Kedoshim: An Antidote to Hate

Parshat Kedoshim contains one of the most important chapters in the Torah according to the commentaries. It also contains mitzvot which are at the forefront of contemporary society and the challenges we face.

After focusing on the holiness of the mikdash and kohanim, Vayikra 19 marks a revolutionary shift where everyone is commanded: “Be holy.” Midrash Sifra teaches that this was one of the sections read out to the whole community during hakhel, emphasizing the potential for all to infuse their lives with holiness. Moreover, it lists many interpersonal mitzvot as the path to holiness. One of these mitzvot – “love your neighbor as yourself,” – was considered by Rabbi Akiva to be the overarching rule of the Torah.

New challenges have arisen accentuating the importance of these mitzvot which strive to enhance human relationships. Smartphones and social media have made it easy and trendy to criticize others publicly. This has led to hurtful and alienating behaviors such as virtue signaling, shaming and canceling. More sinisterly, it has also fueled the spread of fake news, hatred and extremism. One mitzvah in particular speaks to this challenge: “You shall not hate your brother in your heart, rebuke your kinsman, but incur no guilt because of him.” This verse seems to support criticizing others. Yet, the Talmud Arachin limits the scope of “tochecha,” when it teaches that the criticism must stop if it results in public shaming. The sages themselves acknowledge that most of them were incapable of receiving or giving rebuke effectively as it was meant to diminish hatred in one’s heart.

What is the antidote to the spread of falsehood, hatred and anger? Frank Bruni writes that in this era “overwhelmed by grievance,” we need more humility. Even more, Kedoshim provides a moral and practical framework for calling out injustice from a desire to spread holiness instead of hatred. Shabbat Shalom🇮🇱 -Karen Miller Jackson


Achrei Mot: Remember Where You Came From and Where You Are Going

Parshat Acharei Mot contains a unique command which relates to remembering our past in order to preserve our identity and values. This is also an integral part of sefirat ha-omer and how we commemorate Yom HaShoah.

The second half of the parsha contains a number of prohibitions, including:  “You shall not copy the practices of the land of Egypt where you dwelt or of the land of Canaan to which I am taking you…” Rather, we must follow the laws and statutes of God. How should we understand this vague command? This verse precedes the list of arayot, sexual sins. Hence, Ramban understands this as referring to the sexual promiscuity and immorality that was widespread in ancient Egyptian and Canaanite culture, from which we need to distance ourselves. Rashi, however, understands this as a broader warning: By observing the laws of Torah we move away from the generally immoral culture of ancient Egypt and Canaan and aspire to live a holy life.

Similarly, the imperative to remember our point of origin (Egypt) and to move toward holiness or freedom (Matan Torah) is the reason why we count the omer, according to the Sefer Hachinuch. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks zt”l teaches that the omer marks cyclical time (the agricultural year) as well as historical time. While it was common in the ancient near east to mark cyclical time, the Torah is unique and revolutionary in its call to count historical or “covenantal” time. Through counting, we reenact moving from Egypt to Sinai, from enslavement and exodus to revelation and positive liberty. 

This is also the way we approach and commemorate Yom HaShoah. This year in particular, we are reminded of the necessity to remember, to internalize the lessons of history and to pray that this year’s counting brings about true freedom and redemption. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Metzora and Pesach: Hope for our Home & Homeland

This week we triumphed over an existential threat that impacted us individually and nationally. Parshat Metzora and Pesach both focus on our homes and homeland as a source of strength, hope and protection. 

The parsha describes the purification process from tzara’at. This was a disease which affected not only a person’s body, but also can appear on one’s clothing and one’s home. However, tzara’at of the home is distinguished from that of the body and clothes as it only can appear once the people enter the land of Israel. While tzara’at is generally thought of as a punishment, when it appears on a home it can be seen in a positive light. Rashi teaches that it was a “besora,” good tidings, or a blessing, since the previous owners of the houses (Canaanites) hid their jewels in the walls which would be uncovered by Bnei Yisrael. Additionally, the kohen oversaw a process of renovation and purification which “attones for,” and renews the home. Establishing a home in Israel may entail hardship, but God provides hidden glimmers of hope and blessings. 

The home also plays a key role in the story of Pesach. Before they leave Egypt, God commands Bnei Yisrael to put blood on their doorposts. Rashi, citing the Mekhilta, explains that the blood was put on the inside of the doorpost, “as a sign for you.” And, God would see the people of Israel involved in performing mitzvot and would then protect them. The blood on the doorposts teaches that by fostering commitment in our individual homes, we will merit God’s national protection.

This Pesach, many homes are incomplete. Some have lost loved ones, some are still healing, some are away defending our homeland and some are still held captive, may Hashem redeem them. May this Pesach bring strength, nechama and renewal to our individual homes and may God see our commitment to our homeland and reward us with protection and salvation. Shabbat Shalom and Chag Kasher ve-Sameach –Karen Miller Jackson


Shemini: Conflicting Emotions

The eighth day, which should have been the pinnacle of celebration, was pierced by tragedy. Parshat Shemini describes the ambiguous sin of Nadav and Avihu and their instant death. This is followed by the challenge of recovery for their father Aaron, who wants to grieve, and at the same time, needs to continue to fulfill his leadership role as Kohen. How does one cope with such conflicting emotions and responsibilities? 

