Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Struggling with Silence-- Sh'mini (Leviticus 9:1-11:47)


In our lives:
Sometimes we are hit close to home by sudden tragedies in our lives. Whether hearing of a sudden illness or a tragic death often we are left searching for answers to questions that are unexplainable. Tragedy is hard to comprehend, and sometime we simply do not have answers. We struggle with finding words to try to comfort the mourner. And truthfully there is nothing we can say to make the pain of such losses disappear. Think of a time when you learned of tragic news in your own life or in the life of someone you are close with. How did you react? Were you even able to respond?


Reflecting:
I recently learned of a college classmate of mine who was tragically killed along with her husband and mother-in-law this past summer in a head on collision. Their 4-month-old daughter survived the crash. This young woman was bright, and always bubbly. Right after college, she became a wife, and then a new mother. She was a beautiful soul on the inside and out. As I reflect on her death, it is hard to comprehend both because of how untimely it is, and because of her inherently good nature.


One of the reasons religion appeals to people is because sometimes as we search for answers we draw on stories found in religion for the ability to explain the unexplainable. While they may not offer explanations, these stories can show us examples of circumstances where we can learn about ourselves through understanding the struggles of our ancestors. We may seek these stories to provide cultural/ spiritual guidance for how to live a fulfilling life. The stories of Torah can provide a feeling of being linked to a larger past and current community as people look for a shared experience.


I learned a great deal from my friend Nabilah at Brandeis. She was a practicing Muslim, and her family was originally from Bangladesh. As a student, I know that she sometimes struggled with people’s perceptions of her nationality and religion. We talked about both cultural and religious similarities and differences between American-Jews, and Muslim-Americans.


Nabilah writes in her blog, “What's more interesting is that God has asked us to interpret the Qur’an on our own to be able to guide our own lives. I mean how much more leeway can you get from a religion than that?” Nabilah Khan, (July 11, 2007)

Nabilah searched for answers by seeking her own interpretations of the Qur’an. This week I turn to torah portion, Sh’mini to seek answers for myself to explain the loss of a beautiful, questioning soul.


From the source:
Sh’mini teaches of the power and ability of G-d for both good and evil. We see G-d instantly take the lives of Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu because they disobeyed him. Moses struggles with how to comfort his brother Aaron. These two deaths act as a lesson for the Jewish people to practice the laws set upon them by G-d. While Moses does not understand the extreme action that G-d took in taking these young lives he finds it challenging to elicit a response both as a leader and a brother in order to help Aaron. Aaron has no response for Moses's comforting words, as the text says, vayidom Aharon (and Aaron was silent).


In Judaism we use ritual practices to provide comfort to the bereaved. The hardest thing is to continue living after experiencing the sudden death of a loved one. The mourner is lost not knowing where to turn, what to say, how to act, and how to continue going about our daily lives. In Judaism, it is customary to sit Shiva for seven days of mourning after a death. Shiva is communal, and the mourners are cared for by their community. It is also customary to sit in silence until the mourner talks. This is because we cannot possibly offer any words that would explain the loss or pain one feels in mourning. Silence is the only sense we can make of tragic events. Sometimes there are no words of explanation, just a continual search for meaning. As we see in Sh’mini Aaron’s silence is profound. This reaction teaches us that silence is an appropriate response for traumatic events which we cannot find answers for. Our shock and silence speaks louder than words ever could.


Further reading: "When Bad Things Happen to Good People." By Rabbi Harold Kushner


Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Vayikra and Tzav: The search for righteousness through sacrifice.


In Our Lives:
Sacrifice. What does the word even mean? In today’s definition, is a sacrifice more similar to a compromise or a selfless act of justice? What do we ‘sacrifice’ these days? We may find giving up our most valuable possessions of our time, food, money, goals, or our own needs may feel sacrificial. If this is the case, are sacrifices even quantifiable?

