Tolodot: The Important of Isaac's Story. The Importance of our Story. Delivered, 11/22/14

This past week, our Rabbi Emeritus, in his eulogy honoring the life of Ruth Lederer, invited us to consider which phrases stand out as most important in Torah.   As he noted, there are quite a few good choices, some that might come immediately to mind are: the Shema, a text which tradition asks us to keep at hand and recite twice daily.  We certainly recite it on Shabbat; Bereshit bara Elohim, those first words of Torah which started it all; Anochi Adonai Elohecha, God’s identifying Godself at Sinai and those famous Ten Utterances that followed.  Rabbi Buchdahl had other examples of choice words from Torah, but his point, and what he so beautifully (and so appropriate to Ruth) expressed was that rarely, if ever, do we think of  יצחק תלדות אלה (Eleh toldot Yitzchak), “these are the generations of Isaac” as one of the more memorable sound bytes of Torah.  Perhaps, we should.

Eleh toldot Yitzchak.  Literally, “these are the generations, or this is the line, of Isaac.”  But, where are the generations?  Seriously, let’s look at the text we are about to read (Gen. 27:19ff): “These are the generations, or this is the line, of Isaac son of Abraham.  Abraham begot Isaac.”  That’s it.  No other begots.  The text immediately proceeds not to a genealogical list descending from Isaac but rather to tell us that, “When Isaac was 40 years old he married Rebecca.” From that point, the focus is on Rebecca’s pregnancy and the birth of their twins.

 So, where are the generations?  Arguably, after such an announcement, “These are the generations…,” we would expect a genealogical list, specifically in this case, a list of those who descend from Isaac.  But, instead, we are only told about Abraham’s lineage:  Abraham begot Isaac.  A pointed redundancy since Isaac has just been identified as Abe’s son.  In the paragraph preceding the start of this week’s portion, we are reminded of the other half of Abraham’s line, that of Ishmael, but there we are given a list of Ishmael’s descendants.  So, where is Isaac’s list?  Why does Torah not list Isaac progeny, Jacob and Esau, similarly? 

One way to understand the text is to imagine that somewhere in the editing process of the Torah, Isaac’s short genealogical list got cut out.   More likely, the word toldot had a more nuanced meaning in its ancient rendering.  Instead of “these are the generations, or this is the line of,” a more appropriate translation of eleh toldot here, and one suggested by our creation story told earlier in Genesis (“Eleh toldot hashamayim v’haaretz b’hibaram” – this is the story of the creation of heaven and earth [Gen 2:4]), so too,  Eleh toldot Yitzchak,  “this is the story of Isaac.”

This is the story of Isaac.  Now this makes much more sense.  The text highlights that particularly in Isaac’s case, he is more than just a passing link in the chain of tradition.

Though the text will move quickly on to discuss Isaac’s sons, Eleh toldot Yitzchak, reminds us that he is central to their story.  We don’t often think much about Isaac.  He easily gets lost, or as I characterized a couple of weeks ago when discussing the Akeidah, he gets silenced not only by Torah, but by the arc of Jewish literary tradition.  Even the midrash elaborates on his father and his kids far more than on him.  The Midrash reminds us that his father smashes idols and exemplifies devotion to a singular God.  Jacob is characterized as eager to leave the womb when his mother passes a place of study whereas Esau pushes to get out when passing a pagan temple.  Another midrash regarding Isaac’s sons notes that the Hebrew word for twins used here in the text is missing its silent letters, a grammatical form labeled “defective,” to indicate that only one of the twins is righteous.

There is plenty our tradition says about Isaac’s dad and his boys born to him and his wife Rebecca.  But, what about Isaac?  Isaac remains quiet, yet Eleh toldot Yitzchak his presence is vital not only to his immediate family but to the line of the Israelite nation.  Isaac is presented as the one who rebuilds and preserves.  We read this week of his re-digging the wells that his father dug that had then been filled in by the Phillistines. And, he renames them, not with his own names but with the same names his father used.  This effort is arguably one of the most important insights we have into Isaac’s character.  He isn’t an innovator, but he is a consolidator who enshrines tradition and ensures the continuity of his father’s legacy.  He is clearly characterized here as the vital link of tradition between Abraham, his father, and Jacob, his son.

  Eleh toldot Yitzchak, Isaac’s story is important.  Even though the author didn’t give Isaac much of a voice, even much of a characterization, eleh toldot Yitachak, he understood the value of Isaac’s life and underscores Isaac’s contribution to Israelite history, to our history.

Isaac is so often painted as the unsuspecting victim.  Not only in the Akeidah, but here in this week’s portion when his sons, with their mom’s help, trick their father out of his blessing for the first born.  Perhaps, Isaac isn’t so unsuspecting.  An insightful midrash, one I believe included in the Plaut commentary, asks us to imagine Isaac as knowing exactly who his sons are by their choice of words during that famous incident of trickery.  He doesn’t need to see them.  He knows his children.  He knows how they speak, and he recognizes Jacob by his immediate reference to God.  Why doesn’t he speak up and put a stop to the game?  Perhaps because Isaac understands his own story more than we generally give him credit for.  He understands that his role is that of preserving this covenant laid out by God.  A God that he knows Jacob recognizes and Esau ignores.  Isn’t it better for him to let Esau believe he was tricked out of blessing then for him to know it was never intended for him in the first place? That he wasn’t God’s chosen one?  Indeed, a difficult question for any parent to answer.  

Eleh toldot Yitzchak.  This indeed is the story of Isaac.

Where is Isaac? Delivered Shabbat Vayeira, 11/8/2014

Isaac.  Where is Isaac?

            Most often, when we read and study this week’s Torah portion, Vayera, our focus falls squarely on Isaac’s father, Abraham.  Abraham’s eager hospitality; his (and Sarah’s) news of impending parenthood in old age; Abraham’s willingness to argue with God over the fate of the residents of Sodom and Gemorrah; and finally, at the end of the portion, Abraham’s being called up to sacrifice his beloved son.  Despite Isaac being a central figure in the narrative of the Akeidah, the story of the binding of Isaac, he is silenced by the text.

            Soon, the focus will be almost entirely on Isaac’s sons, Jacob and Esau.  Their story, too, we know well.  We know how they competed for blessing and about their separate journeys.  We know even more about Jacob: his work, his love affairs, his brood of sons, his struggle with God.   But, where is Isaac?   What do we know of Isaac?

            Born to elderly parents, we know little about his life other than his brother was sent away, and that he was, without being given an option, bound up to be offered as a sacrifice on Mount Moriah by his father.  He isn’t treated much better by his own son who, at his mother’s bequest, tricks Isaac into giving him his brother’s blessing.   Isaac is, for the most part, through all of this a silent character.  He isn’t even deemed capable of finding his own wife.  A servant is brought in to the narrative for that task.    Our Rabbinic tradition, too, isn’t so kind to Isaac, either.  For sure, his place among the patriarchs is assured by tradition, and he is viewed as a critical link between the generations.  But Maimonides' opinion is reflective of much of the literature.  He notes that “there would seem to be no benefit nor any great honor to Isaac.”  He didn’t do anything, Maimonides argues, he added nothing innovative or of value.

            With all due respect to the RAMBAM, I’d argue differently.  I’d argue we’ve let Isaac down.  What does Isaac have to say after his father kills the ram and finally unties the binds that held him into place?  Abraham offers the ram in place of his son Isaac, God blesses Abraham for his steadfast faith with a promise that his descendants will be as numerous as the stars above and the sands of the shore. God promises Abraham that all the nations of the earth shall be blessed through him; and then, the text reads: “Abraham returned to his servants; they got up and traveled to and settled in Be’er Sheva.” 

The text begs the question, where is Isaac, and we have failed to provide a compelling answer.  The biblical authors, our Rabbinic sages, and we too, have left him silent.  His story could have been fleshed out in a manner that allowed Isaac to be strengthened by the capacity to survive this traumatic event.  Instead, we’ve ignored his voice.  We do not hear from Isaac again until the end of two eventful chapters, when he reappears to witness his future wife, Rebecca, approaching on a camel.  The Midrash imagines Isaac as having great concern for his mother’s well being, but where is the concern for Isaac himself? 

There is great opportunity to fill in Isaac’s story, to give him a legacy from which we can draw inspiration.  He is a figure that survives trauma and disappointment.   He is a character that deserves more of a voice than he is given by our tradition.  As we read Vayeira this Shabbat, let us be moved to consider what Isaac would have said in response to God’s impossible request.  To his father’s dutiful (yet, thoughtless) willingness to comply.     Perhaps if we can imagine Isaac’s response, his coping strategies, how he moved forward from this tragic event, then perhaps, we will be less likely to silence those who experience trauma in our world.  Perhaps, we will be less likely to ignore their voice.

