? Our rabbis says that Isaac only loved Esav conditionally, based on behavior and attributes that he found admirable, but Rebekah loved without qualification. Maybe Rebekah, like she did with Isaac, truly knew what was best for her children and wanted to make sure that the blessings they received would serve them, and their future lives, well. 

Abraham, Rebekah and Jacob all have moments with God that lead them to make decisions for the future of their people, not just for themselves. Isaac has a hard life and is the recipient of much challenge and also much blessing; however, his relationship with God is not one of legacy building. Abraham, Rebekah and Jacob lead their people, our people, through relationship with God, intuition of community surrounding them and success for their nation. They are not perfect, and they are not without hardship, but they are leaders that show resilience, vision, and dedication to their people. 

Rebekah is a strong woman who knows her children. When Isaac is approached by Jacob, who he this is Esav:

וַיָּבֹ֥א אֶל־אָבִ֖יו וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אָבִ֑י וַיֹּ֣אמֶר הִנֶּ֔נִּי מִ֥י אַתָּ֖ה בְּנִֽי׃

Isaac says, “here I am,” “who are you, my son?” Who are you? Do I know you? Rebekah does not ask those questions. This does not make Isaac a bad parent and Rebekah the perfect parent, it just shows their connection and relationship with their children. I hope we can each read the Torah with compassion for Rebekah and a level of  דן לְכַף זְכוּת, of judging someone favorably because the have the best intentions in mind. Elohei Avraham, Rivka, v’Ya’akov – may these three ancestors shape the way we think of shaping our legacy with personal, communal and future goals in mind. 

By TBA Rabbinic Intern Aviva Frank

In this week’s Torah portion, Abraham tasks his trusty and loyal servant to return to his homeland and to find a wife for Isaac. The servant (identified by Midrash and commentators as Eliezer) expresses doubt for this mission, including, “What if she does not want to follow me?”  

Abraham responds in Beresheit 24:7-8 

ה’ אֱלֹהֵ֣י הַשָּׁמַ֗יִם אֲשֶׁ֨ר לְקָחַ֜נִי מִבֵּ֣ית אָבִי֮ וּמֵאֶ֣רֶץ מֽוֹלַדְתִּי֒ וַאֲשֶׁ֨ר דִּבֶּר־לִ֜י וַאֲשֶׁ֤ר נִֽשְׁבַּֽע־לִי֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר לְזַ֨רְעֲךָ֔ אֶתֵּ֖ן אֶת־הָאָ֣רֶץ הַזֹּ֑את ה֗וּא יִשְׁלַ֤ח מַלְאָכוֹ֙ לְפָנֶ֔יךָ וְלָקַחְתָּ֥ אִשָּׁ֛ה לִבְנִ֖י מִשָּֽׁם׃  

וְאִם־לֹ֨א תֹאבֶ֤ה הָֽאִשָּׁה֙ לָלֶ֣כֶת אַחֲרֶ֔יךָ וְנִקִּ֕יתָ מִשְּׁבֻעָתִ֖י זֹ֑את רַ֣ק אֶת־בְּנִ֔י לֹ֥א תָשֵׁ֖ב שָֽׁמָּה׃ 

ה’ the God of heaven—who took me from my father’s house and from my native land, who promised me on oath, saying, ‘I will assign this land to your offspring’—will send His messenger before you and you will get a wife for my son from there. 

And if the woman will not wish to go after you, you will be absolved of this, my oath; only do not return my son back there.” 

Did you catch that? 

Did this journey, a reverse of the journey Abraham and Sarah, include messengers or angels in addition to Eliezer?   

Who or what is this mysterious messenger, the מַלְאָכוֹ֙? His messenger that Abraham mentions as reassurance to Eliezer for this sacred task. Is this a human messenger or divine messenger? For the term מַלְאָךְ* can mean angel.  

Further questions: How did Abraham know this messenger would be sent? Did G-d tell him? Or did Abraham request it of G-d? And why did both a divine being and human being need to be delegated for this one task? How does this messenger impact free will or impact destiny? 

As the story unfolds, the term מַלְאָךְ does not appear again, but the term אִישׁ does- is this man and the messenger one in the same?  

Beresheit 24:21 

וְהָאִ֥ישׁ מִשְׁתָּאֵ֖ה לָ֑הּ מַחֲרִ֕ישׁ לָדַ֗עַת הַֽהִצְלִ֧יח ה’ דַּרְכּ֖וֹ אִם־לֹֽא׃  

The man, meanwhile, stood gazing at her, silently wondering whether ה’ had made his errand successful or not.  

And continuing in Beresheit 24:23 

וַיֹּ֙אמֶר֙ בַּת־מִ֣י אַ֔תְּ הַגִּ֥ידִי נָ֖א לִ֑י הֲיֵ֧שׁ בֵּית־אָבִ֛יךְ מָק֥וֹם לָ֖נוּ לָלִֽין׃   

“Pray tell me,” he said, “whose daughter are you? Is there room in your father’s house for us to spend the night?” 

An ask to decipher is her family as hospitable as she is; will she be a good fit for the descendents of Abraham and Sarah, known for welcoming guests. And who is this us? Eliezer and this man? Are they one and the same? Or is this man the messenger? Does the ’us’ include more people, an entourage? There were 10-pack animals in the caravan!  

Compare for example the protagonist in the following lines: 

Beresheit 24:22 & Beresheit 24:26

וַיְהִ֗י כַּאֲשֶׁ֨ר כִּלּ֤וּ הַגְּמַלִּים֙ לִשְׁתּ֔וֹת וַיִּקַּ֤ח הָאִישׁ֙ נֶ֣זֶם זָהָ֔ב בֶּ֖קַע מִשְׁקָל֑וֹ וּשְׁנֵ֤י צְמִידִים֙ עַל־יָדֶ֔יהָ עֲשָׂרָ֥ה זָהָ֖ב מִשְׁקָלָֽם׃  

When the pack animals had finished drinking, the man took a gold nose-ring weighing a half-shekel, and two gold bands for her arms, ten shekels in weight. 

וַיִּקֹּ֣ד הָאִ֔ישׁ וַיִּשְׁתַּ֖חוּ לַֽ ה’ 

The man bowed low in homage to ה’ 

Compare the above lines, to the lines below, and the switch in language from man back to servant: 

 Beresheit 24:52-53 

וַיְהִ֕י כַּאֲשֶׁ֥ר שָׁמַ֛ע עֶ֥בֶד אַבְרָהָ֖ם אֶת־דִּבְרֵיהֶ֑ם וַיִּשְׁתַּ֥חוּ אַ֖רְצָה לַֽה’ 

When Abraham’s servant heard their words, he bowed low to the ground before ה’.  

וַיּוֹצֵ֨א הָעֶ֜בֶד כְּלֵי־כֶ֨סֶף וּכְלֵ֤י זָהָב֙ וּבְגָדִ֔ים וַיִּתֵּ֖ן לְרִבְקָ֑ה וּמִ֨גְדָּנֹ֔ת נָתַ֥ן לְאָחִ֖יהָ וּלְאִמָּֽהּ׃  

The servant brought out objects of silver and gold, and garments, and gave them to Rebekah; and he gave presents to her brother and her mother.

Before we look at the Talmudic-era midrash, or expansion on the Book of Beresheit known as Beresheit Rabbah, what are the implications of angels being sent on this journey? Does this impact free will? 

 Rabbi Dosa addresses this question in Beresheit Rabbah 59:10 

וַיֹּאמֶר אֵלָיו אַבְרָהָם הִשָּׁמֶר לְךָ וגו’ ה’ אֱלֹהֵי הַשָּׁמַיִם אֲשֶׁר לְקָחַנִי מִבֵּית אָבִי, זֶה בֵּיתוֹ שֶׁל אָבִיו. וּמֵאֶרֶץ מוֹלַדְתִּי, זֶה שְׁכוּנָתוֹ. וַאֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּע לִי, בְּחָרָן. וַאֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר לִי, בֵּין הַבְּתָרִים. הוּא יִשְׁלַח מַלְאָכוֹ לְפָנֶיךָ (בראשית כד, ו ז), רַבִּי דוֹסָא אוֹמֵר הֲרֵי זֶה מַלְאָךְ מְסֻיָּם, בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁאָמַר אַבְרָהָם אָבִינוּ (בראשית כד, ז): הוּא יִשְׁלַח מַלְאָכוֹ לְפָנֶיךָ, זִימֵן לוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא שְׁנֵי מַלְאָכִים, אֶחָד לְהוֹצִיא אֶת רִבְקָה, וְאֶחָד לְלַוּוֹת אֶת אֱלִיעֶזֶר. (בראשית כד, ח): וְאִם לֹא תֹאבֶה הָאִשָּׁה וגו’ רַק אֶת בְּנִי לֹא תָשֵׁב שָׁמָּה, רַק מִעוּט בְּנִי אֵינוֹ חוֹזֵר בֶּן בְּנִי חוֹזֵר.  

“Abraham said to him: Beware…the Lord, God of the heavens, who took me from my father’s house” – this refers to his father’s house. “And from my birthplace” – this refers to his neighborhood. “And who took an oath to me” – in Ḥaran. “And who spoke to me” – [at the covenant] between the pieces. “He will send his angel before you” – Rabbi Dosa said: This refers to a particular angel. At the moment that Abraham our patriarch said: “He will send his angel before you,” the Holy One blessed be He designated two angels for him; one to bring out Rebecca, and one to accompany Eliezer.  

Can we find this angelic intervention into human affairs in other parts of Beresheit? See below about a reference to another mysterious man, who encounters Joseph as he looked for his brothers in the valley of Shechem.  

Beresheit 37:15 

וַיִּמְצָאֵ֣הוּ אִ֔ישׁ וְהִנֵּ֥ה תֹעֶ֖ה בַּשָּׂדֶ֑ה וַיִּשְׁאָלֵ֧הוּ הָאִ֛ישׁ לֵאמֹ֖ר מַה־תְּבַקֵּֽשׁ׃  

A man came upon him wandering in the fields. The man asked him, “What are you looking for?”  

וַיֹּ֕אמֶר אֶת־אַחַ֖י אָנֹכִ֣י מְבַקֵּ֑שׁ הַגִּֽידָה־נָּ֣א לִ֔י אֵיפֹ֖ה הֵ֥ם רֹעִֽים׃  

He answered, “I am looking for my brothers. Could you tell me where they are pasturing?”  

וַיֹּ֤אמֶר הָאִישׁ֙ נָסְע֣וּ מִזֶּ֔ה כִּ֤י שָׁמַ֙עְתִּי֙ אֹֽמְרִ֔ים נֵלְכָ֖ה דֹּתָ֑יְנָה וַיֵּ֤לֶךְ יוֹסֵף֙ אַחַ֣ר אֶחָ֔יו וַיִּמְצָאֵ֖ם בְּדֹתָֽן׃  

The man said, “They have gone from here, for I heard them say: Let us go to Dothan.” So Joseph followed his brothers and found them at Dothan.   

וַיִּרְא֥וּ אֹת֖וֹ מֵרָחֹ֑ק וּבְטֶ֙רֶם֙ יִקְרַ֣ב אֲלֵיהֶ֔ם וַיִּֽתְנַכְּל֥וּ אֹת֖וֹ לַהֲמִיתֽוֹ׃  

 They saw him from afar, and before he came close to them they conspired to kill him. 

 Rashi addresses this matter of who this man was by drawing too on Beresheit Rabbah 84:14 and on Midrash Tanchuma, Vayeshev 2:3. If the man had not been there and Joseph could not find his brothers on that day, how might the story’s ending have been different?  

 איש AND A MAN FOUND HIM — This was the angel Gabriel (Beresheit Rabbah 84:14) as it is said, (Daniel 9:21) and the man (והאיש) Gabriel” (Midrash Tanchuma, Vayeshev 2:3). 

 As we look with our modern eyes at these Torah texts, how comfortable do we feel with angels who meddle in and facilitate human encounters? (Ultimately G-d.) Does it negate free will? Rather can we see that free will is still available to the humans involved in these encounters, they still have choice on how to respond vs. react?  

 Why would G-d have wanted Joseph to encounter Gabriel on that day, and then his brothers? Could the brothers have met Joseph with compassion instead of anger? Did they respond or react? 

 Finally, G-d also facilitates opportunities for gemilut hasidim or giving loving kindness. As we see in our final example of mystery men in Beresheit, Abraham waits in the heat of the day, at the entrance of his and Sarah’s tent for visitors. Three men or angels appear to visit the sick (him) as he prepares to welcome them, the guests- the perfect exchange of loving kindness.  

 Beresheit 18:2 

 וַיִּשָּׂ֤א עֵינָיו֙ וַיַּ֔רְא וְהִנֵּה֙ שְׁלֹשָׁ֣ה אֲנָשִׁ֔ים נִצָּבִ֖ים עָלָ֑יו וַיַּ֗רְא וַיָּ֤רׇץ לִקְרָאתָם֙ מִפֶּ֣תַח הָאֹ֔הֶל וַיִּשְׁתַּ֖חוּ אָֽרְצָה׃  

 Looking up, he saw three men standing near him. Perceiving this, he ran from the entrance of the tent to greet them and, bowing to the ground. 

 *Locations in the Book of Beresheit for the word מַלְאָךְ: 

16:7 

16:9 

16:10 

16:11 

19:1 

19:15 

21:17 

22:11 

22:15 

24:7 

24:40 

28:12 

32:1 

32:3 

32:6 

48:16 

By TBA Rabbinic Intern Nico Losorelli

“God said to Abram, “Go forth from your native land, from the place of your youth, and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” Genesis 12:1

“לֶךְ לְךָ”“Go forth from your native land,” meaning all that you have ever known, “from the place of your youth,” from the precious irreplaceable memories you have, “and from your father’s house,” from the safety and loving embrace of your family, to a land that God will show you. This is an enormous ask for anyone, including our patriarch Abraham (then Abram). How does one even begin to answer such a call? How does one go for “oneself”, given that “לֶךְ לְךָ” can translate literally as “Go, for/to yourself”? How does one make such a leap, sight unseen? If someone were to say to you “pack up, and move to a mystery country—no, no, I’ll show you the house when we get there!” you might say “thank you, but no thank you”, and you would be completely within your rights to say no. So, when God tells Abraham to “Go”, Abraham seems to also be completely within his rights to say “thank you, but no thank you”, because God didn’t say “Go, go for me!” God said “Go, go for yourself”, which indicates that while this was a divine call, it was a divine call that Abraham had to be willing to answer of his own volition.

Surely the timing wasn’t great, but when is it ever a good time to leave behind everything you’ve ever known and build a new life? And surely the prospect of never seeing your father and homeland again, given that you couldn’t just zoom someone in the ancient world, never happens at the right time, but when would it ever? Despite this steep command from God, God still conveys “Go for yourself”. We all have some kind of “lech lecha” moment, and such a journey would look like for you or me would look completely different, but what our journeys do have in common is that they must start with a first step followed by a second step. The first step to follow the divine imperative of “לֶךְ”, and a second step to decide that you are truly choosing this journey in “לְךָ”, and it very well could be that you aren’t going for yourself, and must wait until you truly are going for yourself, and might even decide “this isn’t the path for me, right now”.

We stand at a moment in history in which the next steps lay on many different paths, paths for some that are thrilling, and paths for others that are horrifying, and those paths may very well diverge in many opposing directions. Despite these differences, from 10,000 feet we must remember that while we are walking different paths, and we very well may be navigating different terrains, we are still share the destiny of walking this earth together. My “lech lecha” is not your “lech lecha”, or your neighbor’s “lech lecha” or your friend’s “lech lecha”, and yet while we tread the same earth, we mustn’t tread on one another, given that just one verse later God promises to make Abraham’s name great, his descendants—us—a great nation and a blessing. We may not be able to walk the same paths, but as we enter a period of significant change we must remember that we are called to be a blessing, meaning that while we may struggle to bless one another’s paths, we must be a blessing

when we do cross paths, rather than a poisonous viper on the road, such that when we see our fellow human being on the road they say “Wow, I needed to see you, and what a blessing it is to see you” This requires humility, it requires care, and it requires that while each of us may be convinced of the rightness of our own path, it is only one of many, and like it or not, we are all in this together.

By TBA Rabbinic Intern Aviva Frank

This week’s Torah portion and the new Jewish month of Cheshvan both have lessons on rain, and not just any type of rain, rain at the right time and in the right amount. Rosh Hodesh Mar-Cheshvan began on Thursday eve and will overlap with Parshat Noah, as it is a two-day Rosh Hodesh.  

We began praying for pending rain with our lulav and an etrog during Sukkot. Praying for rain at the proper time is paramount. These pending prayers with our rain stick (lulav) are so, because if it began to rain in ancient times during Sukkot it would be seen as a curse, for during this pilgrimage festival rain would deter the festivities and be problematic for those traveling home post-Jerusalem celebrations. (Mishna Ta’anit 1:1-3) Equally important, is the proper amount of rain. On Shemini Atzeret we added/switched for the Winter months a special line to our Amidah or our whispering, standing meditation. We launched this addition with a communal prayer during the repetition of the Musaf Amidah with either Tikkun HaGeshem if one is Sephardic or Tefillat Geshem if one is Ashkenazic. These prayers highlight the power of water and the need for it in the right amount. As we pray in Tefillat Geshem: For a blessing, not a curse. For life, not for death. For plenty, not for scarcity. 

