Angel for Shabbat

The Torah devotes many verses to describing the building and dedication of the Mishkan, the Israelite’s sanctuary during their 40 years in the wilderness. The Mishkan and its service served as the prototype for the later Temples built in Jerusalem in ancient Israel.

The emphasis on the Mishkan underscores an important aspect of religious life. While God cannot be limited to a particular space, yet, human beings can set aside a place and recognize it to be sacred, a point of connection between humans and the Almighty. Human understanding cannot confront the vastness of God without being overcome with overwhelming fear and trembling. But a sacred space, being limited and comprehensible, enables us to feel a sense of personal connection with God.

A story is told of a dairyman in a small village who used to provide milk to the local population. In order to increase his profits, he decided to dilute the milk with 5% water. People seemed not to notice the difference, so a few months later he added 5% more water. Again, he received no complaints…so he continued to dilute the milk, little by little, month after month. People paid full price for diluted milk…and the milkman was making a nice profit.

The funeral of my Uncle Dave Romey was held in Seattle on Sunday April 7, 2013. For many years, he taught Spanish language and literature—at the University of Vermont, Temple University, and Portland State University.

Wise people have commented on the juxtaposition of the names of the two Torah portions we will be reading this Shabbat. Aharei Mot means “after the death”; Kedoshim means “holy”. My interpretation of the juxtaposition of these words is that we often don’t appreciate the greatness of a person until after he/she dies. After the death, we come to think more carefully about the person’s life, and we come to a deeper recognition of his/her unique qualities.

“You shall make no idols for yourselves, nor shall you raise for yourselves a graven image or a pillar; nor shall you place any figured stone in your land to bow down unto it; for I am the Lord your God. You shall keep My Sabbaths and reverence My sanctuary: I am the Lord” (Vayikra 26:1-2).

The Torah juxtaposes the prohibition of idolatry with the positive commandments to observe Sabbath and revere the Sanctuary. What is the connection between these themes?

The essence of idolatry is to render a false representation of God. Idolatry, at root, is a lie. It purports to limit God to a physical image. It has people worship an image—but not the real God. It focuses on physical image, not on eternal spirit.

When we pray for blessings on ourselves and our families, do we really know if we are asking for the right things?

Sometimes, we may think we very much need a certain blessing—but ultimately, what we think we want actually turns out to be detrimental to us. A short-term “blessing” may indeed be the recipe for a long-term “curse.”

Or, what we may think is very bad for us actually turns out to be a blessing. At first, we think we’ve suffered a terrible setback or defeat; but in the long run, this “defeat” turns out to be a great blessing for us. It offers us an opportunity and impetus to move in new directions, to discover new strengths.

Ancient Greek legend tells of Antaeus, a giant wrestler of incredible strength. He challenged anyone who passed his way to a wrestling match, and he invariably destroyed his opponents. But then Antaeus met a foe that he could not defeat: Hercules.

How did Hercules vanquish Antaeus? Hercules lifted Antaeus off the ground! As long as Antaeus stood firmly on earth, he was unconquerable; but once he was uprooted, his strength left him. Hercules was victorious because he understood that a rootless Antaeus would be sapped of power, unable to stand against the strength of Hercules.

This legend points to an important lesson: people who are well grounded are able to withstand opponents; people who lose their footing, who become rootless, are sapped of power.

Moses appointed a blue ribbon panel representing the top leaders of the tribes of Israel. They were charged with spying the Promised Land and returning with a full report of what the Israelites could expect when they were soon to enter the land.

The twelve members of this panel were the elite of Israel, men of proven leadership.
Yet, this panel came back with a flawed report, representing serious misjudgment. Because of their erroneous evaluation of the situation, the Israelites were condemned to forty years of wandering in the wilderness. An entire generation was lost before the people ultimately were able to enter the Promised Land.

In ancient times, one who came into contact with the dead body of a human being was considered to be ritually impure and needed to undergo a purification process involving the ashes of a red heifer. It should be remembered that it is a mitzvah to care for a dead body and to participate in a proper funeral and burial. Thus, becoming ritually impure was a “normal” fact of life which occurred to almost everyone.

Since it is praiseworthy and a mitzvah to come into contact with a dead body for the purposes of burial, why does one become ritually impure in the process?

This week’s Torah portion begins (Bemidbar 22:2): “And Balak the son of Zippor saw all that Israel had done to the Ammorites.” Interestingly, the Torah doesn’t tell us at this point who Balak is!

The passage then continues with two verses describing how the Moabites feared the advent of the large contingent of Israelites. Only at the end of verse 4 are we informed that “Balak the son of Zippor was king of Moab at that time.” Wouldn’t it have been more logical to tell us from the outset that Balak was king of Moab?

My dear and respected friend, Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo, recently wrote an article about the "relocation" of God. Here is an excerpt from that article.