When it comes to self-sacrifice there are those who keep everything to themselves and look out for only his/her self. Then there are those who are too giving to the extreme that they forget even their own needs. Both for the self-centric and the extreme giver, I often think we need guidelines for how to maintain a healthy balance of the sacrifices we each make in our lives in order to maintain a caring community and larger global society while still fulfilling our own needs.

Reflecting:
When learning a Jewish practice called Mussar I engaged with rituals/ mitzvot (teachings) such as patience, and equanimity. The main idea was that each of us has an inclination towards good and an inclination towards evil or yetzer hatov, and yetzer hara. By engaging with this Jewish social justice practice of Mussar, one could balance between the two inclinations. This was done by asking yourself the question; ‘how am I serving the other?’ This question allowed me to consider the struggle of the other and to self-evaluate my reactions by accounting for how the other may or may not feel cared for in the situation. What is the other person’s burden? Just in asking yourself this questions requires a more sympathetic approach, and the ability to best serve the other.

From the source:
As we turn to a new book of Moses, Leviticus, we learn from the past two weeks torah portions (Vayikra, and Tzav) the value of sacrifice in biblical times. I dare to say the language surrounding the meaning of a sacrifice has changed quite a bit from what it is today. The torah shows the ways in which Jews became closer to G-d through the acts of these animal offerings. Today, instead of object sacrifices, we may offer our evil inclination as sacrifice. We may sacrifice this innate selfish or evil impulse in the hope of achieving either connection with G-d, our people, or in a broader sense in our goals of achieving global justice. A commentator on Vayikra states, “Those individuals who perform a single mitzvah draw themselves and the entire world toward righteousness.” Another commentator citing, “ When we want to draw close (l’hitkarev) to G-d, we must offer something of our own, that is, our ‘evil inclination.’” [1]

May we each continue to sacrifice for others in our lives in the hope that our actions will bring us closer to a more just, and righteous world.


[1] Comments this week come from The Torah A Women’s Commentary edited by: Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Andrea L. Weiss (pg. 588)

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

P'Kudei (Exodus 38:21- 40:38) -- Relationships: who will you ask to join the fight?


In our lives:
Have you ever thought about how your life revolves around a series of relationships that are in constant flux? A “relationship” is such a vague term. Some of us have easily 20, 50, hundreds, or maybe even thousands of relationships. A “relationship” is defined as the relation/ association between two or more people which may be either fleeting or enduring. Relationships can be professional, personal, intimate, interpersonal, or theoretical. In other words, you have some sort of relationship with every person, organization, and to everything that you encounter.

Reflecting:
Recognizing an abundance of relationships in our lives is easy. More importantly, how are our relationships cultivated and applied? The Jewish Organizing Initiative taught me the true power of relationships. I went from viewing the word “relationship” as exclusively applicable to dating, to a world in which I view my entire existence as it relates to my “relationships” with other people, organizations, communities, and things.

The Jewish Organizing Initiative helped me learn how to tell my own story, how to have a one-to-one (an intentional conversation), how to evaluate my own and other’s self interests, and many more skills which strengthen relationships. Organizing skills allows every conversation I have to be both strategic and fruitful. I spent the year building on, putting into practice, and creating a vocabulary for skills that create change among individual people, and entire communities. It is amazing the collective power that relationships can create. Think about those you choose to help, or what organizations you choose to donate your money to. If someone you have a good relationship with asks you to prioritize their particular cause, and it is in line with your own self-interests then most likely you will do whatever you can to help!

JOI taught me not only how to listen, and identify the challenge, but how to research, connect and apply solutions to systemic problems. These skills all came back to thinking critically and strategically about my relationships. Think about this… two people who share a similar problem may not be able to find a solution, but by sharing their problem with others, and by cultivating relationships, you may find that 200 people share the same problem. Now, you have built power through relationships, and have a need for systemic change. A community organizer may help to orchestrate relationship building among communities. The organizer may enlist the community to start a research campaign, and develop a solution where the community can hold those in power (i.e. government) accountable to the proposed solution. The collective people may ask that action be taken in a public forum. And that is powerful! Change like this could not be achieved without the power of relationships. Never underestimate the power of people and the ways in which individual relationships can build that power. So, share your story and think about who you know and how you can help each other make a difference!