In this week’s Torah portion, we see the impact of too much rain (plenty) and flooding (death) and not by chance is it read this time of year- for in the generation of Noah on Cheshvan 17th the rains began to fall and flooding begun when “fountains of the great deep burst apart.”(Beresheit 7:11) Only a year later, on the 27th of Cheshvan, is when Noah and his family and all the animals emerged from the ark. Pairs of two for non-pure animals, and pairs of seven for pure. (Beresheit 7:2) What about the rest of humanity? Where did they go? Were they warned? 

Noah, unlike his descendent Abraham with Sodom and Gomorrah, does not petition or negotiate with G-d to prevent the flood. After all, Noah is “righteous before Me in this generation” but not in every generation. (Bersheit 7:1)

וַיֹּ֣אמֶר ‘ה לֹֽא־יָד֨וֹן רוּחִ֤י בָֽאָדָם֙ לְעֹלָ֔ם בְּשַׁגַּ֖ם ה֣וּא בָשָׂ֑ר וְהָי֣וּ יָמָ֔יו מֵאָ֥ה וְעֶשְׂרִ֖ים שָׁנָֽה׃ 

‘ה said, “My breath shall not abide in humankind forever, since it too is flesh; let these days be one hundred and twenty years.”

– Bersheit 6:30

The rabbis of the Talmud/Hazel (Sanhedrin 108b) and Rashi speculate why then it took 120-years to construct the ark, concluding it provided ample time for humanity to see the construction project, inquire about it and repent. This was to allow humanity the time for a second chance. This tradition is based on the above proof text found in Bersheit 6:30. Thus, even if Noah did not speak-up for humanity, he (in his own way) helped. 

Cheshvan, I believe, begs us to ask ourselves: How do we help those facing water insecurity, be it too little or too much? We might not have a 120-years, but we do have time to take action against climate change (natural or man-made) and those displaced and impacted by the recent heavy rains and flooding. Flooding in the US (North Carolina & Florida), Poland, the Philippines, and Spain just to name a few. In 2017 I traveled to Puerto Rico with IsraAID to provide safe and clean drinking water (via water filtration systems) to displaced families by Hurricane Maria. Yet, one does not need to travel far to help and provide safe and clean drinking water, one can volunteer locally with OBKLA. In fact, JLC is volunteering with them on Sunday! Shabbat Shalom & Hodesh Tov!

By TBA Rabbinic Intern Nico Losorelli

We have just rolled our Torah from the farthest end of the scroll at one end, to its opposite end back at the beginning. בראשית, Bereshit. In the beginning. We are about to reread how God created the world, and day by day said that it was “good,”and upon God’s creation of humans saying that it was “very good.” We’re back at the beginning, with the opportunity to create something new, and decide what is “good” and what is “very good.” However, I would like to add a caveat. We have also just exited the intense period of spiritual accounting that is the High Holiday season. During this time, in addition to asking ourselves what is “good” and what is “very good,” we’ve also been asking ourselves what is “bad” and what is “very bad.” These are extreme ends of the spectrum, and of course there is a lot of in between. I say this, because we may be tempted to look at this “new beginning” as a “clean slate,” that is how it is often thought about: Do your spiritual accounting, do you teshuvah, and start with a clean slate. There is, however, no such thing as a clean slate. Only a fresh page, or perhaps, a fresh piece of klaf—that is Torah Parchment—on which to write the next part of your story. 

“But why? I’ve done so much looking backward, I’d really just like to look to the forward! I’m really done,” you might say, but there is no moving forward, without looking backward. Time is a spiral, not a straight line, and often moving a few steps backward—whether by intentionally examining one’s past actions, or unintentionally reverting to behavior we’d prefer to leave in the past—can give us a better idea of how to move forward, and also just how much we have moved forward. It is an opportunity to say “this is good” and “this is bad.”  So, this backward looking, is essential to true movement forward. Otherwise, we risk writing the same old story, with the same old pen, or pencil, or quill, or more realistically, keyboard. At this juncture it would be a shame to close the book on all of that good work you’ve done, and march forward into 5785 without the new lessons you’ve learned, because you really did work so hard. With all of your hard work in hand, I’d like to encourage you not to abandon it. Don’t abandon the process of teshuvah, embrace it as a daily process.  

You have a fresh page of your own life’s Torah to write, but there are all of the pages already written before, and those that will be written after. So, in this moment of being back at the beginning, I’d like to invite you to use this opportunity to seriously ask yourself: “With all of the work that I have done over these past weeks, what am I going to do to write my new story of creation, and how am I going to do it?” Make a list, make a plan, continue to figure out what is “good” and what is “bad”, with all the shades of grey in between, and enjoy the trial and error of it all, because that is the stuff of living, and that is how your will truly move the plot of your life forward.