No Rewards Please

Dear friends,

During the 7+ years I was studying toward ordination people would often ask me “what are you going to do once you’re ordained?” I consistently had no answer. I didn’t know what I wanted to do as a rabbi. I barely understood why I was doing it in the first place, other than some internal pull met with some external encouragement. I knew I was in it, and doing it and that it was important to me to complete it and to do it right. It was one of the few things in my life thus far that I managed to do without giving too much thought to what I will get out of it or what purpose it will serve. That kept the process both fresh and edgy and allowed me to reach the ordination ceremony open to what might come. A few months later I was rewarded with the wonderful opportunity to jump on this sweet, curious looking boat called The New Shul.

One of the most helpful concepts Jews have come up with, and one of the hardest to accomplish is called “Lishma,” or “for its own sake.”

Maimonides wrote in Mishneh Torah:

Let no man say: "Behold, I perform the commandments of the Torah, and engage myself in its wisdom so that I will receive all the blessings described therein, or so that I will merit the life in the World to Come; and I will separate myself from the transgressions against which the Torah gave warning so that I will escape the curses described therein, or so that I will suffer excision from the life in the World to Come". It is improper to serve the Lord in such way, for whosoever serves the Lord in such way, is a worshiper because of fear, which is neither the degree of the prophets nor the degree of the sages. And the Lord should not be worshiped that way.

Torah, to Maimonides was far larger than just the commandments. To the rabbis in Talmudic times Everything we do is Torah, from the loftiest study to the way they used the restroom. Maimonides may be focusing on Torah, but his words apply to almost everything we do. If there is too strong a utilitarian aspect in most things we do, if we are too often trying to extract things out of our actions we may, from this vantage point, have a problem. Any action that is performed in an attempt to squeeze something out of it for your benefit is not an action done “lishma.” The capitalist system, and the American reality both lead us toward utilization rather than to a quieter type of “being with” what we are doing.

Personally, I find myself constantly trying to accomplish tasks. Be they work or house or family related, so much of what I do is an attempt to complete the things that I believe need to be done. Even in the category of gaining knowledge, or creativity, or experience, I can fall into the habit of “accomplishing things,”rather than doing them for the sake of doing them. I might read a book for the sake of completing all of a certain writer’s work. I might study Talmud for the purpose of finding a particular piece of information, or read the Parasha in order to have what to write to you on Friday. I might practice my musical instruments so that I can bring in a song to Shabbat. Even the articles I choose to read in the publications I choose to follow are often chosen simply for the sake of re-enforcing my opinions. Confirmation bias is a good example of not “lishma.”

In a way there’s nothing wrong with any of those examples. Certainly judging ourselves isn’t helpful. Sometimes, as was coined in the Talmud: מתוך שלא לשמה בא לשמה

“Out of not lishma comes lishma,” or: out of doing something not for its own sake one learns to do it for its own sake. True though that may be, our countless actions done not “Lishma” often feel deeply misguided.

We need to work on releasing the utilitarian aspect of as many of our actions as we can, and simply doing them for the sake of doing them. When we manage to do that, often rewards come of their own accord. When you manage to be there with another person without an agenda, often the depth of communication is deeply enhanced. In study I often find that the deeper realms reveal themselves as soon as I manage to let go of my pre-conceived ideas of what will happen in the study session.

In the Mishna we find the following description:

Rabbi Meir said: Whoever occupies himself with the Torah for its own sake, merits many things; not only that but he is worth the whole world. He is called beloved friend; one that loves God; one that loves humankind; one that gladdens God; one that gladdens humankind. And the Torah clothes him in humility and reverence, and equips him to be righteous, pious, upright and trustworthy; it keeps him far from sin, and brings him near to merit. To him are revealed the secrets of the Torah, and he is made as an ever-flowing spring, and like a stream that never ceases. And he becomes modest, long-suffering and forgiving of insult. And it magnifies him and exalts him over everything.

Seeking rewards, says Rabbi Meir, prevents you from reaping them. Not seeking them showers you with countless rewards.

Singing is one of the hardest things to do not “lishma.” It is often a moment of freedom from our capitalist way of life. Music can help us treat our actions with more presence, intention and softness; To open us up to the unexpected. That’s why we will be devoting our Kabbalat Shabbat this evening to music and song as we look to welcome Shabbat “lishma.”

I hope to sing with you this evening at 6:30pm at the 14th Street Y, or on Zoom with our musical guests cantor and singer Raechel Rosen, and percussionist Yuval Lion.

Shabbat's Zoom Link here.

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

Choreography of Nearness

Dear friends,

One of my closest childhood friends became very religious when we were 16. Over the course of a year or two he transitioned from being the kid that introduces cheeseburgers to his slightly more traditional Jewish friends, to a bearded aspiring rabbi. A year ago I asked Reb Leibush, now the head of a yeshiva in Jerusalem what sparked that transition. He answered like he answered me decades ago. He took three steps back before praying the Amidah, then three steps forward. During the time of that not very long prayer, before he concluded with three more steps back, bowing all around and two steps forward, something happened to him that he couldn’t ignore, nor define, but he knew that his life had changed.  

The Amidah, our central prayer of request, our longest moment of silence, our standing time when our feet are fixed in place, this is our most intimate moment with God (or ourselves) in our prayers. There are physical preparations for this prayer as well as mental ones prescribed. Mental prep includes prayers of praise and gratitude, assertions of our world view and the limits of our knowledge, songs, devotional poems. Then come the physical actions: we turn our bodies toward Jerusalem, we take three steps back and three steps forward, and begin. 

The strange magic of these dance moves, choreographed by rabbis for us thousands of years ago is illuminated in this week’s Parasha, Vayigash. 

We find ourselves in the climax of the Joseph saga. He’s already been sold to slavery by his brothers, taken to Egypt, imprisoned unjustly, and used his understanding of dreams to become Pharaoh’s right hand man. He has saved Egypt from a terrible famine, and has already given food to his brothers, who have come from Canaan looking to stave off starvation. He hasn’t revealed himself to them though he certainly recognizes them. The second time the brothers come back after the food Joseph gave them has run out he devises a trick that puts his one full blood brother, Benjamin in prison. The defacto leader of the brothers, Yehudah now must respond. 

וַיִּגַּ֨שׁ אֵלָ֜יו יְהוּדָ֗ה 

And Judah approached him 

This approach, the title of the parasha, is one of the three sources that inspired our pre-Amidah choreography: 

The reason (for taking three steps before the Amidah) is because there are three “approaches” in prayer (found in Tanach): “And Avraham approached,” “And Yehudah approached,” “and Eliyahu approached.” 

(Rabbi Avraham Eliezer bar Isaac) 

The three instances where the word “Vayigash”, “and he approached” appear in the bible are followed by deep, honest expressions of a major need. 

Rabbi Moshe Iserles writes: 

“When a person is about to pray [the Amidah], he should take three steps forward, like someone approaching and drawing near to something that must be done.” 

Yehudah had no choice. He had to get his brother out of prison or his father would have died of sorrow. And he will express this in clear language to this Egyptian ruler who he does not know is his brother. But before any words are said, he must first move his body nearer to him. 

It is the silent physical movement that first grabs Joseph’s attention, signaling to him that something is about to happen. When we speak to our loved ones often a similar takes place. A physical movement away from them can signal fear, lack of clarity or care or love or importance. A movement toward them can signal a desire to engage, your need of your loved one and clarity of intention. It cries out: “I want to be close to you,” which can often be more effective than words. 