After Aaron’s two sons offer up a “foreign fire” to God and are killed, Moshe attempts to console his brother. Aaron’s reaction is heartrending: “And Aaron was silent.” Even harder, Moshe then commands Aaron and his remaining sons that they may not follow the usual mourning rituals since they must continue serving as kohanim. One midrash interprets Aaron’s silence as a statement of faith in the face of the tragic and unexplained loss of his sons. However, some commentaries explain the silence as the only way Aaron could express his pain and inability to mourn properly. 

Aaron’s quiet pain is reinforced a few verses later when Moshe loses his temper and criticizes Aaron’s remaining sons (by extension Aaron too) for not eating the sin-offering (chatat). Aaron reacts by teaching Moshe that it would have been inappropriate to eat that sacrifice. The Talmud Zevachim explains that Aaron was correct to eat only of the sacrifices which were related to the inauguration of the mishkan, whereas it was inappropriate for an onen (mourner) to eat of the regular Rosh Chodesh sin-offering. 
This story is particularly resonant now, as it highlights the challenge and possibility of holding on to conflicting emotions. Amidst the grief, Am Yisrael finds the strength to continue and live. We can feel pride in the valor of our heroic soldiers and be committed to winning this war, and at the same time, we can feel and express sympathy and regret for this week’s tragic loss of life. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Vayikra: The Heart follows the Giving

Parshat Vayikra teaches the laws of various korbanot. The concept of sacrifices may seem archaic and irrelevant to our lives today. However, the commentaries find deep meaning in the Torah’s description of these offerings. 

The first of the korbanot, the olah (elevation), is introduced as follows: “If a man (adam) from among you offers a sacrifice…” It is less common for the Torah to use the word “adam” for man, instead of “ish.” Rashi based on the midrash teaches that this refers to the first man of creation – Adam, who was the first to bring a sacrifice to God (in the midrash). Just as Adam did not give a gift to God from stolen property, we too must not make an offering based on theft. Adam’s offering was whole-hearted. The act of giving brought him closer to God and elevated his own life. Perhaps this is also an optimistic assessment of the spiritual potential of his descendents. 

A similar idea is expressed about the sin-offering in the Sefer Hachinuch. The korban chatat is brought when a person sins inadvertently. Even when the sin is unintentional, words of regret are not enough to compensate. The act of bringing an offering fulfills the Chinuch’s famous concept of “the heart follows after the actions.” In sinning we move away from God, by giving we move closer. And, the act of giving has a deep imprint on our character. In more modern terms, Gary Chapman has shown that there are five types of love languages in couple relationships. One of the ways some people express love and draw closer is through the giving and receiving of gifts. 

This principle is also at the heart of Purim. Rambam writes that one should spend more money on gifts to the poor than on other Purim mitzvot, since “no joy is greater than the joy of gladdening the hearts of the poor…” Our hearts may be heavier than usual this Purim. May our hearts follow after the act of giving and find some light and joy. Shabbat Shalom and Purim sameach -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Vayikra: Calling the Jewish People

What is the call of “Vayikra” for the Jewish people today?

Numerous commentaries explain that parshat Vayikra is a direct continuation of Shemot, which ended with Moshe outside the mishkan. Even Moshe, the greatest prophet of all time, could not enter the holiest place at all times. Vayikra teaches that when an individual was impure, s/he too could not enter the mikdash. Human experiences of holiness have a rhythm of ebbs and flows, highs and lows. Similarly, Rabbi S.R. Hirsch teaches that the root of the word “korban” is “k.r.v,” to come close. The korbanot in the time of the mikdash (and today our tefillot) are a way to draw closer to Hashem – highlighting that one cannot stay in a continuous state of holiness. We are human beings, not angels.

Perhaps Rashi alludes to this in interpreting “Vayikra” as an expression of God’s affection (חבה) for Moshe and invitation to draw closer to holiness and hear God’s words. Rashi relates this to the call of angels in Isaiah – which we say in the kedusha of the amidah – “And one called (ve-karah) out to the other, holy, holy, holy…” In entering the ohel moed, Moshe becomes angel-like. In standing with feet together and saying kedusha we strive to be holy like angels (whose feet were like a straight foot). However, we can’t stay this way permanently.

Regarding the position of feet in prayer, Rav Kook writes that our feet are for both walking and standing. When we walk, legs apart, we advance and grow in Torah knowledge. When standing with feet together in prayer, we solidify ourselves through unity (achdut).

There is also a rhythm within the Jewish nation. There are times we as a people can debate constructively and withstand moving in different directions, at different paces. And then there are times we need to pause in order to solidify, to draw closer in holiness and focus on achdut. Shabbat Shalom🌸 -Karen Miller Jackson