In Defense of Chametz

 The Book of Vayikra opens with the requirements and restrictions associated with the various korbanot. When it comes to flour offerings, the Torah is adamant that the “bread offerings” may not be chametz (2:11): כׇּל־הַמִּנְחָה אֲשֶׁר תַּקְרִיבוּ לַיהֹוָה לֹא תֵעָשֶׂה חָמֵץ- No grain offering that you offer to Hashem shall be made with leaven”. The Talmud Brachot Rabbi Alexandri equates chametz with the yetzer harah, our evil inclination. The Baalei Mussar took note of the physical characteristics of chametz and related them to negative character traits. For example, dough will only begin to rise after a period of time. This corresponds to the trait of sloth and laziness. Similarly, with the help of yeast, dough rises more robustly; a phenomenon that the Mussar Movement related to the attribute of ego and haughtiness. Anthropologists and food historians add to the chametz-bashing, albeit indirectly. The origins of yeast, used for both bread and beer, can be traced to ancient Egypt before Yaakov and his family arrived. Chametz can now be representative of Egyptian culture, and our avoidance of leaven can be seen as a rejection of Egyptian culture as we celebrate our redemption from Egypt. But if chametz is so bad, then why do we eat it all year? Throughout history bread has been a staple of nourishment. In addition, it is elevated as an offering to Hashem. The Sefirat HaOmer count culminates with Shavuot, at which time two beautiful loaves of fresh fluffy bread were offered in the Beit Hamikdash. If chametz is so wrong, how can it be the central offering on the holiday of Shavuot? The answer is that Chametz is not really evil. During the course of our lives bread, as a food and as a symbol, is appropriate and necessary. It is only on the Mizbeiach and on Pesach that chametz is inappropriate. Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Berlin, the Netziv, writes, “Chametz is a human invention used to modify through ingenuity the world that God created.” An encounter with Hashem at the Mizbeaich is not the setting to demonstrate human ingenuity. Rather, bringing a Korban is a time to reflect on Hashem as Creator and the Cause of all human ingenuity. Chametz represents our ability to use our intellect to control our surroundings. While this is an appropriate and necessary perspective on life, it does not belong on the altar as we submit before Hashem through the offering of a flour korban. Chametz is also inappropriate on Pesach because during the Exodus we were passive, as Hashem tells Moshe at the Splitting of the Sea: “Hashem will fight for you, and you shall remain silent.” Our celebration of Pesach focuses on what Hashem did for us. Matzah, the natural product of bread and water without any human ingenuity, is aptly suited to be that national symbol. It turns out that eating chametz the rest of the year is not a concession to our weak and sinful natures. As we will say in less than two weeks at the Seder in Mah Nishtana “Shebechol Haleilot Anu Ochlim Chametz U’Matzah”. During the rest of the year I am a chametz eater, and I am proud to say that I like it. Chametz represents the crucial mandate that we have to be creative and to improve the world. Chametz reminds us that we must appreciate that goals can only be accomplished through human ingenuity and hard work. On Pesach however we continue and state, “Halayla Hazeh Kulo Matzah”. Chametz conveys crucial lessons, but on Pesach we need to focus on different lessons. On Pesach we remember that our creativity and our accomplishments must ultimately be attributed to Hashem. It is easy to extol the virtues of matzah by critiquing chametz and associating it with negative symbolism. But by understanding how chametz plays a vital role in our lives the rest of the year, we can better appreciate the unique and exalted lessons of matzah on the Mizbeaich and on Pesach.  

