Re’eh 5782 Duet. 11:26-16:17
Re’eh 5782
Duet. 11:26-16:17
Rabbi Baht Yameem Weis
“If there is a needy person among you, one of your kin in any of your settlements in the land that the Eternal your God is giving you, do not harden your heart and shut your hand against your needy kin. Rather you must open your hand and lend whatever is sufficient to meet the need…Give generously to him and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in your work and everything you put your hand to.” (Deuteronomy 15:7-10)
From a young age we are told of the importance of tzedakah, of giving charity. But tzedakah is much more than charity. The word tzedakah literally means righteousness and comes from the root-tzedek-justice. Tzedakah can be translated as “righteous giving.” Giving tzedakah is not just donating money but rather, acting righteously in the world. In next week’s Torah portion, Shoftim we will read the words Tzedek Tzedek Tirdof: Justice, Justice, you shall pursue.” Maybe it is not a coincidence that so many Jews are lawyers! After all, the Torah consists of numerous laws and commands us to pursue social justice.
Whether we act righteously by donating money to charities we feel are deserving, by volunteering our time to social causes we believe in or engaging in advocacy work, tzedekah is a core Jewish value.
When Aaron asked the Israelites to donate all their gold to the building of the golden calf, they did not hesitate. When Moses asked the Israelites to make voluntary contributions to the construction of the sanctuary, they gave so willingly that Moses had to ask them to stop. He had too much! What a great problem to have!
If there are people in our community in need, tzedakah is not just a nice thing to do, it is our ethical duty to respond to that need. It is easy to grow busy with our own lives, we worry about caring for our families, paying our bills, getting enough rest and exercise, but there is always room for us to share our resources and give back. And we never know when we may go from being the giver to the recipient. Those who have more are expected to share it with those who have less. From the orphan to the widow to the stranger, we have an obligation to provide for those who cannot provide for themselves.
This Sunday, we begin the month of Elul. Elul is our preparatory month before the High Holy Days. We are asked to reflect on the past year and take a chesbon ha-nefesh, a personal accounting of how well we are doing in our lives. Before we stand in judgment, perhaps before God, perhaps before ourselves and our conscience we have a chance to temper the decree by engaging in Tefilah, Tzedakah and Teshuvah. Prayer, Righteousness and Repentance.
Prayer is not enough. And Repentance is only part of the package. Our actions count. Tzedakah is not just writing a check, it’s the values we believe in and the stands that we take. Living in the DC area presents us with a myriad of opportunities to involve ourselves in causes we believe in. The word Re’eh literally means “see”, to look deeper at issues and to not overlook those in our community that do not have the same freedoms that we have.
May we begin this season of introspection looking deep within ourselves and out into our community to find ways that we can engage in acts of tzedekah, righteousness, so that all people may live a life of equality and justice.
Ekev 5872 Deut. 7:12 – 11:25
Ekev 5872
Deut. 7:12 – 11:25
Rabbi Gary Pokras
There is an old joke that Jews will rarely miss an opportunity to take something simple, and then make it complicated and counterintuitive. Take for example, the mealtime blessings. In the Christian world, it is common for one person at the table to compose a detailed prayer of gratitude before the meal. These prayers often mention the people sitting around the table, the people in their lives, the food they are about to eat, and anything else of interest or import. In the Jewish tradition, the blessing before most meals requires only a single-line formula in Hebrew, which thanks God for creating everything necessary for the bread on our table. However, that is only the beginning of the meal. After the meal, we then chant birkat hamazon, the blessing after the meal. Unlike the blessing before the meal, birkat hamazon is pages and pages long (it requires a small book to contain the full set of blessings in the long form).
Why do we say a blessing before and after the meal? And why is the blessing before the meal so short, and the blessing after the meal so long?
The first question has a simple answer: it is better to offer thanks twice than once. Gratitude is worth cultivating, and unlike so many other things in life, I do not think it is possible to have too much. The second question is more complicated. Why would we offer such a long blessing after we have (hopefully) eaten our fill? The answer is that when we are looking forward to our meal, and hungry, it is natural to anticipate our food with gratitude. Indeed, in tractate Berachot of the Talmud, the rabbis develop the idea that a blessing is necessary before we enjoy anything in the world. Without acknowledging God’s role as Creator and Owner of Creation, to take anything for ourselves would be the equivalent of theft from God. Who wants to be a defendant in a case like that? In this framework, we are not able to eat anything without first offering a blessing. In a sense, it is a requirement rather than a voluntary act. However, once we are fully satiated, then our motivation to offer thanks may decline – after all, we already have what we wanted. It is exactly at this point that our gratitude is more impactful and even necessary for our spiritual health. So, the ancient rabbis turned to Torah, to this week’s parasha for guidance:
“When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the Eternal for the good land given you.” [Deut. 8:10]
From this, they developed a set of blessings specifically designed to help us cultivate gratitude to God after we have eaten. To my mind, birkat hamazon, is a powerful reminder of God’s generosity. For it goes far beyond the meal itself – connecting us to the land – the source of our food, to the building of Jerusalem (and Judaism), to God’s majesty, to the sanctification of time. It moves from the very act of Creation to the table and the people who placed food upon it. It reminds us that all of this, and everything in the world has its origin in the Creator. And it reminds us that just as God is deeply generous each and every day, so too, should we be generous – especially to those whose needs are greater than our own.
Yes, from the outside, birkat hamazon is indeed complicated and counterintuitive. Yet, like so many other Jewish practices, from the inside it is nothing less than inspirational.
VaEtchanan 5872 Deut. 3:23 – 7:11
VaEtchanan 5872
Deut. 3:23 – 7:11
Rabbi Gary Pokras
“You shall the love the Lord your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your stregth.” [Deut. 6:5]
What does it mean to love God with everything we have?
For years I have struggled to find the answer, and to be honest, I still do.
This week instead of offering my own interpretation, I would like to share a poetic reinterpretation of this passage from the Torah, which is commonly referred to as the v’ahavta in the worship service. It comes from the Reform Machzor for Yom Kippur, Mishkan HaNefesh (p. 189)
V’AHAVTA — WHEN YOU LOVE
When you love Adonai Elohecha body and soul
these things I ask of you will be possible:
To answer your children’s questions about Me
and believe your answers yourselves
To connect religion to your everyday
comings and goings …
for example,
when you hug them in bed at night
with tender words –Sh’ma Yisrael
or when you think to say Modeh Ani
in the rush of getting them up and out
in the morning
To be alert enough
to open doors for your children
in every waking moment
and when they dream.
And finally, to remember just why
all these things matter:
They matter because I, Adonai Elohecha,
brought you and your children out of Egypt
to be God for you.
I am your God.
And when you do these things
I will be your children’s God.