A Reform Response to The Shabbos Project, Shabbat Noach 5775, Oct. 25, 2014

We need better marketing.  The Reform movement that is.  Well, Temple Emanuel, too, but this Shabbat, I’m concerned about the broader umbrella of Progresive Judaism.

You may have heard that Jews throughout the world have been called together this Shabbat (Shabbat Noach) to participate in The Shabbos Project.  This Shabbos Project is being marketed as an “international movement to unite all Jews through keeping one Shabbos together.”   Sounds like a lovely idea, doesn’t it?   Though, isn’t that what we do week after week- observe Shabbat with Jews throughout the world?  It was the Israeli writer and philosopher Ahad Ha-am who first reminded us, “More than Israel has kept Shabbat, has Shabbat kept Israel.”   The international construct, if you will, that keeps Jews “together” is already present.  It’s called Shabbat, and it has the potential to unite us.  Indeed, Jews worldwide observe it.

While not so obvious on the Shabbos Project flyers posted throughout our community in places like Starbucks, or in the materials advertising the Baltimore Challah bake that occurred at the JCC as part of the project, this Shabbos Project is far from a pluralistic effort at uniting world Jewry.  It has been organized by a South African outreach organization called Kiruv.   Kiruv’s mission is one of unifying the Jewish people.  Their website states, “Our united efforts, with HaShem’s help, will be the seeds to infuse light, love, and inspiration to all of Am Yisrael.”  What becomes clear when digging a bit deeper specifically into the directions for the Shabbos Project’s hosts, however, is that the goal of unifying the Jewish people is only about unifying us according to one narrow definition of what it means to be an observant Jew. 

Hosts are encouraged to “share the beauty of Shabbos by inviting a less-affiliated Jew into your home.”  I’m not sure what they mean by “less-affliated,” but I have a sense they are referring to folks just like me.  Non-Orthodox Jews.  It is striking that nowhere in the marketing materials are denominational terms used, just “Jewish” and “less affiliated.”  There are guidelines, of course, on how to handle “halachik mistakes” made by guests.  Encourage Torah observance, but don’t judge.  Tell your kids not to make any comments regarding lack of knowledge about basic Jewish concepts.  Remind them, your kids that is, that your visitors have never had the privilege of a Yeshiva education.  Oh, and my favorite suggestion, “when bringing female guests to shul, make sure there is a user friendly mechitza”…If the women’s section isn’t inviting, it is “better to encourage them to stay home with the women of the home.  This is particularly important for beginners.”  The website manual states.

I could share more about the instructions for those serving as hosts for this worldwide Shabbos effort, but you get the idea.  It is less about Shabbat ideals, and far more about promulgating a Halachicly narrow, Orthodox definition of Shabbat observance.  It is not at all about true unity, or making the world a better place, or even providing that taste of redemption.  It's about forwarding one idea about how to keep the Sabbath.

As I said, we need better marketing.

How do we – Reform Jews who do observe Shabbat, who live full Jewish lives, even if not halachikly bound ones – how do we respond to this divisive message that their “keeping Shabbat” is better than ours, that their way is God’s preference?  First and foremost, we must never be apologetic regarding the Reform movement’s stance on ritual, our understanding of history or Torah, or our personal level of Jewish observance.   Whether we tear toilet paper or not or use a light switch on Shabbat, should not be held up as a defining measures of our Jewishness, our connection to God, let alone our moral character.  Moreover, we should speak proudly about how we do express our Jewish observance.   We must always speak in the positive: affirm what choices are made and provide explanations that extend beyond mere convenience. 

Despite the concerns I have regarding Kiruv’s Shabbos Project, I hope it motivates us in one very important direction.  Each of us, regarding of our level of observance should take time to consider what makes us Jewish.  Is it simply a matter of our biology? Or, is it our commitment to social justice, the values of tikun olam?  Is it a matter of a faith in a singular God?  Or, is your Judaism defined primarily through historical and cultural connections to the past?   For so many generations, Jewish identity was assigned to us as much by external forces as by individual choice.  That is no longer the case today.   In our modern, some argue post-modern, world, we are not identified as Jewish unless we choose to be.  And, I’d argue, it behooves us to do so, to each be a Jew by choice.  I firmly believe that we must each consciously and proactively identify as Jewish – we must choose it.  In that sense the Shabbos Project has it right: we must choose to opt-in if we expect Jewish life to thrive into the decades and centuries ahead.