From the source:
Last week in parshat P’Kudei we see a glimpse into the relationship between G-d and Moses. G-d trusts Moses with leading the Israelite people, and Moses in turn trusts G-d’s power. Throughout the book of Exodus, we have seen strengths and weaknesses in the relationship between G-d and Moses, and Moses and the Israelite people. But, as we complete the construction of the tabernacle, we see how the power of relationships has affected Moses, G-d, and the Isaelite people. They have learned from their mistakes and have begun to work together. They have proven to one another their ability to do great work,

“ Just as G-d had commanded Moses, so the Israelites had done all the work. And when Moses saw that they had performed all the tasks—as G-d had commanded, so they had done—Moses blessed them.” (Exodus 39: 42-3)

These relationships rely on one another to achieve their common goals of holiness. They want to be able to feel G-d’s presence in a collected space (the tabernacle). In order to feel G-d’s presence the Israelites must abide put faith and trust into their leaders, and rely on one another to collectively build a holy site. Just as Moses uses community organizing by working through his relationships we too can help strengthen our campaigns when we collectively use our relationships to create united power.

The take-away:
How are you using your relationships to organize power, and create change? Are you constantly thinking about how to strengthen your relationships? Are you looking for ways to create change, and do you ask those around you to help you do so? No? Take the time now to figure out what it is you will fight for! And who will you ask to join the movement? Want to learn these skills?? JOI is now accepting applications from passionate Jews looking to fight for change! www.jewishorganizing.org

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Vayak'heil (Exodus 35:1-38:20) -- The Spiritual Challenge


In Our Lives:

Where do we feel spiritual? Do we need rituals to feel spiritual? How do we physically or emotionally get to a place where our souls feel thoroughly nourished? Spirituality is individual and yet many may feel the ability to reach an inner peace when doing similar rituals or upon seeing similar sights. Unlike other religions Judaism doesn't have a specified place in which people travel towards on a journey, like the hajj towards Mecca for the Muslim faith. Nor does Judaism have a desirable mental state of achievement like complete "nirvana" for the Buddhist. There is no pilgrimage, or living person, that Jews feel hold their key to spirituality. Yet rituals exist that many Jews partake in and may feel helps them towards a collective feeling of holiness.


Our current world is constantly tuned in to our "gadgets"; computers, phones, and e-readers consume our days at work, home, or school. I find more people I know seem to be walking around in a daze or utterly dependent on their iPhone/iPad/ Blackberry for the latest media update. It becomes easy to forget what it is like to connect in person anymore, and even when we are in person the “gadget” has begun to take precedence! Spiritual connection either with ourselves or with others seems to be quickly becoming a thing of the past. Does anyone take the time anymore to sit and reflect? There is not necessarily a link between religion and spirituality, one does not need to be religious to be spiritual; you can have an innate sense of connectivity without participating in any religion. But, how do we expect to solve our own challenges anymore or find a way to see the bigger picture of our own lives if we are buried in updates of Jennifer Aniston’s new hairdo?


Reflecting:

How do you highlight your values, and find meaning in your life? You may feel most in touch with your own and others spirits during meditation, or in a shared contemplative space, or even by engaging a friend or family member in deep conversation. It is all about reminding ourselves what is important to our well being so that we can prioritize what to make time for. Finding ways to be spiritual may help us figure out how to eliminate our stress, be present with nature, people, or our own thoughts. By allowing ourselves to be fully present we continue to strive towards our best selves. Try focusing on one thing fully, unitasking instead of multitasking. Reach out to those who may need to hear from you. Take comfort in the spaces around you. And allow the power of making time to change your outlook by allowing yourself the art of reflection. In other words: unplug and relax! You may find you learn more about the ways you do enjoy to spend your time then by losing all your time to updates which aren’t pertinent to your life and values. This week is national 'unplug' Shabbat. Join the challenge and take advantage of life before the cell phone. I unplug every week and find myself craving Shabbat every other day of the week. We live in a world where we are constantly accessible to work, school, and there is an expectation of an instant response. Imagine what making time for family and friends again would look like and how much your connections with others would strengthen.


