Parshat Noah: Windows & The World

Why does God command Noah to build a “tzohar” (opening) on the ark? The tevah was meant to enclose and protect those inside so they could survive the flood. What purpose, then, would an opening serve? The interpretations of the tzohar provide a model for how we might view our own homes and places of prayer today.

The word tzohar appears only once in Tanach, making it difficult to define. Rashi, citing midrash, offers two explanations: (1) a window, or (2) a precious stone that emitted light. Both explain how Noah and his family—confined in the ark for a year—had light and could distinguish between day and night. Yet the difference is telling: a stone brings light inward but offers no view outward, while a window lets light in and allows one to look out and connect with the world beyond. Hizkuni identifies this tzohar as the very window through which Noah sent the raven, a moment marking his first reconnection with the outside world. 

Windows also carry symbolic meaning in our prayer spaces and homes. Talmud Berachot, based on Daniel, teaches that one should pray in a bayit with windows—a law later codified in halakha. Some rishonim explain that natural light or a view of the heavens enhances kavanah (concentration). Rav Kook adds that a person who has the most heartfelt  prayers, but is disconnected from the outside world is not achieving the full purpose of tefilla. By davening in a room with a view of the outside, a person will be inspired to positively influence and do good in the world s/he inhabits. 

Like Noah’s tevah, our homes and shuls are a space to protect and nurture ourselves, to build up our faith and inner light. Yet if we never look outward, our spiritual lives remain incomplete. The window reminds us that faith is not only about shelter, but about shining light into the world beyond. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Naso: Blessing the whole Jewish people

Parshat Naso contains the short but powerful priestly blessing. The commentaries on birkat kohanim highlight its ongoing resonance for the Jewish nation.

Who gives the blessings? One verse suggests that the kohanim have the power to bless the people: “This is how you are to bless Bnei Yisrael…” However, it also states: “put My name on Bnei Yisrael, and I will bless them.” Rashbam explains that God is the source of blessings and the kohanim only offer up prayer. Sefer Hachinuch however, comments that the kohanim are the vehicle through which the bracha is transferred from God to the people. He adds that the people have a role as well – to desire the brachot. According to this, everyone has a role to play in causing brachot to flow. 

There are also many interpretations of the content of birkat Kohanim. Abarbanel, 15th century scholar and statesman, explains the three blessings as corresponding to the three elements which a nation needs to flourish: 1) economic protection and success, 2) wisdom and spirituality, and 3) the blessing of strength and peace, internally and externally. Abarbanel, who tried to prevent the expulsion of Jews from Spain, must have had a keen understanding of what it takes to be a successful nation and the importance of having a homeland for Jews, with an army to defend them. 

The brachot seem to be in ascending order and culminate with the blessing of peace. The Ha’amek Davar teaches that this is because shalom is the basis for all other brachot. This concept holds particular importance today, given the challenges we face. The Jewish people are stronger and better positioned to receive God’s blessings when we appreciate the importance of all three aspects of our nation – sustenance, spirituality, and inner solidarity combined with overall security. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Ki Tissa: Talmudic thoughts on Suffering

How can we relate to unexplainable suffering? Like many of us, the Talmudic Sages grappled with this most difficult of theological questions and found insights in this week’s parsha.

Parshat Ki Tissa describes one of the greatest failings of Bnei Yisrael – the sin of the golden calf, followed by Moshe’s pleas and prayers, and God’s benevolent forgiveness. Within this narrative, the Torah describes Moshe’s unusual and surprising request of God in Exodus 33: “Let me know Your ways,” and, “Show me Your glory.” God gives Moshe a view of His “back” and His “glory.” However, even Moshe is not given the ability to fully see God’s “face” and comprehend God’s essence. What is Moshe asking of God exactly? The Sages interpret this scene as Moshe asking God how to understand the problem of theodicy in this world, of why the righteous suffer. For them, this was the most difficult and burning question. 

Talmud Berakhot contains various approaches to suffering. Some rabbis believed suffering should prompt introspection and welcomed suffering as a sign of God’s love. Yet, it also shares three stories about Rabbi Yochanan and his students discussing their suffering in which they clearly and repeatedly protest the notion of sufferings of love: “I do not welcome suffering nor its reward.” This was especially relevant to Rabbi Yochanan, who lost ten children. He and his students find some healing by lifting each other up and practicing compassion.  

In the biblical world, suffering was understood to be a direct result of transgression. Rabbinic theology however, provides various approaches to suffering with more resonance for our time. It encourages us to examine our actions for the better, yet, it also sees potential dangers and futility in attempting to understand or explain suffering. Just as Moshe could not fully know God, some suffering is truly beyond our comprehension and inexplicable. Rabbinic sources provide us with space to grapple with this challenge, and hopefully, steps toward some healing. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Terumah: From Mishkan to Israel

The word “terumah” (contribution) is mentioned three times in the beginning of parshat Terumah, prompting the commentaries to explore the significance of the type of donations made to build the mishkan. Amazingly, their insights reflect the spirit of commitment and giving which we have seen across Am Yisrael recently.

Rashi explains that there were three distinct donations: two which were “chova” (required) and given equally by everyone, known as the machatzit hashekel, and one which was “nedava” (voluntary), giving as much as their “heart inspires” them. What emerges is two kinds of giving: The initial pair involves giving at a national scale while upholding the equal and noteworthy value of each individual offering. The third form embraces variety in individual contributions. Rav Amital, based on the Maharal, taught that this combination is necessary within Jewish life, a balance between first, “chova” (required commitment) and then, “nedava” (voluntary dedication). 

Similarly, The Lubavitcher Rebbe interprets the different materials of the mishkan as representing Jews with different levels of Torah commitment and religiosity. The mishkan only works if it includes everyone. The mishkan was a great unifier, including even those who think or practice differently. 
Today, Israel exhibits resemblances to these characteristics of the mishkan, underscoring the vital importance of the medinat Yisrael as a center and homeland for the Jewish people. We have witnessed ongoing contributions based on “chova” – young Israelis responding without hesitation to the call to serve. We also see the continuing “nedava” – service, gifts and solidarity from Israelis and Jews around the world who gave with “generosity of the heart.” Terumah is a timely reminder: Let’s preserve this spirit of connection and commitment, required alongside voluntary, and based on unity with diversity. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Bo: Enduring Faith

Did the Exodus from Egypt take place during the day or night? The commentaries on parshat Bo find meaning in this ambiguity. It is a symbol of enduring faith through difficult times.

First, God promises to bring the plague against the first-born at around mid-night (“k’chatzot”) after which the people would leave Egypt. Then, God’s promise is fulfilled in the middle of the night (“b’chatzi halayla”). Pharaoh, in response to the suffering, commands Moshe to take the Israelites out in the night. However, Moshe had instructed the people not to leave their homes until the morning. It also states that God took them out of Egypt on “that very day,” understood by some commentaries to mean in full daylight. Light is associated with redemption in rabbinic thought. Bereshit Rabbah understands the words “And there was light,” from the creation story, as “corresponding to the book of Exodus in which Israel emerged from darkness to light.” Daylight brings a new day and with it the potential to reaffirm our faith in God and experience redemption. 

Ramban resolves the ambiguity of the timing of the Exodus as follows: B’nei Yisrael left Egypt in the daytime, so all could see, but the process of geula began at night. Mid-night then is a turning point, when the seeds of potential for redemption begin. This association of midnight as the beginning of the redemption process is reinforced in the midrash about King David, who would learn Torah until midnight (for protection) and from then on sing songs of praise to God. According to this reading, redemption begins even while we experience darkness, when we can’t see clearly or know when the light will begin to rise.

Similarly, Talmud Berakhot praises those who conclude the Shema with sunrise and “juxtapose redemption to prayer.” The image of preparing for redemption from midnight and of standing in prayer before sunrise has carried the Jewish people through periods of darkness before and will carry us through the challenges we face today. Shabbat Shalom – Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Va’era: Recognizing Evil

Parshat Va’era marks the beginning of the redemption from Egypt. Before, the Jews suffered under Pharaoh’s harsh decrees, now Pharaoh begins to suffer. Before, God seemed hidden. Now, God’s presence was revealed and redemption promised. These chapters resonate today, as the world questions who is the perpetrator of evil and suffering and as we try to breathe and remain strong during difficult times. 

Nechama Leibwitz points out that God’s name is absent from the first two chapters of Shemot. This hester panim (hiddenness) which felt like distance and abandonment, is followed with Va’era, God’s (re)appearance. God even reveals a previously unknown name or characteristic to Moshe. Yet, the people struggled to believe, due to a broken spirit (kotzer ruah) and difficult labor (avodah kasha). Rashi defines this “broken spirit” as a difficulty taking deep breaths due to deep anguish. The midrash teaches that they were feeding off of Moshe’s concerns and doubts. 

Following this, God brings the plagues and proclaims: “I will harden (aksheh) Pharaoh’s heart, that I may multiply My signs and marvels in the land of Egypt.” (Shemot 7:3) The commentaries debate the purpose of the plagues and the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart. Rambam brings Pharaoh as a rare example of evil and cruelty which leads to the loss of free will. Sometimes evil is so terrible it can only be punished and eradicated. Another view is that the plagues were brought to demonstrate God’s wonders and truth. Rashi teaches that this was necessary to inspire the faith of the trodden spirit of the Jewish people. The midrash Sifre says it was meant to bring God’s light and truth to the whole world.

Va’era has two relevant messages for this week: 1) Try to overcome the kotzer ruah we may naturally be feeling after so much loss. 2) There will be times when others can’t recognize and call out real evil, and with God’s help we will continue to spread our light and truth to the world. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Vayigash: Achdut

Vayigash is the parsha of achdut (Jewish unity). Before Oct. 7th we longed for more achdut. Since Oct. 7th we have been carried by the spirit of our people’s togetherness. Going forward, how do we preserve this achdut in Israeli society despite our differences? The approach of Yehuda toward Yosef provides some insight.

“Then Yehuda approached him [Yosef]…” This was a pivotal moment in the story of Yaacov’s sons. At their lowest point, the brothers could not speak peaceably with Yosef. Rashi characterizes their feelings of disdain as having “moved on from all feelings of brotherhood.” In parshat Vayigash, Yehuda (who doesn’t realize that he is speaking to his brother) speaks at length to Yosef, in the hopes of saving Binyamin as he had promised his father. 

Bereshit Rabbah likens this encounter to a well with good, cold water at the bottom, which is out of reach until someone ties rope to rope and draws from it and drinks. So too, Yehuda approached Yosef with many words until he found the ones which touched Yosef’s heart. The physical approach, along with words, communication, are the keys to bridging deep divides. 

The haftorah too, contains a vision for Jewish unity, particularly for modern Israel. Yechezkel is told by God to take two sticks and write on one the name Yosef (Ephraim and the tribes of Yisrael) and the other Yehuda and then, “Bring them close to each other, so that they become one stick.” Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaCohen Kook quoted this prophecy in his eulogy for Theodor Herzl and calls the secular Zionist movement the footsteps of the messiah son of Yosef. 

Rav Kook was a model for approaching and drawing closer to parts of Israeli society who thought and lived differently. How can we walk in the footsteps of Yehuda, Yechezkel and Rav Kook? By seeing what they all saw – we are one people. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson