With a Little Help From My Friends

As you may remember, I do love watching Jewish & Biblical figures playing top-level football. This is a picture of Moses (Victor Moses, then of Stoke City, now I believe recently moved from Inter to Spartak Moscow on loan from the Stamford Bridge folk). And a QPR player (no idea if any but hardcore R's even remember this chap). 

The Torah portion we studied this morning, whose central event is the miracle at the Sea of Reeds, has two images of Moses connected to it that seem quite relevant at the moment. The first comes from midrash - when the Egyptians were about to attack - as R. Adam Greenwald tells it:

"The Israelites gathered at the water's edge, and Moses lifted his hands as God commanded ... and nothing happened. The sea remained still ... then, out of the crowd, walked a solitary figure:  Nachshon, the son of Aminadav, stepped into the water. His family and friends looked on with horror and amazement. They cried:  "What are you doing? Where are you going?" Nachshon walked forward like a man possessed - up to his knees, his waist, his chest. The second the water came up just over his nostrils, the second when he is fully submerged, at that moment and not a second before, the sea split."

I do think this is important for us to consider in our current turbulent times. Do we stay where we are, paralysed by fear of what may happen? Or can we find the courage not only to take a first step, but to keep going? Nachshon appeared to be bonkers. But he was also brave. 

Of course Nachshon, who isn't mentioned at this point of the Torah portion himself, worked alone. There is another perspective presented in the text at the end of the portion:  Moses instructs Joshua to lead the Israelites in battle against Amalek. During the fight, Moses plans to be on the top of a hill, holding the staff of God in his hand. 

So Joshua went into battle, and Moses went up the hill, accompanied by Aaron & Hur. When Moses' hand was up, Israel prevailed; but when his hand went down, then Amalek was on top. So his companions helped him. First they found a stone upon which he could sit, and then they stood either side of him, supporting his hands so they could remain steady until Joshua had won the battle.

This is what is written in our ancient text. And this is what it taught me today:  sometimes we may be Moses, with a difficult task to do; and if possible, it's a pretty good idea to bring back-up with us. And sometimes we may be Aaron or Hur, supporting our friends and helping them through a difficult time. 

With thanks to all who support me, and the hope that any support I offer may be helpful.

Shavuatov. Have a good week.

Parshat Ki Tissa

Since we cannot meet in person at the moment for Shabbat and Festival services, or study together, we thought that even if there is physical distance, there does not have to be spiritual distance (as noted by several of my colleagues this week) and so I wrote a brief comment on the weekly Torah portion, Ki Tissa in the book of Exodus. We posted the Italian version already - here is the English just in case. 

Via San Giacomo today. The banner reads "andrà bene", it will get better.

Parashat Ki Tissa

Greetings from Modena! As we enter Shabbat, here is a thought that came to me while looking at the Torah portion.

“When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, the people gathered against Aaron and said to him, ‘Come, make us a god who shall go before us, for that man Moses, who brought us from the land of Egypt, we do not know what has happened to him.” (Exodus 32:1)

This week, while Moses is up high on the mountain, receiving instructions from God for the life of the community, the people lose hope. Moses has been gone a very long time, and the Children of Israel fear for their future. They cannot wait for him any longer, and decide to make their own god, a god that they can see and touch. This Golden Calf does nothing for them, except get them into trouble.  When Moses does come back down the mountain, and sees what they have done, he smashes the two tablets of stone into pieces. He melts their calf of gold, and makes them drink it. Then, God sends a plague upon the people as punishment for what they had done. Ultimately, they are forgiven, and God offers to replace the tablets of the Law that Moses had broken.

I absolutely do not believe that a pandemic such as Covid19 is in any way a punishment from God for anything any human beings may have done. I don’t think that is the way things work. I cannot give you a reason for why this virus began. But, rather than wasting time looking back and trying to place the blame somewhere, I prefer to think about what we can do now. I think the Children of Israel definitely needed to do something. The problem was that they made a bad choice. We too are waiting. We are also anxious, and  frustrated. So what can we do? What choices will we make?

Later in our portion, God comes down in a cloud, and stands together with Moses saying:  “Adonai! Adonai! A God compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness.” (Exodus 34:6). These words tell us all we need to know.

Our tradition teaches that human beings are made in the image of God. Like God, let us be compassionate and gracious. Let us be slow to anger, and abounding in kindness. If we go to the supermarket, and must wait 47 minutes before it is our turn to enter, let us not show our frustration in how we behave with the other customers and the people at the checkout counters. If we are staying home, let us reach out to others by internet and telephone. Do you know an older person, or someone who lives alone? Give them a call and ask how they are doing. Above all let us try to be patient, and follow the instructions that are designed for the life of our communities, of our country.

We are together. We are Or ‘Ammim.

Shabbat shalom

Rav Ariel, LiOr & Sara the Cat

(if you'd like to see the Italian of this, click here. Thanks to LiOr for all her help!)

Moses is Coming to Italy!

A new shirt for Moses (Photo:  Sky Sports)

My love of football is well recorded on these and other pages. As is, I hope, my love of Judaism. Now and then these two passions intersect, usually in a playful way. For example, it makes me smile whenever Robert Lewandowski (a Polish centre-forward who is a prolific goalscorer for Bayern Munich) celebrates a goal

Hurrah, another goal for Bayern!

because, apart from enjoying his skill and success, he also brings to mind my all-time favourite Jewish liturgical composer Louis Lewandowski.

a pensive moment for Louis Lewandowski

I love hearing a name from the world of religion being uttered in such a diametrically opposed situation as a football pitch.

And so it is that today I celebrate the news that Inter Milan, a top-level Italian football team, has signed (for now on loan, but with the prospect of a permanent move) Victor Moses. I look forward to his exploits, especially as described by Italian commentators!

PS sorry I don't have a photo of Moses son of Jethro from the Torah. Best I can do is this from my Jews with Horns post in 2011

Photo: ravaj 2011

When someone you love is suffering

Posted this week on the LJ website as the Thought for the Week, I try to express something as my sisters and I try to support our mother through the most difficult days:

When someone you love is suffering, and there seems to be little hope, what can you do? The Psalmist says, "Call upon Me in time of trouble; I will rescue you" (e.g. Psalm 50:15). Dear God, I say, please don't let her die. And she does not die. I thank God. But then the next time I pray, dear God, please don't let him die. And he dies. These are the most sincere prayers I've ever prayed, but the outcome is unreliable. Yet, in a time of utmost distress, my instinct is to ask God for help.

What does it mean to pray? I think that we grow up believing that it is like making a wish. We ask God for the things we want. As if God were a fairy GODparent, or a genie. It is the way of a child. But when things are desperate, we become very childlike. We feel utterly powerless, and cry out for a superhero or a parent to swoop down and make it all better. We don't know what to do.

One of the hardest realities to accept is that there are things that we cannot do. Scientifically, in the physical world we cannot prove that anything is impossible, it is just not possible currently. There always remains the hope that one day, someone, somewhere will figure it out. Meanwhile, we just find a working hypothesis, a quotidian path that is universally accessible. For the Jewish community, that route is the mitzvot, a set of guidelines for our relationship with the world around us, and the people we meet on our journey.

Our parasha, Ki Tetze, contains the largest number of commandments in one portion. There are 72 mitzvot (according to Rambam in Sefer HaMitzvot. Other sources say 74) listed this week, laws relating mainly to family relationships and interpersonal ethics, for example, blended families, labour laws and honest business procedures. It says almost nothing about what God will do for us, and focuses on what we humans must do in order to make the best of our lives on this earth. These laws suggest practical ways to deal with everyday situations. There are some that may not make sense, such as forbidding cloth containing wool and linen (shatnez, Deut. 22:11), or stoning a rebellious child to death (Deut. 21:21). As Progressive Jews, we consider these verses a challenge to stretch our minds and hearts in the search for a deeper meaning. We try to understand what doesn't seem relevant, we take on the tasks we believe we can achieve, and we continue along the way.

If what we can manage is in our own hands, why then do we pray? Tradition teaches that prayer is a mitzvah, although it is unclear if this is a biblical or a rabbinical injunction. Once again, it is something practical that we may do. From a rational perspective, if God exists, surely God knows what is in our hearts. So what's the point of saying it? Perhaps God knows, but do we? What have we hidden in the crevices, fearing it may overwhelm us? What do we need to reveal, if we may hope for shalom, to be whole? Surely we pray for ourselves, to release the deepest thoughts and feelings of our souls, to make them concrete, and tangible.

But I prayed that he would not die, yet he did. And now I pray again for her to live. Why am I asking you this, God? Why do I continue to pray?

In the Tanya (chapter 19), Rabbi Schneur Zalman says that faith is not something to be attained. It is part of our essence, woven into the very fabric of the soul. He teaches that faith waits only to be revealed. I've always found this difficult to understand. Today, as I pray for my loved one, I see a possibility. In those moments when desperation fills the heart, there is neither space nor energy for sophisticated thought processes. Logic and philosophy and reason have no power. Could it be, in that exact moment, that the instinct to pray is a taste of revelation?

As Moses prayed for his sister Miriam (Deut. 24:9)

El na refa na la (Num. 12:13)

so do we pray for all who need healing.
Keyn yehi ratson - May such be the Divine will.

For Aviva bat Miriam v'David.

Italian Alias

Those who know me may be surprised that I have been watching some of the Rugby World Cup this week. I'm still mystified by the intricacies of egg-chasing, but understand enough to follow and appreciate the scoring. Old and new connections meant that when some channel-hopping landed me on the fervent singing of the Italian national anthem, I stayed for a bit of Italy vs O Canada.

I was very excited to hear the commentator refer regularly to a player called Edoardo Gori. I know from football experience that famous people often moonlight as athletes, e.g. my favourite composer of 19th century Jewish liturgical music Mr Lewandowski who recently scored 5 goals for Bayern Muenchen, and former leader of the Children of Israel, Moses, who is now scoring goals for West Ham United. It was great to discover that behind the Italian spelling, Mr Edward Gorey is currently giving a Gothic aspect to the world of Rugby Union.

Parshat Vaeira

Here are a few thoughts from last week's Liberal Judaism Thought for the Week about the Torah portion:

Parshat Vaeira

But Moses spoke before the Lord, saying, “Behold, the Children of Israel did not hearken to me. How then will Pharaoh hearken to me, seeing that I am of uncircumcised lips?” (Exodus 6:12)

The time has come for Moses to take his place as leader of his people. God tells him to go to Pharaoh and ask for the freedom of the Children of Israel.  They should be released from bondage and allowed to leave the land of Egypt. Initially, Moses chooses not to accept his mission. The excuse he gives is that since he was unable to persuade the Children of Israel to listen to him, what chance would he have of convincing Pharaoh? He claims he has a physical disability, he cannot speak.

The Midrash tells us that as a baby, Moses was tested by Pharaoh to see if he would be a threat to the kingdom. A golden cup and a blazing coal were placed in front of the child. He naturally reached towards the gold, but the angel Gabriel came down and moved his hand towards the coal. Baby Moses picked up the coal, put it in his mouth, and burned his lips. This was the explanation for his problem in later life.

Moses, however, uses an odd phrase to describe his speech impediment:  aral s’fatayim. Orlah is Hebrew for foreskin, an obstruction over the head of the penis. Thus we might understand the phrase as meaning his lips are somehow impeded by a metaphorical flap of skin. Rashi gives several examples in the Tanach of the root ayin, resh, lamed used to mean clogged or closed. This is to make clear to us that the ‘closing of his lips’ meant that Moses definitely had some kind of speech defect.

Other commentators consider this issue from a less literal perspective. Perhaps not wishing to speak is an example of the humility of Moses. Or this one flaw in Moses would prove that any person he persuaded would have been converted by the purity of the message rather than the sophistry of the speaker. Or that since he had not grown up within the slave community, he did not feel that he could speak for them. One thing is certain, though – Moses doubted his ability to say what should be said.

It is clear from myriad explanations through the ages, that understanding this moment in the history of our people always has contemporary relevance. In the Torah, God solved the problem by enlisting Moses’ brother Aaron to be the speaker (Ex. 7:1). Today we do not expect such Divine intervention. Yet one does not have to be a Moses to be faced with a situation when speaking up may make a difference. It could be something as fleeting as a homophobic slur, a racist remark, or a sexist comment made at work, on the Tube, or amongst our circle of friends. However, so often we also hesitate – is it appropriate? Will it make things difficult? Will it make a difference?

