I had an additional thought over the Sabbath as I read the text of the Torah portion. This is, of course, the portion in which Moses sees the burning bush: "[A]nd behold, the thorn bush was burning with fire, but the thorn bush was not being consumed." (Exodus 3:2)
There are all kinds of commentaries on that passage. Rashi, who lived 1,000 years ago, asked why God chose to show Himself to Moses in a lowly bush, rather than a high tree. The answer: He wanted to show that He was with His people in their suffering, at their lowest point.
Other commentaries say that the bush is a metaphor for the Children of Israel: though we suffer, we are not destroyed.
I have had the thought since the Palisades Fire that although our neighborhood was destroyed, our community was not. We are still in touch through WhatsApp, social media, and in person. We are helping each other. And the people of Los Angeles are also standing with us.
We are the bush that burns, but is not consumed.
Here is the video ...
Hello to all...
It's my 48th birthday on Friday. I realize I've once again managed to do the Torah portion of the week at the wrong time (i.e. last week's portion turned out to be this week's portion). So let me try a different tack.
What a crazy year it's been. In some ways it has been the best year of my life. I put almost all of my self-published e-books on Audible, and one of them -- on Zionism -- will be coming out in print in the fall. I traveled to Israel several times and had incredible experiences. My wife gave birth to a robust baby boy. I'm in the best shape I've ever been in; I've lost 25 lbs. since November. And Trump won the election, again -- which, to me, is an amazing miracle.
But perhaps you know the rest -- the neighborhood destroyed by fire, the home still standing but inaccessible, the frequent moves around L.A., which I have discovered is largely unlivable outside my old Pacific Palisades town.
My wife has moved to D.C. with our baby, ahead of the rest of us. She's the ...
In this week's portion, we read the tragic story of the death of two of Aaron's sons, Nadav and Avihu, who are tragically, unexpectedly killed while offering a sacrifice in the middle of the dedication ceremony for the Tabernacle.
In a sense, their sacrifice is not a punishment but a fulfillment of their duty. This is a theme with philosophical resonance across several other Biblical episodes, as well as across other faiths (notably, Easter is this weekend).
Still, it is a loss with which we struggle, and that we struggle to understand. It must have taken immense fortitude for Aaron to continue the ceremony. In a sense, this is his atonement for his lack of courage in the Golan Calf episode.
This is also the weekend of the culmination of the Passover holiday, when we close out our celebration of the Exodus from slavery to freedom -- and when we look forward to the ultimate exodus during the days of the Messiah.
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This week's portion describes various different kinds of sacrifices brought by the priests in the Temple, as well as the investiture ceremonies for Aaron as the High Priest (Kohen Gadol), which was performed before all the people.
This is also Shabbat HaGadol -- the "Big Sabbath" that precedes Passover, which begins at sundown. (There is a whole discussion in the Talmud, in Tractate Pesachim, about what to do if the Sabbath precedes the holiday.)
The blessings of the Sabbath are considered even more important for a people about to be liberated from slavery. The Sabbath is the ultimate expression of freedom -- freedom from work, and even from worldly cares.
I'd like to share this excellent article by Agam Berger, a freed Israeli hostage who kept up her Jewish observance, to the extent possible, in captivity. Her faith guided her through. For her, the Passover miracle is a lived experience.
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