From the Source:

Abraham Heshel, a famous Jewish philosopher argues in his famous book The Sabbath that Shabbat is a “sanctuary in time”. Meaning there is no specific physical place but rather for Jews the weekly gift of time allows us to find ourselves in a greater connected world, or Olam H’aba, the world to come. This past week the Torah portion Vayak'heil continues to talks about the creation of the mishkan/ or tabernacle. The tabernacle was a sanctuary which Jews built and prayed in after the exodus from Egypt. The past week’s piece of Torah talks about the elaborate process of engaging varying people’s skills, and finding extravagant fabrics to ordain their space with. Jewish law uses last week’s Torah portion to teach how to keep Shabbat by abstaining from the exact 39 activities that were done in the creation of the tabernacle. This is how we know the difference between work and rest, since work was used to build; our abstaining on Shabbat is equivocal with rest. While the tabernacle was constructed as a particularly holy place and adorned as such it now only remains in Jewish history. For Jews Shabbat is the holiest of spaces, or time. In this portion we not only see what a physical space should look like according to Jewish law but more importantly we are reminded of the covenant between G-d and the Jews to keep the Sabbath holy. Our time is precious and even if only for one day a week it should reflect our spiritual values so that we can feel fully present and whole. Think of how much more we could accomplish all week if we take the time to feel spiritually nourished!


Join me in The Challenge: http://www.sabbathmanifesto.org/unplug


A great book about Shabbat in today's technological challenges: The Sabbath World by: Judith Shulevitz http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/28/books/review/Goldstein-t.html

Monday, February 21, 2011

Ki Tisa (Exodus 30:11-34:35) -- Responding to disappointments.. ( A D'var from 2010)

Moses is perhaps the world’s first community organizer. Moses gathers his people, fights out against injustice, and manipulates G-d’s power for change. However, Moses, leader of the Jewish people is not immune to great disappointment. Moses’ reaction towards challenges in his life teaches the Jewish people great lessons about responding to disappointment. In Exodus Chapter 32, we see Moses struggle personally, as a leader of a great nation, and in his relationship with G-d. As Moses is atop Mt. Sinai receiving the Ten Commandments, his people are betraying his trust by building and worshiping a golden calf. Angered, G-d threatens to destroy the people in hopes of creating a superior society to continue his teachings. Moses, defends his community out of love and pleas with G-d: “Let not Your anger, O Lord, blaze forth against Your people, whom you delivered from the land of Egypt with great power and with a mighty hand” (Exodus, 32.11)

Upon descending the mountain, Moses sees the idolatry himself. Did the Israelites not have enough faith in Moses to wait for his return and delivery to them the words of G-d? “He (Moses) became enraged; and he hurled the tablets from his hands and shattered them at the foot of the mountain.” (Exodus, 32.19) Moses who earlier defended the people worshipping the calf to G-d saw his dream of leading G-d’s chosen people to the Promised Land shatter like the tablets upon witnessing this wicked act. Moses is disappointed in his people. He must rebuild the mutual faith and trust between himself and his community in order to perpetuate a great nation. In this moment Moses learns that being a leader is not only about his dreams for his community, but rather about how he works with his community together towards success.

What does this teach us for our own lives? How do we handle disappointments?
Like Moses, we often hold great expectations for ourselves, and for others. In fact, we are taught to do so. Throughout childhood we are asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” No child answers ‘I want to barely get by’. Instead, we dream of being doctors, lawyers and professional athletes. As time goes on, we are faced with challenges, and disappointments. Maybe we never grow tall enough to be a basketball player, or we realize we fear public speaking. We, like Moses, realize that when things don’t work out according to our ideals we must learn how to cope and work towards the best of our abilities. We turn our love of sports into a hobby instead of a profession. We relentlessly work on that which can be improved, always striving for our fullest selves.