My hope – a hope that is at least as passionate as, if not more so, than the one behind Kiruv’s Shabbos Project—is that Progressive, Reform Judaism remains a vibrant, accessible, intellectually engaging, aesthetically beautiful and welcoming place for all Jews to opt-in.

  

Purple Shabbat: What Makes us Human, Delivered Shabbat Bereshit, 10/18/14

            Central to the biblical creation story, or at least one of the stories preserved in Bereshit, is the Tree of Knowledge.  Smack dab in the middle of the garden grew both the Tree of Life and its companion, the Tree of Knowledge.  It is the latter that comes to define the human condition.   A contraction in the tale stands out and can serve to inform us:  At the start, God makes it clear in his warning to Adam, “you can eat from any tree except this one.  You eat from the Tree of Knowledge, and you die.”

            But, that isn’t what happens is it?  Here the serpent does know better.  Neither Adam nor Eve meet their end from touching or eating this tree’s fruit (at least not immediately or any time soon).   The consequences were, perhaps, far more complicated: their eyes were opened to a reality far beyond the idyllic delights of Eden.  It’s as if a switch clicked on in their brains that made them suddenly aware, suddenly capable of complex thinking and understanding.  The consequences of this awareness brings with it challenge and arguably responsibility (it is knowledge of good and evil), but the very fact that the story was written and preserved in the manner in which it was, included in the Torah, no less, highlights how much we value this awareness, how much we value the ability to comprehend and evaluate, to distinguish between right and wrong.   There is a clear assumption to this story: we wouldn’t give up the so-called “curses” delivered, such as the need to toil and labor throughout our days on earth, if it meant giving up the companion gifts received from the ability to think and evaluate coherently. 

            We value our brains and its functions.   As liturgist Eugene Kohn expressed so well in a poetic work included in the 1948 Liberal British mahzor, Petach Teshuva, and then adapted later by Chaim Stern for our American mahzor, our mind and the way it functions is what distinguishes us from the rest of God’s creations.   After outlining the gifts bestowed on the animal world, Kohn continues:

But upon one species, more than upon the others,

Thou hast lavish Thy gifts;

Upon one species whom Thy creative word called into being

            Among the last

Of species still extant –

The species, [humankind].

Thou gavest him not the fangs and claws of the lion and tiger;

            Thou gavest him not the thick hide of the elephant;

            Or the scaly armor of the alligator;

            To the gazelle, we were slow of foot,

            To the lioness, a weakling,

            And the eagle thought us bound to earth.

            But, Thou gavest us powers greater than all these,

            A skillful hand,

            A probing mind,

            A loving heart,

            A soul aspiring to know and to fulfill its destiny

as governed by [Divine] wisdom.  (p. 368, Petach Teshuva, adapted)

            Whether we are better or not than the rest of the animal kingdom for it, we do value our brain function.  We even have an entire academic discipline, the humanities, that concerns itself with human thought and culture and does so with the analytical and critical processes central to our brains and our human condition.

            Imagine if those processes slowly disappeared: the ability to remember even simple details, the ability to reason through a problem or dilemma, the ability to navigate in familiar surroundings – even in one’s own home, the ability to remember the histories of beloved family and friends, the ability to take care of basic personal needs.   Having tasted knowledge, I can assure you, it wouldn’t be a return to Eden.  And, it isn’t for those suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease and other forms of dementia.

            This Shabbat, in our Baltimore community, is Purple Shabbat.  Nothing to do with the Ravens - really, Purple Shabbat marks the Jewish Community’s joining with other faith communities who will mark Purple Sunday tomorrow, in an effort to raise awareness of the work of the Alzheimer’s Association and to provide access to materials and resources for those who are dealing with this disease. 

            The facts are stark.  Alzheimer’s disease is an irreversible, progressive – currently uncurable -brain disease that, according to the NIH, is the most common cause of dementia in older adults.  It not only impacts the individual suffering from the disease, but it brings with it extraordinary consequences and conditions for caregivers who most often are also immediate family members who are simultaneously dealing with the slow and progressive loss of their loved one.  

            At the same time, there is support and there are resources to help.  One of the primary goals of the Alzheimer’s Association beyond research is to provide support to individuals and families.  Information is available on their website.  Information is also immediately available in our lobby. Take advantage of it.  Share it.   

www.alz.org