Broad Strokes & Big Pictures: Moses, the Exodus and Israel Today

D'var Torah for Chai Minyan at Shaare Zedek, Jan 4, 2013
 
Here we are, at the start of Shemot, the second book of the Torah.  We're immediately concerned with the naming of the generations, the tribes, and their plentiful offspring, but our main focus is really Moses.  Moses has his fair share of difficulty with identity development and in his relationship with God, but eventually he gathers the Israelites for the culmination of Shemot's story--the act for which the Greek speaking Jews of Alexandria, Egypt named this book-- the Exodus Aigyptous.  Which generations of Jews have shortened to what we call Exodus.  

Ok- for those of you that missed it - there’s my crazy cool fact straight from Nahum Sarna - The name Exodus is derived from Jews whose vernacular was Greek. I like the notion that even the non-hebraicized name evolved from our people, who lived within Egypt at the time. And even though that leaves us considering two different types of Jews, in two different places, using different languages, I really want *us* to focus tonight on the broadest strokes we can imagine for Jews, no matter time or their location.

You see, recently I attended an event where David Ben Gurion’s grandson told stories of David’s experiences as the Prime Minister of Israel. In 1954, he traveled to the United States to meet with President Eisenhower and seek the help and support for difficult moments of the fledgling Israel. During that trip, in a meeting with the then State Secretary of Administration, John Foster Dulles, Ben Gurion was confronted with a high degree of arrogance:
Tell me, Prime Minister –  Dulles said - Who are the people you and your country really represent?” How is it that Jews are really the same? Being that they are Jews of Yemen, Poland, Romania, Morocco, Iraq, the Soviet Union or Brazil ”? After 2000 years of exile, can we really be talking about one nation, one culture, one legacy of Jewish tradition?

Now, for those of you knowledgeable about Israeli immigration waves and even current policies, you might be inclined to agree with Dulles at least to some extent.

But Ben-Gurion replied:
“See, Mr. Secretary, and only 200 years ago the ship Mayflower sailed from England with the first settlers who settled in what is now is the great democratic powers called the United States of America. Please, walk out on the streets and ask ten North American children the following:
What was the name captain of the ship? How long was the journey? What did the passengers eat during the Journey, and how did the sea behave? Probably , you will not get many accurate answers,” he surmised.
But “Please see now it’s been 3,000 years since the Jews left Egypt. I ask you that in one your travels around the world, try and meet ten Jewish children in different countries; asked them what was the travel called?
What was the name captain of the group?
How long was the journey?
What were the passengers eating during the journey, and finally ask how did the sea behave?
“When you have the answers, and wonder again about Israel, try to remember and appreciate the question you just asked me”.

Lately, the media has focused a lot on what separates one type of Jew from another. Whether it’s so called “Jewish garb,” economic standing, Israeli politics, women of the wall - or larger issues of gender segregation - color of skin, country of origin,  issues surrounding right of return,  or more complicated still, right to identify as a Jew, or marriage rights, it is so easy to get caught up in the disparate  and often disheartening reality. Sometimes, these are issues relevant to American society or global Jewish issues, sometimes Israel takes an American idea and translates it for it’s own cultural impact. This spring, for instance, a production of Hairspray will be performed with the Ethiopian cultural center in Jerusalem, in an effort to raise awareness about race relations in Israel. But for now, I’d like to set aside the dirty differences that may frustrate us. To acknowledge that “claims” on Torah are difficult, complicated, and understanding of Torah is ever evolving. I’d like to suggest that while this particular book of Torah emphasizes the difficult necessity of the Israelite journey from Egypt to Israel, this Parsha focuses on the hardship at home. It provides space for dissenting opinions. Moses is critical of himself and questioning of God. He doesn’t trust that he can convey God’s message to the “elders of Israel,” so much so he allows his brother to speak for him even after being given the rod that will allow him to conduct miracles to imbue the elders with faith. He’s run out of Egypt once and his confidence is shot.

I have to say - if the path of righteousness isn’t inherent or natural or even direct for the leader whom we give as the gold standard, all the moreso it doesn’t have to be for us. I am hoping we can all find more compassion where we differ from one another and when we approach the other, as well as when we approach Torah.

May we all be blessed to loosen our bounds on Torah, to listen to others understanding, reading, interpretation and incarnation. May we know a Torah that has endless life and endless meaning. May we not be limited by a search for proof, for evidence, for our own hand prints on the building bricks of the Egypt that remains today. But may we also build communities of Torah that reflect our values, our understanding, our interpretations, and may we learn to teach one another when we hear the voice of God and when we raise our voices in prayer.

(One final thought) Just over the holiday season there was a two part series entitled “Back to the Beginning” which was Christiane Amanpour’s search, along with her son, for the root of the three major monotheistic religions - in a scene where she was attempting to find where Noah’s Ark rests. One commentator, the author of Walking the Bible pointed out - We’re not going to find some lost voice of God, like a Beatles recording, that we can digitally remaster and put out for all to experience on the internet,” … many people believe that “if you can prove that one screw existed, you can prove that the entire machine existed” … 3000 years of our story and we’re still telling it in exciting, enlivening ways. We're gathering to hear it, to repeat it, to celebrate it. For me, that’s enough to prove the entire machine exists… although God as a Beatles album sure would be sweet.

Prayer (Pose)

I woke up this morning long before an alarm clock told me to.

As summer winds down, life should either be like
an alcoholic snow cone
(doesn't it look like a sunrise?),
or like  a fruit infused healthy cooler.
This is obviously the former.
*But* it's from last weekend.

I'm not a morning person. So it's always a surprise, my body being ready to rise and shine before expected. I was particularly thrown this morning, after having gone to bed just 4 hours prior. How could I possibly be ready to face the day. But there I was, energized and unable to go back to bed. I did just finish taking a course of steroids last week, so I suppose that's where the unaccounted for energy and odd sleep patterns come from.

Anyway, no matter the reason, there I was. Wide awake. I started my morning with home brewed iced tea and a series of yoga poses. I considered that maybe there was a minyan somewhere near me performing selichot (the penitential prayers leading up to Rosh Hashana/the high holiday season) that I should look up and head to, but I was spending my entire day ahead within a community and, quite honestly, didn't want to be immersed in one just because my body was convinced I hadn't been out partying until 2 am the night before.

Dancing Shoes... or devil's work?

In fact, my feet were cut up from cutting a rug while wearing shoes I hadn't worn in seasons. So, I stayed home in those wee hours this morning. I had my own prayerful day... while I stood in prayer pose, sat in prayer pose, thinking over my relationship with prayer all the while... but in a sort of a voided disconnect where brain and body weren't really in communication.

I finalized details to meet friends for the subway ride down to our event. I ate breakfast. I packed extra snacks for the day. I made a canteen of Good Earth iced tea to go. I was running perfectly on time.

Then I walked outside and couldn't help myself. I wanted to be a reflection of the skies above me. It was the perfect sunny day. It was the perfect temperature. There were darling clouds, large, white, beautifully generous, nearing the sun. I thanked God for the sun and the glory and for allowing me to feel blessed. I thanked God for blessing me with this day... and then got swallowed up into the subway station, not before being jostled by a homeless man, and accomplishing the tasks at hand.

At the end of the day, we walked a bit across the base of Manhattan. I must admit it, I wasn't concerned with the outdoors. All I could do was thank God for the people who'd surrounded me, who'd inspired me, who'd made me feel more reflective than prayer has and more motivated than I can be when I am solely in my own (head)space. On the subway, another homeless man, I have a policy against giving cash on the subway. But my snack of grapes was more full than empty. I offered them, and he accepted. It wasn't a balancing experience, or intended to counter the morning's confrontation, but there it was, something a little out of the ordinary.

As I got back home and took a walk around the neighborhood, I couldn't help but reflect that there were words said today that reached me at my core. They effected me on a personal and communal level. They enveloped me in a sense of gratitude. They were able to remind me why putting care into each relationship I cultivate is so important. They connected me in a way I wasn't connected this morning. They allowed me to end my day in a different type of prayer than I had started it with. Not needing the physical movements of yoga as the gateway to the mindfulness, but simply being mindful.

And, I must admit, being indoors wasn't so bad. After all, I spent last Saturday and Monday almost exclusively outdoors, and all that got me was a bit of a sunburn. Well, and tickets to Shakespeare in the Park. I can never resent a day spent in line for tickets to Into the Woods.

Chugging along...

I've been chugging along lately. Working on a lot of different projects has kept me sometimes food blogging, but mostly piling up recipes and restaurants to blog about. Spending time with friends when I'm not volunteering, educating, programming, writing the book and actually, you know, working at my fulltime job has been number one priority followed by time for yoga and general relaxation and exercise.

But this morning I woke up feeling an endless stream of gratitude. First, following an extremely productive and meaningful workday where students and faculty are back on campus and purpose is reenergized if not newly defined, I spent dinner with a friend in from Israel (and our ragtag group). Then more gratitude that when I got home and got a call, "I'm headed to your supermarket, wanna meet me?" When else in my life am I going to have 9:30pm grocery shopping dates (that aren't for children's tylenol emergencies)?

When else am I going to be able to come home, realize the book I need for the educational project I'm working on actually belongs to my friend and neighbor and be able to stop by and just pick it up? No schedule, just a quick (and really appreciative!) text message? When am I going to also find time to catch up with a friend who recently moved cross country or, over a series of emails, discover that I'm seeing a dear friend 4 days in a row (it's like we're practically going on vacation together!) or, best of all, when am I going to settle in from all of that to then develop the educational material and explore the possibilities of challenging traditional understanding of relationships we develop with God during this holiday season.

Mostly, the quiet force behind last night being so jam packed is not an endless source of energy. That seems to have fizzled a little post-30th (maybe 31st?) birthday. It's more likely a side effect of the short term medication I'm on after having bug bites the size of my the island on which I live. Nonetheless, feeling an obligation to take advantage of what will be a very short-lived burst of energy, I committed myself whole heartedly to every encounter yesterday and will again today, in the hopes that gratitude can continue to flow through me, warm me, and help prepare me for the coming weeks of reflection, of direction and of rededicating myself to everything that's kept me chugging along this year.

But I'm also feeling inspired, and forward movement is forward movement, and here's to a year where that just keeps happening.

Reappearing ... and the Punanny State

I didn't mean it! I'm so sorry. I disappeared to never never write land because of great projects I'm working on. My book draft is coming along so well, I'm glowing with pride. Whenever I think "it's time to write" that's what I settle in on. I get to play with one liners about dirty dishes and dishing dirt. Back at it in full force after it was in the incubator stage for a while because I co-chaired an amazing conference with a phenomenal team called Limmud NY which I'll gush about another time soon. Since then, I've helped to put together an amazing alumni event for Columbia which was beautiful, and have a similar Columbia Hillel event this week.  All in all, it's been a crazy few months. My full time job is also kicking it up a notch this semester with 2-4 events on our calendar per week and some crazy other cool projects down the pipe which I've been working on.

So I don't really, read the news anymore. Or have time for "living the dream" whether its American, Jewish or just the kind that hit you when you actually reach REM. So what I'm most grateful for this week is that some people out there in the big bad world are defending my rights to womanhood with their sketch comedy-political commentary take on men being the only voices given credence when Congress convened a panel last week to settle the standoff between the Catholic Church and women... I could say OY but I'll also recommend you watch it, and perhaps yesterday's as well, and even read the Guardian piece which does a great job exposing our dirty laundry to the UK.


Admission of an over-share: In a month where my birth control was recalled, I'm filling particularly close to these particular types of women's issues. Also, yes, I was prescribed said birth control when it was determined that I have PCOS - polycystic ovarian syndrome - which Stewart also mentions. And of course when you're thinking of personal level women's issues something always come along that gives you a worrisome frown line in your big picture scope - fortunately, when the topic of human trafficking resounded on my radar today it was solution oriented thanks to CNN's Freedom Project. Today's topic was about how two people and a huge number of supporters are helping women with an economic hand up which will help keep communities from selling their children into our modern slave trade. 


Finally, in another issue close to my heart, (ahem, yes, sex ed,) back here at home, in the Jewish community is taking on a progressive overtone - at least that's the claim of the upcoming event at the JCC Manhattan which should be filled with some good inspiration... If you want to join me let me know!

Anyway, next post promises to be about what a wild, crazy, and irresponsibly expensive week this one has turned out to be - as I'm off to Red Rooster Harlem for their opening of "Downstairs" - with Cal Massey inspired Blues and amazing food.


And my belated inclusion ... aptly said on the Colbert Report, about the house of representatives hearings on women's reproduction, "Aren't guys really the ones who should be talking about reproductive rights, because we're the ones who have the responsibility of telling the lady it's really her responsibility." Steven Colbert asked of Nancy Pelosi, while he further mused on why women are "so obsessed" with controlling their own bodies. Perhaps words like these will enlighten the people who are making decisions for us.

Embracing the Irrational

This is just one of many techniques I used in order to heal well and feel well after tearing my cartilage just eleven weeks ago.

Undo, not to, aka my "ignore" list

My ignore list is not about a Facebook feature ... although, today Facebook was on it.

My ignore list is the thing I create when I have a few urgent priorities... and don't want any distractions. Today, I had a short work day due to doctor's appointments and the like. I left my phone in my purse, I had a mini lunch of yogurt and low fat granola. Kept things short and sweet.

On my way to work I compiled what I wouldn't do today for the hours I was in my office: No errands on campus, no break for lunch, no facebook unless it's work related (usually, I take a FB break during lunch and, occasionally a really short one during my 3 o'clock slump/tea break etc). Sometimes I cut personal email too, today, I did.

It's a great way to focus and even relax a bit ... When I left the office, I had that momentary "where's my phone?" lapse, because I couldn't imagine leaving it in my bag for 6 hours.

When you're over committed, give yourself permission to disconnect from a number of things that distract you along the way. It will keep you organized, and especially if "to do" lists make you cringe for any reason, this is another approach to help you out!

Do you have organizational strategies that keep you focused on a tough day? Do you cringe at to-do lists? What's your organizational dilemma, at work or home?

Bargaining (a Tactic for Children, and Children of God)

Oh, that tactical aspect of negotiation. I've heard a lot of it lately.
Maybe it's because I've been taking public transit while I recover (at break neck speeds thanks to my extraordinary physical therapist and support system!). Maybe it's the fact I have a handful of friends who are currently grieving. Perhaps it's just the appropriate time of year, so I'm attuned to it.

Never mind the reason. When, over the course of two days, I overhear three conversations where kids are bargaining with a parent, I know something particularly cosmic is going on. Young boys, in most of these instances, pleading for a dog, or a delayed bed time. Bargaining with a mom, it seems, is not entirely different than the rituals we participate in, bargaining for our own freedoms in the coming year with our ever present parent, God.

These sons' pleas reminded me of the promises we all make, to take care of something or someone outside of ourselves (with the likes of "I'll walk the dog!" and "can my younger brother stay up too?") , the type of promises we have to disavow ourselves of as we are seated at the table of "who shall live and who shall die" this Friday night.

What I most understood from the familiar banter, stereotypical though it seemed, "I will never ask for anything again" and a "please" that held enough extra vowels to fill all the seats on the M104, was that the negotiation between parent and child is one of unique compassion, patience and attentiveness. One mother allowed her child to go through the entire argument without interruption. She let him put all of his explanations out on the table. Another said no to each sentence. Our parent is one who does not always answer right away. One who's answer we don't always agree with or want to hear. Sometimes we find God silent for too long. Long enough to wonder whether God is an absence rather than a divine presence.

May we all come to prayer this holiday season knowing that God is everything or anything we need. God may even be what we don't know we need. Our strength is in knowing how to share ourselves, our motivations, our desires, our dreams. It helps to be aware that God may not answer us right away, or in the way that we'd hoped. Because while God may not have limitations, we all do. Like a child begging to stay up late, I cannot always see the ramifications my desires might have in tomorrow's light. I hope we can each break through walls that need to be broken and identify the patterns that no longer serve us, and most importantly, I hope that we learn to better serve one another in the coming year.

May you be inscribed in the book of life, and may we all help write our own books this year.