Moses reevaluated the situation and returned with a renewed faith. Taking his disappointment in stride, he shifted his expectations. With his community at the forefront, Moses decides how they can move forward together. He picked up his dreams of leading a people to become a great nation and went back to G-d. This time G-d had Moses craft tablets, which G-d inscribed. “The replacement tablets, unlike the originals, will be a joint human-divine effort … reflect(ing) the perfection of G-d, the second set reflected the will of G-d and the ideals of G-d filtered through the limitations of human beings and the reality of human experience.” (Kushner, p. 43)

Like Moses, we can learn from our mistakes. We may not live a life without failure but we can choose how we respond to challenges. We can find determination within ourselves to reevaluate and renew what we had before it was broken. We may alter our dreams but keep the lessons of our disappointments with us. Through our response to disappointments, we can learn more about who we are and who we want to be. Our dreams change as we grow, and we determine if the dreams we once had align with our current goals and search for happiness. In times of disappointment, Moses was carried on by his devotion and love for his community and by G-d. Moses was able to forgive that which had happened, and realized limitations. He continued to persevere and create new dreams. We too can emulate Moses’s ability to move past challenges. We can rely on our community to carry us through the struggles we face within our lives and strengthen our ability to create new dreams.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

תרומה –תצוה (Exodus 25- 30:10) T'rumah and T'tzaveh-- And you shall be a blessing....


Trying out a new blog format, feedback welcome!


In our lives:
February is Jewish Disability Awareness month. Awareness itself is an interesting term to wrap your mind around, it makes me ask: how are we building “awareness” and about what specifically? Are we being ‘aware’ just by engaging in conversations about disabilities? How do we talk about disability, in what context, and what actions are we taking in our society to help those who may have different physical or mental challenges. I took this week to reflect on what it means to be able-bodied, the ways in which each person is a gift, and the varying individual tools each person has at his/her disposal. Many organizations in the Jewish world are doing work to think through how to integrate Jewish Disability Awareness month within their own communities. See links below.


When it comes to talking about disabilities I am always struck by the importance of language. Have you ever thought about the negative association formed with words used to describe several handicaps? The implications from these words such as handicap, disabled, wheelchair bound, amputee, retard, etc, are all negative. Language is important, especially when it affects how we view people. One way to combat negative connotations of language is to state the person first rather than the handicap. For example the man who is blind vs. the blind man. This shows that it is only one aspect of his identity rather than the defining factor. Given that every person is differently able, and we each have different strengths and weakness it seems unfair to label someone who only has one arm, or will never surpass a third grade reading level as disabled, why not label each person as unique? Idealistic, I know, but I still feel there is a better way to describe people then by pointing out their limitations first. Instead of the girl with brown hair it becomes the deaf girl. When we talk about disabilities there is a certain amount of sorrow or unspoken pity for those who can’t do certain tasks. Take a minute to think of how exceptional those who are disabled would feel if we took the time to ask questions about their challenges and how they can accomplish something instead of making our own assumptions about their capabilities.


Reflecting:
When I reflect on why it is important to have a month where we think about the disabled among us I think about the individual tools we each possess. It is naïve to think that we can do everything on our own; we must look to the support of others to help us iron out our own strengths and weaknesses. We each have gifts, and we each have a set of tools, it is figuring out how to use them well, and how to learn from others that is the real challenge. We are each only as able as we let ourselves be. There is so much that we can learn from one another if we are willing to both ask for and accept help. Those with physical or mental disabilities are just like everyone else with their own strengths and weaknesses. Think of those you admire who have amazing talents. Are even the extremely gifted able to do everything well? Or is there something in particular that they shine at, and other things which they struggle with? We must figure out how to use our resources to the best of our abilities including allowing others to support us in the ways where we may not be as ‘able’ as our friends, family or neighbor.

With everything we do we must look to those around us and be open to learning. When we think we can do everything on our own we lose the ability to be positively influenced and changed by others. I think we give up our own self growth when we assume we have no need for others help.


From the source:
The past two weeks Torah portions, T’rumah and T’tzaveh talk about how the Jews did and should build the tabernacle, or sanctuary. Building is something we must do together, when we build or create we use our own tools to make something spectacular. To me, building is similar to learning from each-other. One builds together the same way one learns from the teaching of others. We rely on the wisdom and abilities of those that came before us and the unique gifts that we can bring to the table. Whether you are brilliant, musically gifted, an artist, an economist, a pop-culture guru, etc. everyone has a passion and the ability to share; it’s what we learn from one another that builds our individual character. So the next time you see someone struggling don't pity them but rather offer your skills and look for what you can learn from them as well. I guarantee the only thing standing between you and those around you is fear and the inability to see past differences. Think positively and ask the person in your midst to share their gift with you.

"The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him (yidvenu libo)…And let them make me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them."

(Exodus, 25:1, 2, 8)

While the text deals with the specific building of a tabernacle, we also see pieces of how God asks for the gifts of the people to be shared with him. Showing us to not only be appreciative of the gifts that are offered to us, but also to be receptive of where these gifts come from. Our gifts are our passions and we must always remember how much we have both to offer and to learn from each person among us. By interacting together we can achieve holiness similar to that which comes from the building of the tabernacle.


As we continue to read the story of Exodus, I'm reminded that last week we celebrated both Moses’s birthday and date of death on Friday, the 7th of Adar. Moses, while a memorable Jewish leader in history was ‘slow of speech’ implying a lisp or speech impediment. Yet when Moses is remembered we speak of his strengths and accomplishments. In fact his brother Aaron often spoke on his behalf, but it was Moses who was the visionary and whom God choose to lead the Jewish people on their journey. Let us not forget the skills we can share with the world and the ways in which we can be open to the teachings of those among us whether able-bodied or disabled.


And you shall be a blessing.....

Debbie Friedman’s lyrics:

L'chi lach, to a land that I will show you

Leich l'cha, to a place you do not know
L'chi lach, on your journey I will bless you
And you shall be a blessing
L'chi lach, and I shall make your name great
Leich l'cha, and all shall praise your name
L'chi lach, to the place that I will show you


Union for Reform Judaism Jewish Disability Awareness Month related blogposts
North American Federation for Temple Youth JDAM Resources
Religious Action Center engages with JDAM
Gateways Jewish education for children with disabilities

Follow #JDAM on twitter

Monday, January 31, 2011

משׁפטים– Parshat Mishpatim (Exodus 21:1-24:18); Embracing the needy, the enemy and strangers among us.

The Text:

At this point in Torah, in the telling of the Jewish Exodus journey, the land of Egypt has been left behind, and the Jews have received the Ten Commandments.[1] Last week’s torah portion, Parashat Mishpatim, goes on to list numerous laws that will govern the Jewish people. More specifically, through these laws, Jews are taught how to act towards issues regarding slavery, thievery, the needy, owning and borrowing livestock, bestiality, sorcery, crop sharing, and many more. We are shown the ancient laws of how to treat the enemy, the needy, and the stranger. Within Mishpatim it is stated, “You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 22:20) In many ways these laws seem to be stated to create order, and ensure that Jews are not taking advantage of the other, or the other's property including land and animals. If the only portion of Torah you were to ever read was parashat Mishpatim you may feel as if you were reading a series of legal documents concerning stealing your neighbor’s oxen. In many ways these series of laws seem inapplicable to the current way we live, but hidden among these laws are presently valuable ethical guidelines for treating the ‘vulnerable’ among us.

The Implication:

Who is not a stranger among us? Do we really live in a society where there is a clear norm, and a clear defiance of the norm we have created? What is normal, and who qualifies? I feel in so many ways individuals are constantly redefining what normal is because we feel like we just don’t fit in among everyone. Instead shouldn’t we question if ‘normal’ exists? Therefore aren’t we all strangers within any new situation? At one point we were the new comer to a community, family, or group of friends. In any new situation, we may each be a stranger in a strange land. When we venture somewhere new we want to be embraced and treated with respect and dignity, meaning we must remember to act similarly towards others entering a land we may already be familiar with as well. “You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 22:20) We must remember to not outcast the newcomer, since historically we ourselves were outcast for being ‘the other’. To me, the concept of being a stranger in a strange land is applicable to so many groups of people in both our local and global world. Some ‘strangers’ within the United States include: immigrants in their fight for citizenship; the glbt[2] community in their quest for gay rights; differently-abled people advocating towards inclusive disability rights; feminist women eradicating gender inequalities; black Americans struggle towards racial equality; and the fight of the American muslim community against prejudice due to post September 11th racial profiling. All spend countless time in their struggle overcoming unequal treatment in the search to be treated ‘normally’. Where do we learn how to treat our neighbors? What acts as our ethical and moral guide when we come into contact with challenges in our lives that cause us to take action in either a positive or negative way?

I currently work in the world’s largest gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender inclusive synagogue, CBST (Congregation Beit Simchat Torah). Recently a man called the office to question both our mission and where in the torah I personally felt that it was ok to be gay. At first I was unaware where the nature of his questions was coming from. However, his hatred quickly became clear to me as he shouted, “being gay is an abomination.” The most upsetting part of the conversation was trying to comprehend where this fellow Jew had learned his deep seeded hate towards the ‘strangers in his midst’. I’m reminded that Judaism teaches us that each individual is created in G-d’s image “betzelem eloheim”, and parshat Mishpatim teaches us by Jewish law the opposite of this man’s oppression, we are taught rather to treat the needy, enemy and stranger with indistinguishable equality to how we treat ourselves. As a Jew, I’m astounded as to where in the torah he found laws condemning the glbt community. The Jewish laws found in Exodus protect the stranger, enemy, and needy among us. Equally, whether we are in agreement or opposition by Jewish law we shall not treat those different from ourselves with anything other than compassion, and justice. And while I strongly disagree with the position my fellow Jew takes towards strangers among him, I am taught by torah to treat my enemy just as fairly as my neighbor, the stranger, and the needy. If only we all stuck to the golden rule: treat others as you want to be treated.

The Application:

In concept we know to act justly towards our fellow strangers, since we were once strangers, but what are the concrete things we can do in our lives to help the vulnerable and needy among us? Rabbi Jill Jacobs in her book There Shall Be No Needy: Pursuing Social Justice through Jewish Law and Tradition writes about the poor among us. Rabbi Jacobs defines poverty and the ways in which humanity act towards economic justice in the United States. Her powerful book shows how social justice is found within the torah, and how it already is applicable to our daily lives and social justice struggles. Rabbi Jacobs illustrates that each individual is a manifestation of G-d, therefore showing that by treating the needy among us repulsively, we are in turn treating G-d poorly. The idea is that G-d made each individual purposefully; we must not view the stranger as different from ourselves, neither should we view the needy as differently. While the poor may rely on other’s money and food to survive, we may each be outcast of some group based on our own ‘abnormalities’ based on race, religion, gender, class, and sexual identity. Parashat Mishpatim acts as a guide of how to treat others, for we were all once the needy, the enemy, and the stranger. There is no group of people who was not as some point the target of persecution.

Maybe the next time you see the needy among you don’t think of how you’re different but rather think of how you yourself could easily be among the needy, and in turn think of how to help rather than further isolate the stranger. Picture yourself in a land foreign to the one you know. We may not yet know the new territories we will encounter in our lives but we can remember to always respect and treat each other fairly whether it be the needy, enemy, stranger of friend among us.

Rabbi Jill Jacob's Vision.


[1] See last week’s post about commanded to rest.

[2] An acronym for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender.