Sh'lach L'cha

Numbers 13:1−15:41

Fringe Story 

A reminder to participate in, and not just observe, the world around us

By Rabbi Lisa Gelber 

When I close my eyes to picture my grandfather, he is standing beside a long olive green bookcase, swaying and shokeling [swaying in prayer], his slight frame enfolded within his tallit, tefillin protruding from his forehead and wrapped about his arm, deeply engaged in conversation with God.

At those moments, it always seemed that he had been transported to a different place and time. Perhaps it was that magic cape, I thought, the one with the strings attached.

As a little girl, I yearned to wear a tallit, and so it is no surprise that some of my fondest childhood memories are of sitting with my grandfather in shul on Shabbat and sharing his tallit. Throughout the service, I would play with the tzitzit, enjoying the feel of the fringes as they slipped between my fingers, methodically adding new knots and removing them again before the conclusion of the service, each knot a blessing for myself or my family. My grandfather was a humble man, dedicated to his store, his family, and his God. He embodied a love for education and humanity. I knew that those cornerstones of his existence were somehow bound up within those carefully constructed knots.

It was not until some years after my grandfather's death that I learned the third paragraph of the Shema, recited twice each day, morning and evening, and found in this week's parashah, Shlah, commanding us to wear the tzitzit.

"Adonai said to Moses as follows: Speak to the people of Israel and tell them to make for themselves fringes, tzitzit, on the corners of their garments throughout their generations; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner. That shall be your fringe; look at it and recall all of Adonai's commandments and observe them so that you do not follow your heart and eyes and be seduced or led astray. Thus you shall be reminded to observe all My commandments and to be holy to your God. I, Adonai, am your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God: I, Adonai your God" (Numbers 15:37-41).

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B'haalot'cha

Numbers 8:1−12:16

 Sometimes, There Are Second Chances 

Of "Second Passover," Rabbi Akiva, and adult bat mitzvahs 

By Rabbi Ismar Schorsch 

One of the most compelling new rituals in the Conservative synagogue is the adult bat-mitzvah.

The impulse is egalitarian, the result religious empowerment. The women who participate enjoyed no bat-mitzvah ceremony in their youth. Years later they seek to fill the void. Usually in small groups of up to a dozen, they study with their rabbi and cantor for a period of at least two years.

The practice is so widespread today that the Women's League for Conservative Judaism has produced a carefully articulated curriculum to enhance the meaningfulness of the experience. Learning to read Hebrew is required. Biblically based yet religiously encompassing, the study period culminates in the preparation of a specific parashah and haftarah [prophetic reading] to be chanted in the synagogue on a Shabbat morning. There is definitely comfort in numbers. Doing the bat-mitzvah as a group lessens the tension of performing in public. Each participant must master only a part of the whole.

A few years ago, a large Solomon Schechter elementary day school appointed its first rabbi-in-residence, a post vital to intensifying the religious atmosphere and programming of the school. A number of the women on the faculty approached her about preparing them for an adult bat-mitzvah. She readily agreed provided that the ceremony be held in the school. After two years of serious study, the teachers celebrated their bat-mitzvah in a service attended by all the students in the school. The event was role modeling at its best. To see their teacher and colleague reach for holiness transformed students and teachers alike.

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Naso

Numbers 4:21−7:89

Surrogate Judaism 

Some try to "outsource" their Judaism, but this approach has severe limits. 

By Rabbi Joshua Heller
 

This week's parashah, Naso, includes one of Judaism's most time-honored liturgical texts, the priestly blessing:

"May Adonai bless you and keep you

May Adonai cause His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you

May Adonai turn His face towards you, and grant you peace"
(Numbers 6:24-26).

These three short, beautiful verses, which God commanded Aaron and his sons to use to bless the Jewish people with the gift of God's presence, indeed God's face, are deeply ingrained in Jewish cultural memory.

They also pose some important questions about the balance between the value of personal participation and the role intermediaries play in religious life.

An Old Blessing The verses of the priestly blessing are certainly among the oldest in continuous liturgical use. Archaeological evidence confirms their use even in the biblical period--their words were etched on silver scrolls found in tombs from the seventh century BCE. By the time of the Second Temple, their place in the ritual was confirmed as part of a series of blessings recited after the morning sacrifice (Mishnah Tamid 5:1), and, it is believed by many scholars to be one of the nuclei around which the current liturgical framework of the Amidah [the "standing" prayer] coalesced.

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B'midbar

Numbers 1:1-4:20

This week’s commentary was written by Rabbi Charles Savenor 

B’midbar, the fourth book of the Torah, opens with a demographic and geographic description of the Children of Israel. After taking a census of the people, God teaches that the camp will be arranged with the Mishkhan, the Tabernacle, situated in the center. This mobile, holy site is flanked on four sides by first the Levite families in an inner layer and then the twelve tribes in an outer one.

Reading these seemingly mundane administrative details, we wonder what can be learned from the census and the physical layout of the camp. Is there a relevant spiritual lesson for our contemporary Jewish community?

From an urban planning perspective, one appreciates the rationale of conducting a census before organizing the camp. With exact and intimate knowledge of the population, the camp can be set up in a way that distributes the people evenly, allowing every Jew not only living space, but also access to the Tabernacle. Dwelling in the wilderness for what will turn out to be two score years, this layout provides a secondary benefit, namely defense. The Levites living closest to the Tabernacle and the twelve tribes immediately behind them constitute two lines of protection for the Tabernacle and its holy vessels.

Another way of understanding this arrangement of the Israelite camp relates to crowd control. Unfortunately, as our ancestors trek from slavery to freedom they backslide on many occasions, most notably at the foot of Mount Sinai when they construct the Golden Calf. Some commentators assert that the Tabernacle is necessary as a physical manifestation of God in the world, assuaging the Israelites’ fear and anxiety. That the Tabernacle is situated in the center of the encampment and visible from every corner of the camp may signify its dual purpose as a deterrent for rebellion.

Since transforming the Israelites from slaves to free people and a “nation of priests” represents the central mission of the Exodus, it is hard to believe that God took the Children of Israel out of Egypt merely to suppress and repress them. By contrast, I believe that the Exodus and its miracles, the giving of the Torah, and the encampment’s layout down to the last detail are all intended to inspire our ancestors to new spiritual heights.

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