What is it that stops us speaking, and how may we overcome those fears and limitations in order to take our part in developing the world in which we live? While God may not provide us with an Aaron, we do have the resources of family and good friends. Their support can help to overcome the demons of self-doubt and uncertainty that stand in our way. Ultimately, though, the key is to find within ourselves the strength to take the chance. Our words may not be elegant or articulate, but they must be spoken. For while we are not obliged to finish the task, neither are we free to neglect it!

Jews with Horns 1

Do you recognise this sculpture? It is the head of Moses (the guy from the Book of Exodus), as imagined by Michelangelo Buanarroti in the early 16th century. And he has a lovely pair of horns growing just above his brow.

Horns? Like a goat or a devil? From where on earth did that idea come? Wikipedia has a lovely explanation:

"The marble sculpture depicts Moses with horns on his head. This was the normal medieval Western depiction of Moses, based on the description of Moses' face as "cornuta" ("horned") in the Latin Vulgate translation of Exodus. The Douay-Rheims Bible translates the Vulgate as, "And when Moses came down from the mount Sinai, he held the two tables of the testimony, and he knew not that his face was horned from the conversation of the Lord." The Greek in the Septuagint translates as, "Moses knew not that the appearance of the skin of his face was glorified." The Hebrew Masoretic text also uses words equivalent to "radiant", suggesting an effect like a halo. Horns were symbolic of authority in ancient Near Eastern culture, and the medieval depiction had the advantage of giving Moses a convenient attribute by which he could easily be recognized in crowded pictures."

We might deal with that last sentence later, or I could just scream APOLOGETIC and move on. So here's what I know: in Exodus 34:29, Moses comes down the mountain for the second time after getting a new set of tablets, and the Hebrew says "ki karan or panav", i.e., that his face was beaming with light. The verb 'karan' is key here. I know it from traditional Jewish texts as light shining forth, which suggests rays coming from his face.

Perhaps the horn-like protuberances are Michelangelo's attempt to portray such rays. Or not. Because in the 5th century, Jerome (who created the Latin translation of the Hebrew for the Vulgate) made the connection between the verb 'karan' and the noun 'keren' which means horn. This is what he wrote:

"cumque descenderet Moses de monte Sinai tenebat duas tabulas testimonii et ignorabat quod cornuta esset facies sua ex consortio sermonis Dei
(And when Moses came down from the Mount Sinai, he held the two tables of the testimony, and he knew not that his face was horned from the conversation of the Lord.) "

Interesting that the latin word for horns is 'cornuta' ... krn, not unlike 'keren'.

Ok, some people therefore believed that a Jew might have horns. Moses was a good guy, so where's the problem?

Next we turn to the Gospel of John in the New Testament. In chapter 8, a conversation between Jesus and the Jews is recorded. The highlights for me are these three verses:

38 - "you do the things that you have seen with your father"
41 - "you do the works of your father"
44 - "you are of your father the devil and the desires of your father you will do"

Everyone knows that devils have horns. But in case that is not enough, have a look at First Thessalonians 2:14-15:

"the Jews: Who both killed the Lord Jesus, and the prophets, and have persecuted us, and please not God, and are adversaries to all men".

Your bible tells you that the Jews killed your god, that the Jews are the children of the devil, and that their leader had horns. What reason would you have to believe anything different?

AND IT'S STILL OUT THERE. It is a while since the ravaj was a child. However she came home one day from school and asked the father of ravaj why a kid in the playground asked to see her horns. Her father explained the background. She asked what she should answer if it happened again. Her father told her to tell them that she had shaved them for the summer.

the brick testament

moses sees the golden calf
wandering around the tom robinson site (long story) i found a link to pics of bible stories done in lego. actually, they are mostly rather violent. many of the captions refer to the blood shed in the story, e.g. "david decapitates goliath" rather than the usual basic namechecks. i started out liking the idea, and ended up not liking the site. i think you can find it for yourselves at brick testament dot com if you must. on the other hand, i did like the shards in this pic.