Monday, February 24, 2014

Shabbat Shekalim-P'kudei

Exodus 38:21-40:38; Exodus 30:11-16

Good Governance

Moses exemplifies a lesson in business ethics.

By Rabbi Ismar Schorsch; Provided by the Jewish Theological Seminary, a Conservative rabbinical seminary and university of Jewish studies.

Midrash is the art of keeping an ancient sacred text alive.The Rabbis were masters of drawing water from stone, of transforming the most mundane passages of Torah into luminous nuggets of spirituality.

Our parashah offers a provocative example of their creative touch.

It opens unexcitingly with an inventory of the metals used in the construction of the Tabernacle, more specifically with a financial statement of their worth. Moses felt obliged to state for the record the amountof gold, silver, and copper that went into the artifacts of the sanctuary. In the first verse we are told: "These are the records of the Tabernacle, the Tabernacle of the Pact, which were drawn up at Moses' bidding . . ."(38:21).

The sums are vast. With the weight of a talent equal to 3,000 shekels, Moses deployed 29 talents and 730 shekels of gold, 100 talents and 1,775 shekels of silver, and 70 talents and 2,400 shekels of copper in the tabernacle. It should be noted that these quantities were voluntarily given by the public in response to a fundraising campaign. Stirred by the prospect of an ongoing presence of God in their midst, the Israelites had shared of their wealth unstintingly, more than was actually needed (36:4-7).

Example for Future Leaders

A midrash accentuated what was implicit in the narrative. In rendering an account to his donors, Moses had set an example for future leaders. Despite his closeness to God, Who said of him that "he is trusted (ne'eman) throughout My household" (Numbers 12:7), Moses chose to give an accounting of the funds collected to his flock.
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Monday, February 17, 2014

Vayakhel

Exodus 35:1–38:20

Living Up to Our Names

God names Bezalel, giving him inspiration to lead.

By Rabbi Charles Savenor, Director of Kehella (Congregational) Enrichment for United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism.

In 1989, during the flight to my Junior Year Abroad experience in Israel, I chatted with the El Al flight attendants at the rear of the airplane.

When asked my name, I made the conscious decision to introduce myself using my Hebrew name, Simcha. As these women of sephardic descent heard my name, they roared out in laughter. "Simcha, you cannot be Simcha. Simcha is a girl's name." They explained that in modern Israeli society, especially in sephardic circles, only girls went by the name Simcha.

Before this encounter, I had never given much thought to my Hebrew name, which I received in memory of my great-grandmother, Celia. In truth, I had always just accepted my Hebrew name and found it somewhat amusing that my name meant happiness. While I heeded the advice of my new friends and used my English name, Charlie, for the remainder of the year at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, this encounter raised my awareness about the power and meaning of names.

Singled Out By Name

In this week's Torah portion, we are introduced for the second time to Bezalel, the architect and builder of the Mishkan, who possesses a unique Hebrew name. The text in Exodus 35 reads as follows:

And Moses said to the Israelites: 'See, the Lord has singled out by name Bezalel, son of Uri, son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah. He has endowed him with a divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft and has inspired him to make designs for work in gold, silver, and copper, to cut stones for setting to carve wood -- to work in every kind of designer's craft - and to give directions (Etz Hayim 35:30-34).

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Monday, February 10, 2014

Ki Tisa

Exodus 30:11−34:35

Transformative Power

Moses was changed internally and externally by his experience on Mt. Sinai.

By Rabbi Ismar Schorsch; Provided by the Jewish Theological Seminary, a Conservative rabbinical seminary and university of Jewish studies.

The story is told about Franz Kafka that the last time he visited Berlin, he chanced upon a little girl in a park awash in tears.

When he inquired as to the reason for her distress, she sobbed that she had lost her doll. Compassionately, Kafka countered that not to be the case. The doll had merely gone on a trip and, in fact, Kafka met her as she was about to leave. He promised that if the little girl would return to the park the next day, he would bring her a letter from her doll. And so Kafka did for several weeks, arriving each morning at the park with a letter for his new friend.

As his tuberculosis worsened, Kafka decided to return to Prague where he would soon die at age 41, but not before buying the girl another doll. Along with the doll came a letter in which Kafka insisted that this was the doll that belonged to his friend. Admittedly, she looked different, but then on her long trip the doll had seen many remarkable sights and gone through many searing experiences. Life had changed her appearance. (Jack Wertheimer, ed., The Uses of Tradition, p. 279).

Life-Altering Experiences

Of the many meanings in this profound parable I wish to focus on the most obvious: that a transformative experience alters us externally as well as internally. This is the point of the closing narrative of our parashah. The second time that Moses ascends Mount Sinai to get the Ten Commandments--that is after the debacle of the golden calf--the Torah uncharacteristically gives us a profusion of details. In contrast to the brevity of description pertaining to his first ascent (Exodus 19:18-25; 24:1-4;31:18), the Torah now divulges that Moses stayed atop the mountain for 40 days and 40 nights without eating a morsel of bread or drinking a sip of water (34:28).

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Monday, February 3, 2014

Tetzaveh

Exodus 27:20−30:10

The Routine vs. The Novel

The rituals of the tabernacle and Temple called for strictly defined roles--but also allowed for new expressions.

By Rabbi Joshua Heller, Provided by the Jewish Theological Seminary, a Conservative rabbinical seminary and university of Jewish studies.
The latter part of the book of Exodus describes the construction of the mishkan, the portable tabernacle that served as the focus of God's presence during the Israelites' wanderings in the desert and beyond.

These sections are characterized by a love of regularity and order. The same carefully selected few carry out the same intricately prescribed rituals the same way each day, using sacred objects, which have been standardized down to the last detail.

Each aspect is described twice, first as God commands Moses, and then in its actual implementation, which matches the plans almost to the letter. In contrast, extemporaneous religious expressions, like the Golden Calf, are hazardous at best. There is no room for the novel amid the routine.

This week's and last week's parashiyot [Torah portions], when taken together, shed further light on the essential tension between tradition and innovation, routine and novelty, within the Jewish religious experience. Last week's parashah, Terumah, describes the collection of donations and provides the plans for the tabernacle itself as well as the most important implements, including the ark, the altar, the table and the menorah.

This week's parashah, Tetzaveh, then focuses on standardizing the human factor--first, the garments that the priests will wear, and then the ritual that will initiate Aaron and his descendants into that noble task. At the very end of Tetzaveh, separated from the accounts of all the other primary implements, comes the commandment to create an altar to be used for incense (Exodus 30:1-10).

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