September 2023 at Temple Beth Ami
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Ki Tavo
Ki Tavo
Deut. 26:1 – 29:8
Rabbi Gary Pokras
What is the difference between joy and happiness? And which is more important?
Years ago, I read an extraordinary book by an author with whom I often disagree: Dennis Praeger. It is called Happiness is a Serious Problem and it is without question one of the handful of books that changed the way I see the world for the better. In it, he offered an eloquent argument for the vital importance of happiness, and offered techniques for how we can cultivate more and deeper happiness in our lives.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (z”l) offered a different, equally compelling interpretation in one of his commentaries to this week’s Torah portion.1 He challenged the preeminence of happiness, even while acknowledging its importance. Why? Because in Judaism, happiness is secondary to joy. Among the most quoted passages from Ki Tavo is: “Then you will rejoice in all the good things that the Lord your God has given you and your family, along with the Levites and the stranger in your midst.” (Deut. 26:11)
Rabbi Sacks contrasts this with the opening verses of the Psalms:
Happy is the man who has not walked in the counsel of the wicked nor stood in the way of sinners, nor sat where scoffers sit. But his desire is in the Torah of the Lord; on his Torah he meditates day and night. He shall be like a tree planted by streams of water, bearing its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither; and in all that he does he prospers. (Ps. 1:1-3)
The Hebrew word for Happy is ashrei. In the Bible, it describes a life of blessing, and deep rootedness, able to weather the winds and vicissitudes of life with serenity and strength. The Hebrew word for joy simcha. Simcha is about gratitude and celebration, and unlike ashrei is never about us as individuals but rather, as Rabbi Saks teaches, is “about what we share.”2
Happiness is something we pursue, just as Dennis Praeger teaches. It is an attitude that we can cultivate, which, with effort, we can apply to the entirety of our lives. Joy comes upon us from without. According to Rabbi Saks: “It has to do with a sense of connection to other people or to God … It is a social emotion. It is the exhilaration we feel when we merge with others. It is the redemption of solitude.”3
Ashrei is a central American value, enshrined in our Declaration of Independence. In the Jewish Bible it is especially prominent in the Psalms, some of which we recite daily. However, ashrei is not mentioned anywhere in the Torah. In contrast, simchah occurs once in each of the first books of the Torah, and then an astonishing twelve times in the book of Deuteronomy. In our Torah portion, it relates to bringing the first fruits to Jerusalem.
As an American, I understand the importance of pursuing happiness. As a Jew, I revel in the shared experience of joyful gatherings. Joy is about living in the moment. No matter how difficult our history, no matter how threatening our future, we take set times to celebrate. Who knows what the future will bring? We are here now, and time is precious to us mortals. Yes, we must remember. And yes, we must prepare. However, we cannot forget to rejoice, to find gratitude together, for all that we have now: our lives, our relationships, the Torah we have learned, the food we eat, the community we share. Happiness strengthens and roots me as an individual. Joy brings us together as a community, it provides context for our lives, and places us firmly in a life affirming tradition and a remarkably resilient people.
Ki Tetze 5783 Deut. 21:10 – 25:19
Ki Tetze 5783
Deut. 21:10 – 25:19
By Rabbi Baht Weiss
If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep gone astray, do not ignore it, you must take it back to your fellow. If your fellow doesn’t live near you or you do not know him, you shall bring it home and it shall remain with you until your fellow claims it, then you shall give it back to him. You shall do the same with his donkey, and the same with his garment, and so too shall you do with anything your fellow loses and you must not remain indifferent. – Deuteronomy 22:1-3
When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof, so that you do not bring blood guilt on your house if anyone should fall from it. -Deuteronomy 22:8
Ki Teitzei contains 72 mitzvot, commandments. Most of them discuss ethical values on the social structure of the community, some that feel outdated to our modern sensibilities—like laws against cross dressing and for the protocol for finding out that a wife is (gasp) not in fact, a virgin.
While I refrain on commenting on those commandments, the verses that I shared above, are some of my favorites of the 72 commandments found in this Torah portion. What impresses me about these mitzvot, is they are not just concerned with commandments bein adam la’makom-between individuals (ourselves) and God but also deal with mitzvot bein adam le-havero, the relationship between an individual and his/her kinsman.
We are often so busy trying to make sure we do the right things for our own lives; —the choices that offer us the best outcomes, benefit our families, win us favor with God, that these verses remind us of our communal responsibility to look beyond our own self-interest and to be more conscience of how our actions affect others.
The idea that when we find something that does not belong to us—we have a responsibility to return it—it’s more than a nice thing to do—it is an expectation. The Torah teaches us that we are not supposed to withhold a worker’s pay, because they may depend on it. (I am the one rooting for Larry David in Curb your Enthusiasm who is always appalled when people do not repay their debts. While it might be socially awkward to ask to be paid back for a loan, Larry should not even have to ask!)
I like that these laws are proactive—when you build a house—you must build a railing that protects others—you are to anticipate the safety and needs of others. We had a safety training here at Beth Ami last week—to me, this is like building a parapet—we realize we have a responsibility to do all we can to ensure the safety of those who wish to pray, learn, or congregate in our spaces.
In this month of Elul, as we approach the High Holy Days, we know that on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur we do not just stand before God but we are also charged to deal with our interpersonal relationships. As Maimonides tells us “For transgressions against God and Man—God forgives, but for transgressions bein adam l’havero—between individuals—that us to up rectify.
Caring about one another’s property, working to keep one another safe in a community and caring for the collective well-being is an important Jewish value. The Talmud teaches-Kol Aravim Zeh b’Zeh—All of Israel is responsible for one another.
Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson points out that a religious Jew is called observant. He suggests, “Perhaps we need to open our eyes, to observe the ways in which we can each take better care of each other and secure each other’s health and safety more completely. When we look out for each other, our observance is something beautiful.” In this way, each of us can be more “observant” Jews.