In order to draw near, to come close, we must approach. This is the first lesson the rabbis learn from this moment of high drama and tension. Then come his words, ending with a selfless act of sacrifice: 

Please let your servant remain as a slave to my lord instead of the boy (Benjamin), and let the boy go back with his brothers. For how can I go back to my father unless the boy is with me? Let me not be witness to the woe that would overtake my father!” 

When we approach God or anyone else in this way, drawing near with selfless love of others, even if we have harmed them or done wrong, the response suggested in this story is a breaking down of barriers, inhibitions and anger into total and complete forgiveness: 

Joseph could no longer control himself before all his attendants, and he cried out, “Have everyone withdraw from me!” So there was no one else about when Joseph made himself known to his brothers.  

His sobs were so loud that the Egyptians could hear, and so the news reached Pharaoh’s palace.  

Joseph said to his brothers “I am your brother Joseph, he whom you sold into Egypt.  

Now, do not be distressed or reproach yourselves because you sold me hither; it was to save life that God sent me ahead of you... it was not you who sent me here, but God; 

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could approach one another, and notice when we are being approached. Those quiet steps forward could be the beginning of knowing one and another more deeply, and the forgiveness that ensues from that knowledge. 

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

The Awareness Exercise

"Stillness is a fence around wisdom." - Jewish Proverb

NEW MEDITATION EXERCISE: The Awareness Exercise will help you wake up to the world around you and find peace. Find a quiet spot and meditate for 13 minutes to Michael Posnick soothing guidance.

This exercise will wait for you right here, so make it a habit and put it on to start your days in a calming way or when you need a moment to relax.

Meditation opens the way to greater awareness, to living in the present with clarity and unfettered perception. Seeing things as they are enables us to accept what is and to act according to need.

Join Michael's weekly Meditation Chevrutah on Wednesday's @ 7 PM :

Through a series of experiential exercises, study and discussion, our chevrutah will provide an introduction to this ancient, universal practice and provide direction for those who would like to continue. Meditation is a means of self-discovery and whole-hearted participation in the divine play of creation. All forms of Jewish meditation lead to devekut, union with the divine.

Maoz Tsur

Dear friends,

Before I share some thoughts on Hanukkah in advance of our celebration tomorrow, I’d like to acknowledge the anxiety and fear that the discussion in the Supreme Court on Wednesday may have provoked in many of you, especially women. I find myself seriously impacted by the prospect of this decision, and have spent much of the last weeks thinking about the deeper meanings of this debate, and these two words “choice” and “life.” I will share some thoughts about all of this in the weeks ahead, and we are planning to address it in some of our gatherings as well, but for now I will just re-iterate that in the Jewish tradition the needs of the woman clearly supersede those of the fetus growing in her womb. If any of you would like to talk with me about this, or to organize around this issue please reach out. 

We sing this song after candle lighting every night: 

Ma'oz tsur yeshu'ati 
lecha na'eh leshabeakh. 
Tikon beit tefilati 
vesham todah nezaveakh. 

Le'et tachin matbeakh 
mitsar hamnabeakh, 

'az 'egmor beshir mizmor 
khanukat hamizbeakh. 

Poetry is hard to translate, which is why the translations out there are so terrible. Here’s one: 

Rock of ages 
Crown this praise 
Light and songs to you we raise 
Our will you strengthen 
To fight for our redemption 

It’s amazing how what people call a translation can offer nothing at all of the intention of the poet. I don’t know that I can do much better in poetic form, but I’ll try and give a sense of it in prose.  

Maoz is a fortress, the place of condensed strength that cannot be broken.  

Tsur is a foundational rock, the rock within a mountain that will never in our lifetime move. It is the one stable, constant and true piece of reality. 

So Maoz tsur is the strongest inner core of the foundational rock. 

Yeshuati means my redemption or salvation. My chance for improvement, for rising above, for becoming one with truth and goodness despite everything else going wrong in my world. 

So Maoz tsur yeshuati is the strongest inner core of the foundational rock of my redemption. Fortress of the never changing rock of my best self. 

Then we say – lecha na'eh leshabeach: to you, oh fortress, is it proper to give praise. 

Tikon beit tefilati – literally the house of my prayer will be established. Here we clearly reference the Hanukkah story, and the return to the temple. But we can read this as any temple, the temple of our bodies, the place where we find peace, the home of our silence. This place will be established. And when it is, as we succeed occasionally in doing, then: 

vesham todah nezaveakh: We will make an offering of gratitude there. When we manage to find this place of peace, we are able to see what we have, and to feel and express our gratitude with a zevach, a sacrificial gift that we offer out of love. Tomorrow at the party we will be making care packages for seniors with mental and financial problems. That will be our zevach todah, our gratitude offering.

We end the verse with these words: 

'az 'egmor beshir mizmor 
khanukat hamizbeakh. 

Then I will conclude with a song. And what will that song accomplish? It will Hanukkah the alter; it will dedicate that alter of offering, the temple of our silence, and the work that is ahead of us to that fortress of truth, justice and goodness. 

This medieval poem continues with several more verses, each one detailing a different dark time in our history. It is a poetic map of Antisemitic moments and sentiments which we somehow overcame. In each of these times of fear and oppression we managed to return to Maoz Tzur, this unshakeable truth at our core, this home, this quiet self. We managed, we could say, to return to YHVH. 

Tomorrow we will acknowledge the ongoing problem of antisemitism, and look for our Maoz Tzur today. Our musical offering will be plentiful, with a special collection of incredible musicians including Frank London, Meg Okura, Trip Dudley and Yonatan Gutfeld. We will hear stories from elders, take part in an immersive play, fill our bellies with fancy latkes and ring the bells that still can ring. 

Chag sameach and see you tomorrow at 3:30 at Judson.  

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

MUSIC: Shalom Aleichem

This week's Music Video - Shalom Aleichem

Shalom Aleichem (Hebrew: שָׁלוֹם עֲלֵיכֶם‎, 'Peace be upon you') is a traditional song sung by Jews every Friday night upon returning home from synagogue prayer. It signals the arrival of the Shabbat, welcoming the angels who accompany a person home on the eve of the Shabbat. The custom of singing "Shalom Aleichem" on Friday night before Eshes Chayiland Kiddush is now nearly universal among religious Jews.

Tripp Dudley : Tabla

Marandi Hostetter : Violin

John Murchison : Bass

Yonatan Gutfeld : Guitar and singing

Rabbi Misha Shulman : singing

Thank you

Dear friends,

A prayer of gratitude from the daily prayers:

We thank you  
Our fountain 
And fountain of our mothers and fathers 

Slow painter of our lives,
Watchful keeper of our hope 
In every generation, that's You.  

We continue to thank you 
By telling your tales of love: 
   Our lives in your hands
   Our spirits in your care 
   Your miracles accompanying us day by day 
   Your evening wonders 
           Your morning silence
                   Your afternoon delights. 