Connect – Grow – Together on Shabbat

 Moshe must have gathered Bnai Yisrael numerous times throughout their journey in the Midbar in order to teach them Torah and Mitzvot. Yet it is only at the beginning of Parshat Vayakhel that the Torah specifically tells us וַיַּקְהֵ֣ל משֶׁ֗ה אֶת־כָּל־עֲדַ֛ת בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל “Moshe gathered the entire congregation of Israelites”. While Parshat Vayakhel primarily discusses the Mishkan construction project, the Parsha begins with a couple of pesukim about Shabbat: “Six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have sanctity, a day of complete rest to the Lord….” Rashi suggests that this Shabbat reference serves to set parameters for the construction of the Mishkan. Moshe here is informing the Jews that as important as building the Tabernacle may be, nevertheless its construction may not be performed on Shabbat. Others suggest a common theme that connects Shabbat and the Mishkan. Just as the Mishkan is a holy and special space, so too Shabbat is meant to be a holy and special time. Yalkut Shimoni (408) explains the connection between gathering the people and teaching about Shabbat: “The Holy One, blessed be He said: ‘Make for yourself great assemblies, and expound before them publicly the laws of Shabbat, so that future generations will learn from you to gather assemblies each and every Shabbat, and to enter the study halls to teach and instruct Israel in words of Torah; what is forbidden and what is permitted, so that My great Name will be praised among My children.” The Midrash understands this Vayakhel as the origin of the practice of public Torah teaching and communal gatherings on Shabbat. While some people may not not fans of the Shabbat morning Drasha / sermon and subscribe to the mantra that “there’s no sermon like no sermon”, this Midrash teaches us that public Torah study, especially in large audiences, is integral to the weekly Shabbat experience. It is the spirit of this Midrash that our shul offers many learning opportunities on Shabbat. From weekly and monthly shiurim, to Guest Speakers and Scholars in Residence, our most robust and varied Torah offerings are on Shabbat. I encourage you to take advantage of the Torah learning opportunities offered at shul, all week long and especially on Shabbat. At the very least I urge you to pay attention and take to heart the weekly Dvar Torah that is presented at each Shabbat morning minyan by one of the YIH Rabbis. When you listen to the Shabbat morning Dvar Torah (and discuss it at your Shabbat table) you are engaged in an endeavor of Biblical proportions: you are recreating the experience described at the beginning of Parshat Vayakhel. I will conclude with a timely Dvar Halacha related to Shabbat. Recently the City of Hollywood completed construction of a splash pad at the Mara Berman Giulianti Park. It is a wonderful addition to our Emerald Hills neighborhood, and I am sure that children will enjoy using it especially as the weather gets warmer. Although there is now a splash pad at “The Shabbos Park”, using the splash pad is not an appropriate Shabbos activity. In addition to the many actual and potential halachic problems involved, water activities are not consistent with the uniqueness, spirit and sanctity of Shabbat. Some parents have raised concerns about the presence of the splash pad at the Shabbos Park, but I believe that it can be viewed as a true gift - 7 days a week. Six days a week our children and grandchildren have another option for play and enjoyment at the park. And on Shabbat, by enjoying the park in other ways but avoiding the splash pad we will have the opportunity to teach our children a valuable lesson. Through our words and through our actions (what we do and what we avoid doing) we can educate and model to our children how special, unique and holy Shabbat is to us.

Bad Masks and Good Masks

 Parshat Ki Tisa contains the episode of the golden calf. The Torah refers to the golden calf as (32:4) “egel masecha”. The Stone Chumash translates this as “a molten calf”.  “Masecha” could be a type of metal, and if so, the “Egel Masecha” would be a metal calf, or more precisely, a calf that had undergone the process of melting, since it was made out of many pieces of gold that needed to be fused together. Masecha” can also be interpreted as deriving from the word “Masach”, an object used to conceal other objects. This is also the meaning of the “Masecha” we wear on Purim, which covers the face. This is not the only appearance of a mask in our Parsha. After Moshe prays and Hashem forgives the Jews for the golden calf, Moshe is called upon to receive the second set of tablets. When Moshe comes down from the mountain, the Torah describes how Moshe’s face glowed as a result of his exposure to an intense Divine manifestation. Moshe resorted to wearing a “masveh” (34:33) which is a veil or mask. In two episodes in Ki Tisa Moshe ascends Mt Sinai to receive luchot from Hashem. In both cases, this act causes the need for a mask of some sort. The mask of the golden calf is one of the greatest mistakes in Jewish history. The mask that Moshe wears after descending with the second luchot is viewed as having a positive purpose. How do we understand the vast difference between these two masks? Our world is full of masks, hiding the perception of God’s role in our lives. The Hebrew word for world “Olam” is related to the word “hidden” (“he’elem”) because nature is a force that masks God’s handiwork. Political history is another mask that obstructs our appreciation for God’s role in unfolding events. We will celebrate Purim in less than a month. The story of Purim (like the story of the 6 Day War) can be read as a fascinating tale of political (or military) intrigue. But really those events are masking the Prime Cause of it all- Hashem. Idolatry can also be understood as a mask. It hides inconvenient truths, such as reward and punishment, and the need to submit to a Higher Being. This type of mask leads to destruction. Sometimes a mask hides the truth. But sometimes a mask is needed to allow the truth to come forth. Rav Saadiah Gaon explains that the masveh was intended to make disputants less afraid to approach Moshe for assistance. Others suggest that Moshe wore the masveh as a sign of modesty. In effect the masveh allowed Moshe to express his true self, and not hide in any way. There’s a difference of opinion as to when exactly Moshe wore the masveh. Everyone agrees that Moshe did not wear it when he was communicating with Hashem. Everyone also agrees that he did wear the masveh when he was in the Israelite camp not engaged in teaching Torah. There’s a difference of opinion whether Moshe wore the mask when he was teaching Torah to the people. It would seem based on the pesukim at the end of Ki Tisa that Moshe would not wear the masveh while he was engaged in teaching Torah. Rabbi Akiva Eiger, however, suggests that Moshe in fact wore the masveh even while teaching Torah to the people. Rabbi Eiger explains that Moshe wore the masveh to hide his humility. As teacher and prophet, Moshe had to “hide” this innate quality of humility, for the benefit of his role as leader. When a mask is used to obscure God’s role in our lives, then it’s a bad mask. When a mask is used to bring out our true selves or to hide some of our innate qualities that interfere with maximizing our potential, then it’s a good mask. As we put away our Purim costumes, and read Parshat Ki Tisa, let’s be on guard to avoid the bad masks and find ways to utilize the good masks.

Jewish Pride is Golden

 Hockey star Jack Hughes scored the game-winning goal on Sunday to clinch a gold medal for the United States men’s hockey team. The win broke a 46-year Olympic drought for Team USA, which hadn’t taken gold since the famous “Miracle on Ice” team that upset the Soviet Union on its way to gold in 1980.

Jack’s brother, and was also named the best defender in the Olympic tournament by the International Ice Hockey Federation after scoring an overtime goal to send the US team to the semifinals. 

The Hughes family, which also includes brothers Quinn Hughes, a defender for the Minnesota Wild, and youngest brother Luke, who also plays for the Devils, has long been lauded as a Jewish hockey dynasty. They are the first American family to have three siblings picked in the first round of the NHL draft, and Jack was the first Jewish player to go number one overall.

Jack, who had a Bar Mitzvah, has said that his family celebrated Pesach and Chanukah (though he did admit that he’d get better gifts on Christmas). His mother, Ellen Weinberg-Hughes, has a Jewish father and is proud of her Jewish lineage. She was also a hockey player, and In recognition of her accomplishments Weinberg-Hughes is a member of the International Jewish Sports Hall of Fame. 

Jack Hughes’ golden goal ushered in a burst of Jewish pride on social media, with one user calling it “the greatest Jewish sports moment of all time”. The Hockey News tweeted that Hughes was “the first player in hockey history to have a Bar Mitzvah and a Golden Goal! Pretty cool!” 

Maybe it’s the punster in me, or maybe my sound perception is not what it once was, but upon hearing the name of the golden goal scorer I immediately thought of J'Accuse, an open letter written by Émile Zola in response to the Dreyfus Affair. It was published on January 13, 1898 in the newspaper L'Aurore. Zola addressed the president of France and accused his government of antisemitism and the unlawful jailing of Alfred Dreyfus. Dreyfus was a French Army General Staff officer who was sentenced to life in prison for espionage. Zola pointed out judicial errors and lack of serious evidence in Dreyfus' trial. The letter was printed on the front page of the newspaper, and caused a stir in France and abroad. Zola was prosecuted for libel and found guilty on February 23, 1898. To avoid imprisonment, Zola fled to England, only returning home in June 1899. Emile Zola died on September 29, 1902, from carbon monoxide poisoning caused by a blocked chimney. His death was officially ruled an accident. But Zola was threatened by anti-Semites who did not appreciate his defense of Dreyfus, and today it is widely suspected that he was murdered. If that indeed was the case then Zola was murdered for defending a Jew who was falsely accused and for bringing attention to the prevalence of Jew hatred throughout France at the end of the 19^th century.

Perhaps the association between Jack Hughes and j’Accuse is more than a pun. There is a debate raging today about the effectiveness of Jewish philanthropies investing in “combatting antisemitism.” Some feel that the effort is critical for the safety of the American Jewish community. Others argue that antisemitism is the world’s oldest hatred and it will never be eradicated. Some have suggested that all of the money currently spent on fighting antisemitism should be invested instead in cultivating Jewish literacy and promoting Jewish pride. I think we need to take a nuanced approach. We must follow in Emile Zola’s example and call out antisemitism and work to make Jew hatred unacceptable to express nor act on in polite company. But “not being hated” cannot be the basis of Jewish identity. (Neither can celebrating the accomplishments of a hockey player who happens to also identify as Jewish). The American Jewish community will earn a gold medal in Jewish identity by cultivating Jewish joy, Jewish knowledge, and Jewish pride. 

Volunteerism Based on Commitment - Dedicated in memory of Zelig Avraham ben Nochum

 The word “Terumah” appears three times in the first three pesukim of our Parsha. Rashi quotes a tradition recorded in the Talmud (Megila 29b) that the three times Terumah is used correspond to three collections that were undertaken for the Mishkan’s building and operation. The first collection was a mandatory half shekel per adult that went to cover the cost of the adanim, the bases of the beams. The second collection was also compulsory and also a half shekel per person to cover the costs of the communal sacrifices. The third collection was voluntary. People could give what they wanted and as much as they wanted from the list of materials needed for the Mishkan’s construction.The Maharal asks: If there were three collections, why does the Torah open Terumah with the third, voluntary type of collection? The Parsha begins with a call for donations that were collected “from people who volunteered and whose hearts motivated them”. What about the mandatory collections? Rashi and the Talmud mention the obligatory contributions first. Why does the Torah begin with the voluntary Terumah? The Maharal answers that although not explicitly mentioned here, the compulsory Terumahs must precede the voluntary collection. Had the first collection been on a voluntary basis, the Jews would have generously answered the call. In Parshat Vayakhel we learn that when it came to discretionary giving the people were so generous that Moshe had to tell them to stop giving. However had that voluntary giving preceded the obligatory giving there would have been a key component missing in the construction of the Mishkan: Obligation. Submission. Commitment. A generous spirit, nedivut lev, is a wonderful trait to possess. However, it must be predicated on a sense of commitment. This idea that the first donations to the Mishkan were obligatory and used to build the Mishkan’s foundational support gives us an opportunity to appreciate commitments; where to make them, how to make them and how to keep them. Our spirit of volunteerism should flow from, not precede nor compete with, our sense of commitment. Utilizing the Maharal’s approach can help us understand what can be a confusing series of events at Mt. Sinai. The Midrash teaches that God offered the Torah to other nations, and they were not interested. Then God offered the Torah to the Jews who immediately replied “we will do and we will listen”. Another Midrash tells us that at the time of Matan Torah, God held the mountain over the people’s heads, and “forced” the Jews to accept the Torah. But in the Chumash first we read the pasuk that alludes to coercion (in Yitro 19:17), and only later do we come across the pasuk of “Naaseh V’Nishma” (in Mishpatim 24:7) that hints at the Jews’ voluntary acceptance of the Torah. The lesson is clear. While voluntary acts of kindness and philanthropy are often given the most attention, we believe that service and benevolence must emanate from a sense of responsibility and commitment. The Maharal’s idea resonated with me this week as our community mourns the passing of our esteemed member Dr. Stuart Courtney. Stuart was a past President of our shul, chair of the Decorum Committee and organized the ushers in the Sanctuary on the Yomim Noraim for decades. It is appropriate for us to dedicate our efforts at Kedushat Beit Haknesset, and especially our efforts at more decorum and less talking in shul, to Stuart’s memory. Among many accolades and achievements Stuart was an accomplished doctor and an exemplary husband, father and grandfather. He had a great sense of humor. On this Parshat Terumah I want to especially pay tribute to Stuart’s nedivut lev. Everyone who knew Stuart agreed that “he was such a nice guy”. His kindness was genuine and obvious to all because it modeled the nedivut lev of the Mishkan Building Campaign: Kindness and generosity based on a foundation of responsibility and commitment: to others, to Hashem, and to our values

Jews and Money

 This Shabbat Mevorchim Adar we read Parshat Shkalim for maftir. Shkalim is the first of the four special parshiyot that take us from Adar through Pesach. Rav Moshe Avigdor Amiel points out that, with the exception of a Jewish leap year, Parshat Shkalim is always paired with Parshat Mishpatim, because in Mishpatim we learn laws related to finances and the economy, and Parshat Shkalim provides the Jewish view of money and property.

The question of how to relate to possessions and wealth is an age-old one, dating back to the creation of humanity when brothers Kayin and Hevel fought about possessions. Each brother claimed the entire planet as theirs. Kayin chose an approach that has been taken many times since: he killed his brother over money.

Rav Amiel suggests that there are two basic philosophies when it comes to the distribution of wealth. One philosophy states that a person is destined to be either rich or poor, and there is no reason to intervene in changing the status of the haves or the have-nots. Others reject this approach and believe that everyone should be provided with the same exact amount of resources, sometimes referred to as socialism.

According to Rav Amiel, Parshat Shkalim teaches the nuanced approach of the Torah when it comes to wealth in society: הֶֽעָשִׁ֣יר לֹֽא־יַרְבֶּ֗ה וְהַדַּל֙ לֹ֣א יַמְעִ֔יט “The rich shall give no more, and the poor shall give no less”. The Torah acknowledges a world in which some people have more resources than others. However, it insists that there be limits to wealth disparity. If there are safeguards to ensure that the poor do not become too impoverished, then society reflects an appropriate distribution of wealth, and those with more means would not be considered “too much”.

Rav Amiel notes that the Torah provides concrete rules to help bring about this outcome: 1) the equal distribution of land portions in Israel among the tribes; 2) Yovel, the 50th year when ancestral lands are returned to their original family owners; 3) the prohibition of charging interest; and 4) Maaser Ani, a charity tithe given to the poor in Years 3 and 6 of the seven year agricultural cycle.

The first rule creates an economic system in which everyone starts with equal opportunity. The second ensures that one financial mistake does not doom a family to generational poverty. Prohibiting interest protects those in vulnerable situations from sinking further into debt. If society would religiously observe these laws, there would be far fewer poor people, and Maaser Ani would assist the unlucky few who still require help.

The Mishnah in Pirkei Avot 5:13 teaches: “There are four types of character in human beings: One that says, ‘mine is mine, and yours is yours’; ‘mine is yours and yours is mine’; ‘mine is yours and yours is yours’; ‘mine is mine, and yours is mine’.” Why describe these as four types of human beings rather than four attitudes toward wealth? Rav Amiel explains that human nature, character, and identity are closely tied to our relationship with wealth. It is no coincidence that the expression “a self-made man” refers to one’s financial acumen.

The Torah does not believe that money is the root of all evil, nor does it espouse the Prosperity Gospel, that wealth is the only blessing that matters. Parshat Shkalim lays the foundation for our attitude toward wealth. Wealth is a blessing to which everyone should have access, and those more blessed are obligated not only to give of their resources but to ensure that access to the blessing of wealth remains available to as many people as possible.

Be Like Moshe: Learn How to Delegate

 This week, Business Insider featured a profile about Bracha Cohen, a partner at Goldman Sachs and an Orthodox mother of 7. Cohen told Business Insider that knowing how to delegate responsibility is crucial to excelling in her job and at life. "Does this need to be me directly, or is this the kind of thing that a delegate could do just as well, and it won't compromise the outcome?" Cohen's approach to delegating plays out both at work and at home. Some responsibilities, Cohen said, are "truly non-discretionary," but others can be passed on either to colleagues at work or family members at home. “I learned to be very organized and to delegate at home. I decide what activities I consider to be high value, and I make sure to do those myself. So, for example, I would prioritize being the one to take my kids to the bus and be home to put them to bed but hire help to do the laundry. It’s also important to me that I create structure for my family, so they know what the routine is and when I’ll be with them on a consistent basis. Even now that my children are older, I carve out uninterrupted time to talk with them and advise on important decisions in their lives, and do some of this during my drive to and from work. Prioritizing my time and creating structure are obviously also useful skills at work.” As it relates to juggling work and family responsibilities Cohen suggests “"Allocate your time and energy intentionally. That's the key." The priorities that on their face might seem to clash with Cohen's job, like raising many children and observing Shabbat, have actually taught her skills crucial to her success: time management and long-term planning, to name a couple. According to a BBC article delegating is one of the more challenging aspects of leadership. It actually gets harder to do the higher someone goes up the corporate ladder, said Laura Lunsford, an associate professor of psychology at the University of Arizona. It’s a struggle for two reasons. Most people know that work needs to get done, but they can’t properly articulate what the end result should look like, so it’s just easier to do it themselves. Executives also have difficulty giving up control, especially if they’ll get blamed when something goes wrong. Here are a few more reasons why delegating can be difficult. 1) If you are a perfectionist or take great pride in doing your job really well, you may find it difficult to believe that anyone else can match your standards. 2) You may fear that someone else could take over aspects of your role and do them even better. No one likes to feel under threat in this way. 3) You may feel that delegating takes too much time: you’ll have done the work twice over before you can even begin to explain the ins and outs of it. If you’re very busy it can be impossible to even think about delegating in a logical way. You just put your head down and get on with things. 4) You may not have the confidence to delegate even if you want to. What tasks should you delegate? How should you go about it? How much guidance should you give? What if the person resists taking on the work?  If you have a hard time delegating- don’t worry, you are in good company. Moshe Rabbeinu also had a difficult time delegating. At the beginning of the Parsha we read how Yitro saw his son in law busy all day with the nation’s questions and problems. Yitro immediately told Moshe that the system was not sustainable. He advised Moshe to appoint a team of people who could serve as guides and teachers - and to whom Moshe could delegate. Perhaps it was Moshe’s humility that made it difficult for him to see what was so obvious to Yitro. Perhaps it was one of the other impediments to delegating that are described above. Whatever the root cause may have been, the Torah emphasizes in our Parsha the importance of utilizing our strengths, maximizing our time, and knowing when to delegate.