Goodness; whose compassion will not end. 
Compassion; who won't stop acting like a lover.
Whatever’s left of us turns to face You 
Now 

For all of it 
Be blessed 
Be praised 
Be carried on our lips  
And hearts and minds 
Always  

מוֹדִים אֲנַֽחְנוּ לָךְ שָׁאַתָּה הוּא יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ וֵאלֹהֵי אֲבוֹתֵֽינוּ לְעוֹלָם וָעֶד צוּר חַיֵּֽינוּ מָגֵן יִשְׁעֵֽנוּ אַתָּה הוּא לְדוֹר וָדוֹר נֽוֹדֶה לְּךָ וּנְסַפֵּר תְּהִלָּתֶֽךָ עַל־חַיֵּֽינוּ הַמְּ֒סוּרִים בְּיָדֶֽךָ וְעַל נִשְׁמוֹתֵֽינוּ הַפְּ֒קוּדוֹת לָךְ וְעַל נִסֶּֽיךָ שֶׁבְּכָל יוֹם עִמָּֽנוּ וְעַל נִפְלְ֒אוֹתֶֽיךָ וְטוֹבוֹתֶֽיךָ שֶׁבְּ֒כָל עֵת עֶֽרֶב וָבֹֽקֶר וְצָהֳרָֽיִם הַטּוֹב כִּי לֹא כָלוּ רַחֲמֶֽיךָ וְהַמְ֒רַחֵם כִּי לֹא תַֽמּוּ חֲסָדֶֽיךָ מֵעוֹלָם קִוִּֽינוּ לָךְ: 
וְעַל־כֻּלָּם יִתְבָּרַךְ וְיִתְרוֹמַם שִׁמְךָ מַלְכֵּֽנוּ תָּמִיד לְעוֹלָם וָעֶד:

Wishing you all a happy Thanksgiving weekend!

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

MUSIC: Warrior of the Light

Warriors of the Light is this week's music video.

בָּאנוּ חֹשֶךְ לְגָרֵשׁ.

בְּיָדֵינוּ אוֹר וָאֵשׁ.

כָּל אֶחָד הוּא אוֹר קָטָן,

וְכֻלָּנוּ - אוֹר אֵיתָן.

סוּרָה חֹשֶךְ! הָלְאָה שְׁחוֹר!

סוּרָה מִפְּנֵי הָאוֹר!

We’re the warriors of the light

Come to bust away the night

Each of us is one small flame

And together we exclaim:

Get away darkness

Onward night

We will turn you into light

Get away darkness

Onward night

We will turn you into light

Tripp Dudley : Tabla

Marandi Hostetter : Violin

John Murchison : Bass

Yonatan Gutfeld : Guitar and singing

Rabbi Misha Shulman : singing

Us and the Stars

Ben Shahn

Dear friends,

Imagine you knew the constellations as well as you knew your neighborhood. Like you knew how to get from the subway stop to your apartment, you knew the way from the Big Dipper to Orion. Like you could make your way from Lincoln Center to Grand Central you could follow the stars from Aquarius to Gemini. This used to be a much more common human ability but it was always rare. In the Talmud we find one true expert of the heavens. “Shmuel said: the paths of the skies are as clear to me as the paths of Nehardea (the town he lived in).” An intimacy with the night skies is something we city dwellers seem to have largely lost. 

A couple weeks ago the stars entered my living room. My cousin shipped me a painting that belonged to my grandmother, with text from the Book of Job under an abstract depiction of the night sky. Painted by Ben Shahn, a Jew who traversed the paths from the old world to the US, from Cheder (parochial school) to the world of political art, the painting has brought with it soft questions of our place in the universe, gentle queries about the ways we walk the earth, and new readings of the Book of Job. 

The stars serve a few different purposes according to our creation story.  

והיו לאתת ולמועדים ולימים ושנים 

They will serve as signs, and holidays and days and years.  

Signs that suggest where we might go. Holidays that we can stop and mark special times. Days that we might stay connected with the slow movement of the everyday. Years that we can feel the flow of our lives, its circularity as well as its changing nature. 

Life here on the ground beneath the stars is not always easy. We struggle to see those signs up there.  

The text in the painting is part of God’s speech to the ultimate sufferer, Job toward the end of the book. You’ll recall that Job was a rich, happy man, who had his entire life implode, losing his children, his wealth and health, and his trust in the goodness of God. After thirty some chapters of theological poetry about the question of bad things happening to good people, God finally speaks. God’s speech is most easily understood as a scolding. General sentiment: Who are you to complain at me, you little speck of dust?! But staring at these verses sitting under Shahn’s constellations has softened God’s words from angry rhetorical questions, to just plain questions: 

הַֽ֭תְקַשֵּׁר מַעֲדַנּ֣וֹת כִּימָ֑ה אֽוֹ־מֹשְׁכ֖וֹת כְּסִ֣יל תְּפַתֵּֽחַ׃  

הֲתֹצִ֣יא מַזָּר֣וֹת בְּעִתּ֑וֹ וְ֝עַ֗יִשׁ עַל־בָּנֶ֥יהָ תַנְחֵֽם׃  

הֲ֭יָדַעְתָּ חֻקּ֣וֹת שָׁמָ֑יִם אִם־תָּשִׂ֖ים מִשְׁטָר֣וֹ בָאָֽרֶץ׃ 

Can you tie sweet cords to Pleiades 
Or undo the reins of Orion?  

Can you lay out the constellations each month, 
Or keep the North Star in her mothering spot?  

Do you know the laws of the sky 
Or the way they govern the earth? 

There are answers to these questions beyond the simple “No” that most people have seen in them. Instead of a slap on the wrist or a trodding upon I have begun to see them as an invitation to participate in the heavenly play. Sitting under the loving painted sky I can’t help but notice how Shahn has tied sweet cords to Plaides, connected me to them and them to the other constellations. Or how Shmuel, like many star gazers learned the laws of the sky, and how some part of me understands the way they are connected to my life. Even though we rarely see the vast majority of the stars, many of us still know the way they were aligned on the day, the hour and the minute we came out from the dark to the place where they can be seen. There is hidden love and protection in this universe that we can look for, imagine, discover, take part in and know, even in - especially in - our darkest moments. 

Wishing you a shabbat filled with stars. 

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

MUSIC: Tehila - Psalm 5

This week’s video is another Tehila, a musical improvisation inspired by Psalm 5.

Played on qanun by John Murchison and introduced by rabbi Misha Shulman.

לַמְנַצֵּ֥חַ אֶֽל־הַנְּחִיל֗וֹת מִזְמ֥וֹר לְדָוִֽד׃

For the leader; on neḥiloth. A psalm of David.

אֲמָרַ֖י הַאֲזִ֥ינָה ׀ יְהוָ֗ה בִּ֣ינָה הֲגִֽיגִי׃

Give ear to my speech, O LORD; consider my utterance.

הַקְשִׁ֤יבָה ׀ לְק֬וֹל שַׁוְעִ֗י מַלְכִּ֥י וֵאלֹהָ֑י כִּֽי־אֵ֝לֶ֗יךָ אֶתְפַּלָּֽל׃

Heed the sound of my cry, my king and God, for I pray to You.

יְֽהוָ֗ה בֹּ֭קֶר תִּשְׁמַ֣ע קוֹלִ֑י בֹּ֥קֶר אֶֽעֱרָךְ־לְ֝ךָ֗ וַאֲצַפֶּֽה׃

Hear my voice, O LORD, at daybreak; at daybreak I plead before You, and wait.

כִּ֤י ׀ לֹ֤א אֵֽל־חָפֵ֘ץ רֶ֥שַׁע ׀ אָ֑תָּה לֹ֖א יְגֻרְךָ֣ רָֽע׃

For You are not a God who desires wickedness; evil cannot abide with You;

לֹֽא־יִתְיַצְּב֣וּ הֽ֭וֹלְלִים לְנֶ֣גֶד עֵינֶ֑יךָ שָׂ֝נֵ֗אתָ כָּל־פֹּ֥עֲלֵי אָֽוֶן׃

wanton men cannot endure in Your sight. You detest all evildoers;

תְּאַבֵּד֮ דֹּבְרֵ֪י כָ֫זָ֥ב אִישׁ־דָּמִ֥ים וּמִרְמָ֗ה יְתָ֘עֵ֥ב ׀ יְהוָֽה׃

You doom those who speak lies; murderous, deceitful men the LORD abhors.

וַאֲנִ֗י בְּרֹ֣ב חַ֭סְדְּךָ אָב֣וֹא בֵיתֶ֑ךָ אֶשְׁתַּחֲוֶ֥ה אֶל־הֵֽיכַל־קָ֝דְשְׁךָ֗ בְּיִרְאָתֶֽךָ׃

But I, through Your abundant love, enter Your house; I bow down in awe at Your holy temple.

יְהוָ֤ה ׀ נְחֵ֬נִי בְצִדְקָתֶ֗ךָ לְמַ֥עַן שׁוֹרְרָ֑י הושר [הַיְשַׁ֖ר] לְפָנַ֣י דַּרְכֶּֽךָ׃

O LORD, lead me along Your righteous [path] because of my watchful foes; make Your way straight before me.

כִּ֤י אֵ֪ין בְּפִ֡יהוּ נְכוֹנָה֮ קִרְבָּ֪ם הַ֫וּ֥וֹת קֶֽבֶר־פָּת֥וּחַ גְּרוֹנָ֑ם לְ֝שׁוֹנָ֗ם יַחֲלִֽיקוּן׃

For there is no sincerity on their lips;their heart is [filled with] malice; their throat is an open grave; their tongue slippery.

הַֽאֲשִׁימֵ֨ם ׀ אֱ‍ֽלֹהִ֗ים יִפְּלוּ֮ מִֽמֹּעֲצ֪וֹתֵ֫יהֶ֥ם בְּרֹ֣ב פִּ֭שְׁעֵיהֶם הַדִּיחֵ֑מוֹ כִּי־מָ֥רוּ בָֽךְ׃

Condemn them, O God; let them fall by their own devices; cast them out for their many crimes, for they defy You.

וְיִשְׂמְח֨וּ כָל־ח֪וֹסֵי בָ֡ךְ לְעוֹלָ֣ם יְ֭רַנֵּנוּ וְתָסֵ֣ךְ עָלֵ֑ימוֹ וְֽיַעְלְצ֥וּ בְ֝ךָ֗ אֹהֲבֵ֥י שְׁמֶֽךָ׃

But let all who take refuge in You rejoice, ever jubilant as You shelter them; and let those who love Your name exult in You.

כִּֽי־אַתָּה֮ תְּבָרֵ֪ךְ צַ֫דִּ֥יק יְהוָ֑ה כַּ֝צִּנָּ֗ה רָצ֥וֹן תַּעְטְרֶֽנּוּ׃

For You surely bless the righteous man, O LORD, encompassing him with favor like a shield.

Strong Women

Judy Chicago, The Creation from the Birth Project, 1982

Dear friends,

Divine though it may be, the Torah was written by and about men. We can see direct lines between the Tanach and the abortion law in Texas, the backwards attitude toward parental leave in this country and the war on women around the world. All of this provides one of the most exciting opportunities religion has to offer: the chance to participate in reshaping it through new practices and re-interpretation of the ancient texts. I feel empowered when I can see the direct line not between the Torah and the current expressions of the patriarchy but between the Torah and the work of feminist artists like Judy Chicago, or even singers like Cardi B. 

I get especially excited when a young person clues me in to the subversive feminine voice in the Torah. These past weeks I’ve been learning from a 13 year old young woman named Willow, a member of the Shul who will be rising to the Torah at her Bat Mitzvah tomorrow. She looks at this week’s parashah and doesn’t see the story of Jacob leaving Canaan to Mesopotamia to find a wife, but of Rachel, who sets her eyes on a young man that turns up at the well, and decides to create a family with him. 

When Rachel’s father, Laban tricks Jacob into having sex with her older sister, Leah (and in that act solidifying their marriage), the Torah points our attention to Jacob. But in Willow’s narrative we are looking at how this impacts Rachel, as well as Leah.  When a decision to leave and head back to Canaan after 20 years happens, Willow sees the two women as the initiators of that move.  

The amazing thing is that once you make that switch in your mind it’s hard to see the text of Genesis as anything but that way.  

In God, Sex and The Women of the Bible, Rabbi Shoni Labowitz z”l wrote: “When you change the story, you can change the whole culture. This is what the patriarchal era did in history, and women have the power now to correct it.” Labowitz, who knew well how the (male) rabbis over the centuries diverted the story toward an even more male-centered approach, seems to be suggesting that the Torah may be more gender-neutral than we are used to thinking about it, and can therefore be reclaimed by women through interpretation. 

The contemporary practice of Midrashey Nashim, stories and commentaries on the Torah written by women is an important piece of this work. Women like Tamar Biala and Chana Thompson, who take the traditional form of Midrash, stories that flesh out the stories in the bible, but do it with a woman’s viewpoint are hard at work. Yael Kanarek, whose Re-gendered Bible flips all the genders in the Torah to create a new impression on the reader, is a downtown artist deeply engaged in Torah and its reboot. 

And just like in any of the struggles for women’s liberation, we shouldn’t forget that men can play an important role as well as allies. The struggle for a just Torah is the struggle for a just society for all of us.  Perhaps we could all start with hearing the women in the stories of this week’s parashah, as Willow has helped me do.  

If you’d like to give that a try, a wonderful place to start is in the Shul’s Women of the Bible Chevrutah, led by Elana Ponet. For more info click HERE. 

I hope you can join us this evening for Kabbalat shabbat at the 14th Street Y (or on Zoom), where we will have a conversation about one of Rachel’s strongest and strangest moments in Torah, and the echoes we might see of her actions today. We will be joined by Yacine Boulares, a wonderful French-Tunisian saxophone player and composer. 

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

MUSIC: Tehila - Psalm 69

This week’s video is a Tehila, a musical improvisation inspired by Psalm 69.

Played on the Violin by Marandi Hostetter and introduced by rabbi Misha Shulman.

לַמְנַצֵּ֬חַ עַֽל־שׁוֹשַׁנִּ֬ים לְדָוִֽד׃

For the leader. On shoshannim.Of David.

הוֹשִׁיעֵ֥נִי אֱלֹהִ֑ים כִּ֤י בָ֖אוּ מַ֣יִם עַד־נָֽפֶשׁ׃

Deliver me, O God, for the waters have reached my neck;

טָבַ֤עְתִּי ׀ בִּיוֵ֣ן מְ֭צוּלָה וְאֵ֣ין מָעֳמָ֑ד בָּ֥אתִי בְמַעֲמַקֵּי־מַ֝֗יִם וְשִׁבֹּ֥לֶת שְׁטָפָֽתְנִי׃

I am sinking into the slimy deep and find no foothold; I have come into the watery depths; the flood sweeps me away.

יָגַ֣עְתִּי בְקָרְאִי֮ נִחַ֪ר גְּר֫וֹנִ֥י כָּל֥וּ עֵינַ֑י מְ֝יַחֵ֗ל לֵאלֹהָֽי׃

I am weary with calling; my throat is dry; my eyes fail while I wait for God.

רַבּ֤וּ ׀ מִשַּׂעֲר֣וֹת רֹאשִׁי֮ שֹׂנְאַ֪י חִ֫נָּ֥ם עָצְמ֣וּ מַ֭צְמִיתַי אֹיְבַ֣י שֶׁ֑קֶר אֲשֶׁ֥ר לֹא־גָ֝זַ֗לְתִּי אָ֣ז אָשִֽׁיב׃

More numerous than the hairs of my head are those who hate me without reason; many are those who would destroy me, my treacherous enemies. Must I restore what I have not stolen?

אֱ‍ֽלֹהִ֗ים אַתָּ֣ה יָ֭דַעְתָּ לְאִוַּלְתִּ֑י וְ֝אַשְׁמוֹתַ֗י מִמְּךָ֥ לֹא־נִכְחָֽדוּ׃

God, You know my folly; my guilty deeds are not hidden from You.

אַל־יֵ֘בֹ֤שׁוּ בִ֨י ׀ קֹוֶיךָ֮ אֲדֹנָ֥י יְהוִ֗ה צְבָ֫א֥וֹת אַל־יִכָּ֣לְמוּ בִ֣י מְבַקְשֶׁ֑יךָ אֱ֝לֹהֵ֗י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

Let those who look to You, O Lord, God of hosts, not be disappointed on my account; let those who seek You, O God of Israel, not be shamed because of me.

כִּֽי־עָ֭לֶיךָ נָשָׂ֣אתִי חֶרְפָּ֑ה כִּסְּתָ֖ה כְלִמָּ֣ה פָנָֽי׃

It is for Your sake that I have been reviled, that shame covers my face;

מ֭וּזָר הָיִ֣יתִי לְאֶחָ֑י וְ֝נָכְרִ֗י לִבְנֵ֥י אִמִּֽי׃

I am a stranger to my brothers, an alien to my kin.

כִּֽי־קִנְאַ֣ת בֵּיתְךָ֣ אֲכָלָ֑תְנִי וְחֶרְפּ֥וֹת ח֝וֹרְפֶ֗יךָ נָפְל֥וּ עָלָֽי׃

My zeal for Your house has been my undoing; the reproaches of those who revile You have fallen upon me.

וָאֶבְכֶּ֣ה בַצּ֣וֹם נַפְשִׁ֑י וַתְּהִ֖י לַחֲרָפ֣וֹת לִֽי׃

When I wept and fasted, I was reviled for it.

וָאֶתְּנָ֣ה לְבוּשִׁ֣י שָׂ֑ק וָאֱהִ֖י לָהֶ֣ם לְמָשָֽׁל׃

I made sackcloth my garment; I became a byword among them.

יָשִׂ֣יחוּ בִ֭י יֹ֣שְׁבֵי שָׁ֑עַר וּ֝נְגִינ֗וֹת שׁוֹתֵ֥י שֵׁכָֽר׃

Those who sit in the gate talk about me; I am the taunt of drunkards.

וַאֲנִ֤י תְפִלָּתִֽי־לְךָ֨ ׀ יְהוָ֡ה עֵ֤ת רָצ֗וֹן אֱלֹהִ֥ים בְּרָב־חַסְדֶּ֑ךָ עֲ֝נֵ֗נִי בֶּאֱמֶ֥ת יִשְׁעֶֽךָ׃

As for me, may my prayer come to You, O LORD, at a favorable moment; O God, in Your abundant faithfulness, answer me with Your sure deliverance.

הַצִּילֵ֣נִי מִ֭טִּיט וְאַל־אֶטְבָּ֑עָה אִנָּצְלָ֥ה מִ֝שֹּֽׂנְאַ֗י וּמִמַּֽעֲמַקֵּי־מָֽיִם׃

Rescue me from the mire; let me not sink; let me be rescued from my enemies, and from the watery depths.

אַל־תִּשְׁטְפֵ֤נִי ׀ שִׁבֹּ֣לֶת מַ֭יִם וְאַל־תִּבְלָעֵ֣נִי מְצוּלָ֑ה וְאַל־תֶּאְטַר־עָלַ֖י בְּאֵ֣ר פִּֽיהָ׃

Let the floodwaters not sweep me away; let the deep not swallow me; let the mouth of the Pit not close over me.

עֲנֵ֣נִי יְ֭הוָה כִּי־ט֣וֹב חַסְדֶּ֑ךָ כְּרֹ֥ב רַ֝חֲמֶ֗יךָ פְּנֵ֣ה אֵלָֽי׃

Answer me, O LORD, according to Your great steadfastness; in accordance with Your abundant mercy turn to me;

וְאַל־תַּסְתֵּ֣ר פָּ֭נֶיךָ מֵֽעַבְדֶּ֑ךָ כִּֽי־צַר־לִ֝֗י מַהֵ֥ר עֲנֵֽנִי׃

do not hide Your face from Your servant, for I am in distress; answer me quickly.

קָרְבָ֣ה אֶל־נַפְשִׁ֣י גְאָלָ֑הּ לְמַ֖עַן אֹיְבַ֣י פְּדֵֽנִי׃

Come near to me and redeem me; free me from my enemies.

אַתָּ֤ה יָדַ֗עְתָּ חֶרְפָּתִ֣י וּ֭בָשְׁתִּי וּכְלִמָּתִ֑י נֶ֝גְדְּךָ֗ כָּל־צוֹרְרָֽי׃

You know my reproach, my shame, my disgrace; You are aware of all my foes.

חֶרְפָּ֤ה ׀ שָֽׁבְרָ֥ה לִבִּ֗י וָֽאָ֫נ֥וּשָׁה וָאֲקַוֶּ֣ה לָנ֣וּד וָאַ֑יִן וְ֝לַמְנַחֲמִ֗ים וְלֹ֣א מָצָֽאתִי׃

Reproach breaks my heart, I am in despair;I hope for consolation, but there is none, for comforters, but find none.

וַיִּתְּנ֣וּ בְּבָרוּתִ֣י רֹ֑אשׁ וְ֝לִצְמָאִ֗י יַשְׁק֥וּנִי חֹֽמֶץ׃

They give me gall for food, vinegar to quench my thirst.

יְהִֽי־שֻׁלְחָנָ֣ם לִפְנֵיהֶ֣ם לְפָ֑ח וְלִשְׁלוֹמִ֥ים לְמוֹקֵֽשׁ׃

May their table be a trap for them, a snare for their allies.

תֶּחְשַׁ֣כְנָה עֵ֭ינֵיהֶם מֵרְא֑וֹת וּ֝מָתְנֵ֗יהֶם תָּמִ֥יד הַמְעַֽד׃

May their eyes grow dim so that they cannot see; may their loins collapse continually.

שְׁפָךְ־עֲלֵיהֶ֥ם זַעְמֶ֑ךָ וַחֲר֥וֹן אַ֝פְּךָ֗ יַשִּׂיגֵֽם׃

Pour out Your wrath on them; may Your blazing anger overtake them;

תְּהִי־טִֽירָתָ֥ם נְשַׁמָּ֑ה בְּ֝אָהֳלֵיהֶ֗ם אַל־יְהִ֥י יֹשֵֽׁב׃

may their encampments be desolate; may their tents stand empty.

כִּֽי־אַתָּ֣ה אֲשֶׁר־הִכִּ֣יתָ רָדָ֑פוּ וְאֶל־מַכְא֖וֹב חֲלָלֶ֣יךָ יְסַפֵּֽרוּ׃

For they persecute those You have struck; they talk about the pain of those You have felled.

תְּֽנָה־עָ֭וֺן עַל־עֲוֺנָ֑ם וְאַל־יָ֝בֹ֗אוּ בְּצִדְקָתֶֽךָ׃

Add that to their guilt; let them have no share of Your beneficence;

יִ֭מָּחֽוּ מִסֵּ֣פֶר חַיִּ֑ים וְעִ֥ם צַ֝דִּיקִ֗ים אַל־יִכָּתֵֽבוּ׃

may they be erased from the book of life, and not be inscribed with the righteous.

וַ֭אֲנִי עָנִ֣י וְכוֹאֵ֑ב יְשׁוּעָתְךָ֖ אֱלֹהִ֣ים תְּשַׂגְּבֵֽנִי׃

But I am lowly and in pain; Your help, O God, keeps me safe.

אֲהַֽלְלָ֣ה שֵׁם־אֱלֹהִ֣ים בְּשִׁ֑יר וַאֲגַדְּלֶ֥נּוּ בְתוֹדָֽה׃

I will extol God’s name with song, and exalt Him with praise.

וְתִיטַ֣ב לַֽ֭יהוָה מִשּׁ֥וֹר פָּ֗ר מַקְרִ֥ן מַפְרִֽיס׃

That will please the LORD more than oxen, than bulls with horns and hooves.

רָא֣וּ עֲנָוִ֣ים יִשְׂמָ֑חוּ דֹּרְשֵׁ֥י אֱ֝לֹהִ֗ים וִיחִ֥י לְבַבְכֶֽם׃

The lowly will see and rejoice; you who are mindful of God, take heart!

כִּֽי־שֹׁמֵ֣עַ אֶל־אֶבְיוֹנִ֣ים יְהוָ֑ה וְאֶת־אֲ֝סִירָ֗יו לֹ֣א בָזָֽה׃

For the LORD listens to the needy, and does not spurn His captives.

יְֽ֭הַלְלוּהוּ שָׁמַ֣יִם וָאָ֑רֶץ יַ֝מִּ֗ים וְֽכָל־רֹמֵ֥שׂ בָּֽם׃

Heaven and earth shall extol Him, the seas, and all that moves in them.

כִּ֤י אֱלֹהִ֨ים ׀ י֘וֹשִׁ֤יעַ צִיּ֗וֹן וְ֭יִבְנֶה עָרֵ֣י יְהוּדָ֑ה וְיָ֥שְׁבוּ שָׁ֝֗ם וִירֵשֽׁוּהָ׃

For God will deliver Zion and rebuild the cities of Judah; they shall live there and inherit it;

וְזֶ֣רַע עֲ֭בָדָיו יִנְחָל֑וּהָ וְאֹהֲבֵ֥י שְׁ֝מ֗וֹ יִשְׁכְּנוּ־בָֽהּ׃

the offspring of His servants shall possess it; those who cherish His name shall dwell there.

Wine, Cheese and Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream

Dear friends,

This week I posted a note on the Shul’s Instagram about State Comptroller Tom DiNapoli’s decision to divest New York state’s pension fund from Unilever, the parent company of Ben and Jerry’s. DiNapoli based his decision on Cuomo’s 2016 executive order forbidding the state to do business with supporters of the Boycott Divestment and Sanctions movement (BDS). I wanted to take the time to lay out some of my thinking on this issue that is close to my heart, which led me to post about it, and, I’m sorry to say, upset some of you. 

Before that, however I’d like to explain that I see my role as rabbi as one entangled with ethics and morality rather than “the news”. When I read the newspaper as Misha I have all kinds of thoughts and opinions about whatever I read. When I take action on an issue as Rabbi Misha it is because I see ethical implications which transcend the current moment and speak to the moral bedrock of our tradition and our people’s history. That was the case this week. 

Let me also clarify that what I posted this week had little to do with BDS. That was actually one of the points I was trying to make: that DiNapoli was using an anti-BDS law to penalize a company for an action that has nothing to do with BDS. You see, BDS is a movement to boycott, divest and sanction the State of Israel as a whole. They make no distinction between Israel proper, the land inside the internationally recognized 1967 borders, and the Occupied Palestinian Territories. To the BDS movement as a whole, the Israeli settlers of Chavat Maon - who have beaten my father and terrorized and assaulted countless Palestinians - and the residents of the Jewish-Arab village Neve Shalom, are the same.   

Ben and Jerry’s takes a different stance. Their action did not comment on the legitimacy or lack thereof of the State of Israel. They self-define as “Jewish supporters of the State of Israel.” The boycott they announced is limited solely to the Jewish settlements in the Occupied Palestinian Territories. They wrote in the NY Times that what they did is not a rejection of Israel but  “of Israeli policy, which perpetuates an illegal occupation that is a barrier to peace and violates the basic human rights of the Palestinian people who live under the occupation.” 

Throwing this kind of boycott into the same basket as BDS amounts to silencing criticism of the state. It’s the same as telling critics of Egypt or China or India--or any of the other countries around the world doing horrific things--to keep quiet. There is a reason why so many American Jews I meet are afraid to speak their minds, or even to hold an opinion on Israel/Palestine, and it has to do with messaging like this.  

Ben and Jerry’s is not questioning the legitimacy of Israel. They are questioning the legitimacy of a brutal 54 year-long occupation, and the actions of the State of Israel to fill the territory with Jews and create a system of segregation and oppression.  

Ben and Jerry’s is not saying that Israel is the worst country in the world. They know like we do that China is holding a million people in concentration camps and forcing them to pick the cotton that ends up on your clothes and mine. They know like we do that half of the population of Afghanistan and many other countries is under attack daily by the men who run it. They know that LGBTQ people are killed by the state in many countries in the world. They know that this country is still chasing black people at the border on horseback and keeps close to two million mostly black and brown people in prison.  

The reason they singled out one government is because of what I began with. It has to do with who we are. They clearly identify with Israel. They care about what goes on there. They feel a stake in it. And they were moved to take a stand on the one country that claims to speak for them as Jews.  

They’ve come to the same conclusion that many of the Israelis I know have arrived at: there’s something wrong with buying wine made in Jewish owned vineyards near Nablus, or cheese made in Jewish-owned farms outside of Hebron, both of which sit on lands confiscated from Palestinian farmers. It’s somehow different than wine or cheese from Binyamina, south of Haifa.  

We could agree with them or we could disagree. But to try to silence them in this uninformed way, which doesn’t even rise to the standards of the executive order that DiNapoli claims as his reason (and the rest of the politicians in the state have been mum on), is wrong.  

מבשרך לא תתעלם, implored Isaiah, Do not ignore your own flesh.  

Ben and Jerry’s refused to ignore the pain they feel over their ancestral homeland. They are choosing to engage, rather than to step back and say: “Oh it’s just so crazy over there.” They’re choosing to step in, despite the serious financial damages they stand to lose, rather than to hide.  

In this week’s Parashah we are introduced to our ancestor, Jacob, whose name will be changed next week. “You will no longer be called Jacob” the angel says to him. Jacob, the little brother of, the one who comes in the heel of (the literal meaning of his name), the follower who did what Mommy told him and ruined his relationship with his brother. No more of that. From now on, the angel tells him, you will have your own name, the name of one who doesn’t shy away, but struggles, leads and takes risks. “Your name will be Israel, because you have struggled with God and with humans and were not beaten.”  

Israel means to wrestle. Whether or not we agree or disagree with what they’ve done, Ben and Jerry’s is wrestling with Zion. Let’s not divest from wrestling. I hope you write me back some wrestling notes with whatever you may be thinking or feeling about this flawed communication.

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

MUSIC: Kuma Elohim

This is rabbi Misha’s melody for Psalms 86 verse 8:

קוּמָ֣ה אֱ֭לֹהִים שָׁפְטָ֣ה הָאָ֑רֶץ כִּֽי־אַתָּ֥ה תִ֝נְחַ֗ל בְּכָל־הַגּוֹיִֽם׃

Arise, O God, judge the earth, for all the nations are Your possession.

Tripp Dudley : Tabla

Marandi Hostetter : Violin

John Murchison : Bass

Yonatan Gutfeld : Guitar and singing

Rabbi Misha Shulman : singing

Conversing in the Field

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

MUSIC: Lecha Dodi

Lecha Dodi

‘Come my friend’ is the hymn sung during the synagogue service on Friday night to welcome the Sabbath. It was composed by Solomon Alkabetz, a Kabbalist (mystic).

Come beloved to meet the bride, to welcome the face of Shabbat.

Keep and remember spoken at once, we heard the one divinity.

She is One, and her name is One, in name, beauty, and song.

To greet her we go, for she is the source of blessing.​

Poured from the ancient beginning, last in creation,​ first in mind.

Palace of the Queen, secret city, rise, shake off the dust.

Long have you sat in the valley of tears! Her compassion flows over you.

Wake up wake up! For your light has come, rise and shine.

Woken awoken speak a song, the glory of spirit shines over you.

Come in peace, crown of the beloved, in joy and radiance

From the faith of those who are a treasure, come bride, come.

Tripp Dudley : Darbuka

Marandi Hostetter : Violin

John Murchison : Qanun

Yonatan Gutfeld : Guitar and singing

Rabbi Misha Shulman : singing

Standing the Face of God

Lot's wife standing in perpetual prayer in the Judean Desert.

Dear friends,

The Merriam Webster dictionary gives thirteen different meanings for the word “stand” as an intransitive verb, 7 as a transitive verb, and 3 of what they term the essential meaning of the verb. Each of them is true to how we use the word in English. None touch upon how the rabbis understand the word. 

אין עמידה אלא תפילה the Talmud declares, “there is no standing that is not praying.” Standing is praying say the sages. Prayer is an embodied practice that happens in relation to the world around us. It is an action rather than an introspection. The rabbis trace this Jewish practice back to this week’s parashah, where after Sodom and Gemorrah are destroyed and Lot’s wife turned to a pillar of salt we find the following verse: 

וַיַּשְׁכֵּ֥ם אַבְרָהָ֖ם בַּבֹּ֑קֶר אֶ֨ל־הַמָּק֔וֹם אֲשֶׁר־עָ֥מַד שָׁ֖ם אֶת־פְּנֵ֥י יְהֹוָֽה׃ 

Early the next morning Abraham got up and returned to the place where he had stood before the Lord. 

Truth be told, the Hebrew is more complex and interesting than this (and any other translation I found) expresses. Yes, Abraham woke up early the next morning, those are the first three words וַיַּשְׁכֵּ֥ם אַבְרָהָ֖ם בַּבֹּ֑קֶר. The next two, אֶ֨ל־הַמָּק֔וֹם mean “to the place.” So he woke up early to the place, which most interpreters agree means he went there quickly or went straight there.  The next couplet אֲשֶׁר־עָ֥מַד means “in which he stood.” All of this the translation captures decently. But the final piece of the verse אֶת־פְּנֵ֥י יְהֹוָֽה׃ is untranslateable. The Hebrew word “et” from our phrase “Amad et peney Adonai” denotes a direct object. Literally this would be translated: “Where he stood the face of Adonai.” Standing is not a verb that takes a direct object. We stand on, before, up, to. Then what is the meaning of “standing the face of God?” 

The commentators are silent on this phrase. They seem to see it as a type of phrasing that may have been prevalent during the time when Genesis was written, and that is comprehensible enough to us. It goes along with phrases like את האלוהים התהלך נח, Noah walked God, normally translated Noah walked with God.  

In my view, however this line is too central to the way we pray today to ignore, and might hold some key to understanding what we mean when we use the word “prayer.” In the Talmud this verse is the proof text for the fact that Abraham created the practice of the morning prayer. When the Talmud uses the word Tefilah, prayer it is referring to the Amidah prayer – literally the Standing prayer, which is our central prayer in the morning, afternoon and evening service. 

In a sense, whenever we pray the Amidah we are leaning on this instant in our collective imagination when Abraham “stood the face of Adonai.” What was the nature of his prayer? The clearest thing about it was that it was a dialogue. God says he’s going to destroy Sodom, and Abraham answers. They go back and forth, conversing with one another. The other clear thing about it is that Abraham does not stand God’s decision to destroy an entire city. “Abraham came forward and said, “Will You sweep away the righteous along with the wicked?” Abraham demands of God to act according to God’s job description; the righteous judge. “Far be it from You! Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?” What follows is the well-known haggling over how many righteous people Abraham must find in order to spare the city. 

Whenever we pray the Amidah we hearken back to challenging the ultimate authority, we stand up for what’s right, we demand goodness. In so doing we embody the face of God that we invoke when we speak the words of the priestly blessing: יאר יהוה פניו אליך, “May Adonai shine Her face toward you.” 

It’s hard to stand up for something. When we do we often buckle under the pressure, or revert back to other things. But to stand in Hebrew also means to stop, as in the verse: “And the sea stood from its fury” (Jonah 1:15). Three times a day we are taught to cease what we are doing, to quit participating in the flaws of the world, the pressures of the particular ideology and culture of our time and place, and the fantastical rushing of our minds, to stand firm like a tree planted firmly in the middle of a gushing river.  "Even if a snake is wrapped around your heel you should not interrupt your Amidah," says the Talmud. Remain standing, firm like a tree.

Prayer is stopping. Prayer is refusing to accept wrong. Prayer is reminding God and people and ourselves what we are all supposed to be.   

Wishing you a peaceful Shabbat filled with sitting and lying down, and some standing as well. 

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

MUSIC: Lechu Neranena

Lechu Neranena

This is a melody by our music director, Yonatan Gutfeld, written for psalm 95, inspired by the Hebrew word Neranena that combines song and joy.

Tripp Dudley: Darbuka

Marandi Hostetter : Violin

John Murchison : Bass

Yonatan Gutfeld : Piano and singing

Rabbi Misha Shulman : singing

Lechu N’ranena Ladonai, naria l’tzur yisheinu

Nekadma fanav b’toda, beezmirot naria lo

Ki el gadol adonai, umelech gadol al kol elohim

Asher b’yado mech’k’rei aretz, v’toh’afot harim lo

Come let’s go and sing to the divine

Let’s shout to the foundation of life

Let’s greet her presence in gratitude

Let’s serenade her in hymn.

She is a mighty god

Great Mother of all the gods.

In her hands is the crust of the Earth

And the summits of mountaintops.

Action as Beginning

Dear friends,

Beginnings are important. How you set out will likely color the rest of your journey. In this week’s parashah the Jews begin, or rather the Hebrews, out of which the Jews will emerge. If we judge this beginning from the first few words, it’s a marvelous one: 

וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יְהֹוָה֙ אֶל־אַבְרָ֔ם לֶךְ־לְךָ֛ מֵאַרְצְךָ֥ וּמִמּֽוֹלַדְתְּךָ֖ וּמִבֵּ֣ית אָבִ֑יךָ אֶל־הָאָ֖רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר אַרְאֶֽךָּ׃  

Adonai said to Abram, “Go forth from your land, from your birthplace and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” 

The actor is able to hear the primordial voice calling on him to begin a life that is his own. “The land,” the kabbalists tell us, is not physical. It’s a form of wisdom that will be cracked open and revealed to Abraham as his life unfolds. Our first ancestors had the ability to hear, to listen, and to set out in search of their unique path. This bodes well. 

Quickly, though the journey sours. 

Abraham, worried that his wife’s good looks will get him killed, convinces Sarah to be presented to the Pharaoh of Egypt as his sister, not his wife. The Pharaoh takes her in and sleeps with her (or is about to according to some of the commentators), and as a result gets a disease. Incredulous at Abraham’s lie he sends them away. 

Shortly after Abraham complains to God that he has no child, and as such all of God’s promises of a nation that will sprout from him seem bogus. The rabbis point out that his prayer, while logical, is selfish. He could be praying for Sarah, or for the two of them. He could at least acknowledge her existence. Instead he lets his self-pity drive him and complains at God:  

וְאָנֹכִ֖י הוֹלֵ֣ךְ עֲרִירִ֑י 

I walk alone. 

This is the line that leads right into the ugliest chapter in this beginning, the story of the birth of Abraham’s first child, Ishmael.  

And Sarai said to Abram, “Look, YHVH has kept me from bearing. Consort with my maid; perhaps I shall have a son through her.” And Abram heeded Sarai’s request.  So Sarai, Abram’s wife, took her maid, Hagar the Egyptian—after Abram had dwelt in the land of Canaan ten years—and gave her to her husband Abram as concubine. He cohabited with Hagar and she conceived; and when she saw that she had conceived, her mistress was lowered in her esteem. And Sarai said to Abram, “The wrong done me is your fault! I myself put my maid in your bosom; now that she sees that she is pregnant, I am lowered in her esteem. YHVH decide between you and me!”  

Abram said to Sarai, “Your maid is in your hands. Deal with her as you think right.” Then Sarai tormented her, and she ran away from her. 

God then steps in and protects Hagar, and makes big promises regarding her son to be. But I am more interested in the human behavior displayed, and so are several of the rabbis. Nachmanides writes:

“Our mother (Sarah) did indeed sin by this affliction, and Abraham also by his permitting her to do so.”

This is a courageous move from a major rabbinic voice. In most cases the commentators see it as their role to explain, defend and exult the actions of the ancestors. It takes the type of originality and guts that Abraham displayed in the beginning of the parashah for Nachmanides to speak out plainly in this fashion.  

The medieval rabbi cannot ignore the reality around him. He sees Jews oppressed by their Muslim rulers all over the world. He sees strife between the seed of Isaac and the seed of Ishmael. So he continues: 

“And so, G-d heard Hagar’s affliction and gave her a son who would be a wild-ass of a man (as God tells Hagar), to afflict the seed of Abraham and Sarah with all kinds of affliction.” 

It’s a complex statement. On the one hand it paints Muslims as wild asses. And on the other it places the blame for the strife between Jews and Muslims squarely on the Jews. In any case we see a powerful attitude toward beginnings, rife with warning and possibility; How something begins is how it will continue.

Each of our actions is a beginning, and carries with it the weight of that which will come out of it. After all, we each have our own unique journey, hear our unique voices, make our unique mistakes and have the capacity to begin a unique tribe. We will all be shown the land that we must come to. On our way there let’s try to make our all of our beginnings openings to the unfolding of goodness. 

I am feeling under the weather so unfortunately we will not be holding our Kabbalat Shabbat in person this evening. I hope you will meet me on Zoom instead.

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha

MUSIC: The Blessing of Returning

The Blessing of Returning - ברכת החזרה

Song written by our music director, Yonatan Gutfeld, to lyrics by Guy Perel, a Tel Aviv poet and Jungian therapist.

The poem is written as a modern Jewish blessing and explores distance and longing.

This is Torah Study

Dear friends,

Hebrew school kicked off this week and it reminded me how fun it is to have conversations with young people about questions of spirituality and tradition. We sat in a circle and spoke the words of the Ashrei: we will praise you forever. I asked the kids about the notion of praising God and whether it makes sense to them. Answers differed as you might expect, but there was a general sense in the room that there is certainly something strange about praising God. I shared with them that when I was their age I didn’t understand why God would need my praise, or the praise of any human being, but that eventually I started seeing it differently, realizing that the praise we say is not for God but for us.

After learning a niggun we turned to the Torah. Naomi unwrapped it and Aliyah held The Yad in her hand, the pointer. When you introduce kids to a Torah scroll you sometimes realize what a crazy thing is. The scroll we were reading from was over 100 years old, and had survived the Holocaust in Romania, traveled to Israel in the 60s and then flew to Brooklyn at some point after that. It is identical or almost identical to almost every other Torah scroll in the world, including those that are written today. I watched as the kids touched the parchment and told me it felt like leather or paper or animal skin. Their eyes grew big when they were taught the labor went into this scroll, and goes into every one of these scrolls.

Finally we all chanted the blessing before the reading together and then Yoni chanted the first day of creation. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. and the earth was formless an empty and darkness hovered over the surface of the deep.”

This is one of my favorite lines to teach. You can pause on pretty much any phrase and ask all kinds of questions. In the beginning. Of what I ask. What is this beginning? Is it a prolonged period or a moment? And what are our beginnings, as we start this new year? The question that came up with the kids this week was about that second verse. What does it mean that the earth was formless and empty? Did it exist or did it not exist ? is emptiness really empty and is formlessness not there? Aliyah said it’s a blob. June said it’s potential. Jacob said in any case it exists.When one goes slow she can scratch at what’s underneath these words. This is Torah study.

Then We chanted the blessing after the Torah together.

Later that week I met with Rami who has his bar mitzvah coming up in a month. As we were discussing his Torah portion suddenly he felt the need to share with me something: I don’t believe in God. Great, I said, but you know you’re going to have to speak to God at your bar mitzvah. When you say Baruch Atah Adonai, Blessed are you Adonai, what is it that you are going to be saying do you think? How can you construe those words to make sense for you? This is a question I often ask students who struggle with their belief in God, but really it’s a great question for theists to ask themselves as well. How can you re-construe ancient words to mean something for you? And specifically the recurring phrase Blessed are You Adonai. What might that mean to you today, and why actually are you saying it? For Ramy it had more to do with tradition, with his parents, but he also suggested something incredible: I’ll be saying goodbye to God. We ploughed that statement, imagined his future speakings of the same phrase, and wallowed in time for a moment. This is Torah study.

In our conversation about praise Daniel suggested that praise is easier once you’ve come out as a difficult situation. I shared with him that earlier that day I conducted a funeral, in which the family and I paused to consider the words we say when we hear of a loved one who has passed: Baruch Dayan Emet, Blessed is the Judge of truth. An amazing woman had lived an amazing life that she filled with beautiful creativity, questions, answers, movement and richness. Surrounding her casket where her seven grandchildren, walking her on her last way, And then singing her praises. That is also Torah study.

I very much look forward to seeing you at our first in person Kabbalat Shabbat next Friday at 630 on the roof of the 14th Street Y, or on Zoom if you can’t make it in person.

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha