Noach: automata
Noach: Automata
Parshath (the chapter of) Noach is written in a disturbing voice.
וַיַּ֧רְא אֱ אֶת־הָאָ֖רֶץ וְהִנֵּ֣ה נִשְׁחָ֑תָה כִּֽי־הִשְׁחִ֧ית כׇּל־בָּשָׂ֛ר אֶת־דַּרְכּ֖וֹ עַל־הָאָֽרֶץ׃ {ס}
Noach: Automata
Parshath (the chapter of) Noach is written in a disturbing voice.
וַיַּ֧רְא אֱ אֶת־הָאָ֖רֶץ וְהִנֵּ֣ה נִשְׁחָ֑תָה כִּֽי־הִשְׁחִ֧ית כׇּל־בָּשָׂ֛ר אֶת־דַּרְכּ֖וֹ עַל־הָאָֽרֶץ׃ {ס}
Bereshith: Creationism
The first chapter of the Torah ends with the creation of Shabbath. It ends with a passage that is repeated in the Friday night liturgy, the prayers that welcome the Shabbat. (Translation modified from Metsudah, 2009)
וַיְכֻלּ֛וּ הַשָּׁמַ֥יִם וְהָאָ֖רֶץ וְכׇל־צְבָאָֽם׃
The heavens and the earth were completed, and [so were] all their conglomerations.
וַיְכַ֤ל אֱ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִ֔י מְלַאכְתּ֖וֹ אֲשֶׁ֣ר עָשָׂ֑ה וַיִּשְׁבֹּת֙ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִ֔י מִכׇּל־מְלַאכְתּ֖וֹ אֲשֶׁ֥ר עָשָֽׂה׃
E blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, for on it [Gd] abstained from all [Gd's] work, which E had created to do.
Suckot: Playing
Each of the three Jewish pilgrimage festivals has a temporal, thematic name. Passover is the time of our Liberation. Shevuoth is the time of the giving of our Torah. Succoth (along with Shmini Atzereth) is the time of our Rejoicing. These titles have a seasonal element. The physical atmosphere, the temperature, humidity, precipitation, the alignment of the stars are evocative. On Passover, we are liberated from the shelters necessitated by the cold and rain of winter. On Shavuot, when spring is at its peak, the blossoms are an invitation to enlightenment: The tree of knowledge and the tree of life are in bloom. On Succoth, after 40 days of contrition and self criticism, as the confinement of winter closes in, it is time to play.
Rejoice has a very sedate overtone in common English speech. It is a low impact word. That fits with the prescriptions of the medieval scholars: feasting. You may gain weight, but the risk of shame is small. For me, rejoice is too confining. Let's have fun. Let's play!
On Succoth we do very unusual things. We sit in the sukkah, a structure that is a minimally effective shelter by design. Section 625 of the shulchan aruch ( code of Jewish Law) is unusual.
בסוכות תשבו שבעת ימים וגו' כי בסוכות הושבתי את בני ישראל הם ענני כבוד שהקיפם בהם לבל יכם שרב ושמש: ו:
In Succot we shall dwell for 7 days etc. Because on Succot I protected the children of Israel. These refer to the clouds of glory who protected them from all the intense heat and the sun of the desert
This is a unique paragraph of introductory explanation. The rest of the code is details, the required or desirable objects and actions that are necessary to fulfill Commandments that are stated, but almost never explained. In addition, this is a cryptic and partial explanation.
When I sit in the sukkah, it generates waves of feelings. The sense of fulfilling the details of a Commandment that I do not understand is a big part of it. In terms of the feelings, I recall the horrible conditions that my parents lived under during the holocaust. They lived in a hole in the ground covered by a lattice of leaves that served both as camouflage and a meager protection from the elements. The protective element was identical to the function of the sichach, the covering, of the sukkah. But they did not have the option of going into a real house if it rained or snowed. that lattice of leaves was all they had all the time
That projection into the history of my parents blends into an identification with the people who live in tents. When my parents lived underground, they were homeless, they were hunted criminals. they were certainly undesirables. How can I turn this moment of sympathy into ongoing kindness?
Now, as we anticipate the release of the Hamas hostages, I can touch the conditions of torture that was their lives for so long. I also see the massive destruction of shelter for Gazans and their lives in tents, or less than tents.
I can relate the explanation in the code to the feelings. In a sense, all people are unprotected all the time and it is only by the grace of Heaven if they survive the elements. But that still leaves me searching for my role.
When I sit in the sukkah, I'm fulfilling a set of Commandments that I do not understand. The lack of understanding is an important element of the experience to me. It is a reminder of how many things I do without understanding. The sukkah is one of those many things that has many rules and I merely follow those rules. it is a kind of game. it is part of the joy
I very much enjoy the opening lines of the tamudic tractate that deals with the holiday :
סֻכָּה שֶׁהִיא גְבוֹהָה לְמַעְלָה מֵעֶשְׂרִים אַמָּה, פְּסוּלָ
A sukka that is more than twenty cubits high is unfit.
What a great detail! The talmud relates this height rule to the height of the temple entrance. At one point, the talmud deals with the geometry of the rays of the sun and how they are blocked by the walls of the sukkah and how much filters through the sichach. It becomes a lesson in geometry and I find that appealing.
The lulav and ethrog are also marvelous Mysteries .The verse reads :
וּלְקַחְתֶּ֨ם לָכֶ֜ם בַּיּ֣וֹם הָרִאשׁ֗וֹן פְּרִ֨י עֵ֤ץ הָדָר֙ כַּפֹּ֣ת תְּמָרִ֔ים וַעֲנַ֥ף עֵץ־עָבֹ֖ת וְעַרְבֵי־נָ֑חַל וּשְׂמַחְתֶּ֗ם לִפְנֵ֛י יְ
you shall take the product of hadar trees, branches of palm trees, boughs of leafy trees, and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before your Gd
Somehow this activity with the four species is also a source of joy. For me it is a joy, but I cannot explain it to myself. Holding and shaking these plants - the lulav stick; the rapidly decaying willow branch; the sturdier, brighter, more appealing myrtle; and the intricate, delicate citron is a pleasure. Perhaps, it is an acquired taste. The desperate turmoil of the market to purchase these objects generates some of the satisfaction. I hold these objects that are appealing to others. It is a win.
Then I get to shake them in a prescribed way: when I thank Gd for the goodness and kindness bestowed. I also shake the stick when I plead for rescue. I hold these objects during the Hoshana parade, as I repeat an alphabetized plea that is so mysterious, it is not translated in my prayer book. The mystery adds so much to the fun.
The meaning is what we add to these actions. Think hard. Feel deeply. Enjoy!
Ha'azinu: The ups and downs
This is the great epic poem.
The song is introduced in the previous parsha :
וְ֠הָיָה כִּֽי־תִמְצֶ֨אןָ אֹת֜וֹ רָע֣וֹת רַבּוֹת֮ וְצָרוֹת֒ וְ֠עָנְתָה הַשִּׁירָ֨ה הַזֹּ֤את לְפָנָיו֙ לְעֵ֔ד כִּ֛י לֹ֥א תִשָּׁכַ֖ח מִפִּ֣י זַרְע֑וֹ כִּ֧י יָדַ֣עְתִּי אֶת־יִצְר֗וֹ אֲשֶׁ֨ר ה֤וּא עֹשֶׂה֙ הַיּ֔וֹם בְּטֶ֣רֶם אֲבִיאֶ֔נּוּ אֶל־הָאָ֖רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר נִשְׁבָּֽעְתִּי׃
and the many evils and troubles befall them—then this poem shall confront them as a witness, since it will never be lost from the mouth of their offspring. For I know what plans they are devising even now, before I bring them into the land that I promised on oath.
The poem is structured with an introduction, followed by the (undeserved) blessing, which generates no recognition of the donor. The abandonment of GD, the provider, leads to Gd's withdrawal. In the absence of a benevolent national deity, the nation is conquered, exiled, subjugated. The arrogance of the oppressor, their failure to see the hand of heaven in their conquest, leads to Gd's wrath and the reinstatement of the covenant with Israel, the happy ending. Or the beginning of another cycle.
In the poem we can see an accurate description of the past. There is, nevertheless, room to doubt its predictions for the future. There is no clarity about the length of time for the periods of prosperity and persecution. We look to external signs of change. The poem attributes the falls to haughtiness. The equations are solvable only from the Divine perspective. We are trapped in a description that we understand only vaguely.
In the poem, Gd expresses a sense of abandonment. The people have turned to non-gods. The true Gd lets them have what they have chosen and hides from them, allowing unrestrained physics and statistics to rule. This, eventually, devolves into tragedy. The tragedy evokes Gd's pity and an examination of the arrogant persecutors. Israel is restored. Until the next fall.
Should I believe that the cycle will end? That it will end favorably?
The coda is disturbing. Moshe is told that his turn will not end so well. He will not be allowed into the land, he must die after a view  from a mountain top.  The text tells us the reason for Moshe's disappointing  punishment: 
עַל֩ אֲשֶׁ֨ר מְעַלְתֶּ֜ם בִּ֗י בְּתוֹךְ֙ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל בְּמֵֽי־מְרִיבַ֥ת קָדֵ֖שׁ מִדְבַּר־צִ֑ן עַ֣ל אֲשֶׁ֤ר לֹֽא־קִדַּשְׁתֶּם֙ אוֹתִ֔י בְּת֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃
Because you were unfaithful to Me amid Bnei Yisroel at the waters of argument at Kodeish in the Tzin wilderness; because of [the fact] that you did not sanctify Me amid Bnei Yisroel.
Moshe's transgression was the sin that is at the heart of the Ha'azinu poem: failure to credit Gd. The episode is described only vaguely, and in the context of Moshe: the liberator, the law giver, Gd's intimate, the sin seems small. But perhaps the poem reflects how large that sin was. Perhaps Moshe was accidently, only slightly carelessly, teaching the people this lack of gratitude, this belief in self. Then the sin was not so small. It is part of the heavy burden of leadership.
Regardless, the punishment of Moshe demonstrates the standard to which a person is measured. It is impossible. We all deserve the downfall. We can only rely on Gds' grace and pity. Fortunately, those are usually available. We are charged to appreciate them.
Vayelech: The Next Phase
The word that starts this parsha, and the word it is named for is וַיֵּ֖לֶךְ, vayelech. This font does not capture the picture of the word. Lamed is the letter that extends the highest above all other and the end chaf is the letter that goes down the lowest. Calligraphically it is a full stop, a barrier, a word of great significance. The word is translated: and (Moshe) went.
Rashi's comment on the word is quite brief, possibly cryptic:
וילך משה. וגו':
Nitzavim: Taking a stand for truth
The parsha opens with:
אַתֶּ֨ם נִצָּבִ֤ים הַיּוֹם֙
Ki Thavo: Arriving
The annual Torah cycle brings us to Ki Thavo in the fall, as the calendar year fades, as the high holidays approach. In the Northern hemisphere, the natural world shows signs of aging: the leaves have their fall colors, animals prepare for hibernation. The seasons are a cycle, but fall, as the days become shorter, feels like the beginning of the end. It is the threshold of the final arrival.
Moses knows that he will die when Israelites enter the promised land. He delivers his strongest prophecy, predictions of destruction and glory, that have palpably come to pass.
Historical records have become increasingly detailed. When the Torah was written, the parchment and scribal services were so expensive that only sparse details could be preserved. Printing expanded the view. The camera and the movie brought immediacy. The film footage of the holocaust does not capture the scope of the horror; most of the abuses and murders were hidden. The viewer needs to multiply the visualized horror by an unfathomable factor. Now, with AI's ability to create images, there is a significant danger of deception - and multiplying the deception out of habit.
The first chastisement is confusion. The detailed description is introduced:
אֶת־הַמְּאֵרָ֤ה אֶת־הַמְּהוּמָה֙ וְאֶת־הַמִּגְעֶ֔רֶת
The curse, the confusion and the ….
הַמִּגְעֶ֔רֶת ( Hamigereth) is a unique word that appears only once in the canon text (a hapax legomenon).
Rashi translates
המארה (hama’eyrah) means PAUCITY and המהומה (hamihumah) A TERRIFYING SOUND.
Rashi does not translate הַמִּגְעֶ֔רֶת. (Hamigereth)
Targum translates the word: מְזוֹפִיתָא (mizofitha): frustration, vexation. Perhaps this is a reflexive translation. It reflects the frustration of translating a word that appears only once.
This ambiguity of the word begins to convey the horror. After a curse and confusion, there is something bad, probably worse, coming and what it is... is unclear. Obscurity and uncertainty add to the dread. Trepidation is possibly the worst emotion I have felt.
This is the season of apprehension. The world is changing around us. It gets colder. The leaves fall. The weather is more unpredictable. We begin selichoth, the extra prayers begging forgiveness for what we have done and what we have failed to do. We use this prayer formula because we are not sure that we remember or recognize all of our errors and failings. We do not understand how Gd answers our prayers. Will we suffer for our own good? How will we fit into the Big Plan?
The degradation and destruction and desolation described in the parsha is national, not individual. Personal suffering is subsumed into the collective. Is there an obligation for the individual to move the nation toward good? It would seem so. Failure leads to personal pain and the torture of watching others suffer.
For me, the GOOD is confusing. Torah is a nationalist treatise that favors the Israelite although it affords some rights to most other peoples. I grew up in the USA. I was taught that the tolerance value: respect for all people is the saving grace... and my family was the beneficiary of that grace. As I have learned more, I am skeptical about the practice of that tolerance value... and in the current era, it seems to be dying. To me, tolerance remains an appealing value...something to fight for.
The curse is presented as a progression. It starts with natural disasters – drought and disease - and progresses to defeat , exile and subjugation. The atrocities described evoke the holocaust. It is distressing that this ancient text, describing the most repulsive scenes Moshe can imagine, does not quite equal the reality of Poland in 1942.
How did this text prepare the Jews in the Eastern European exile? When the persecution came, did they see it as the expected fulfillment of the prophecy? Did the passage, heard (by many) innumerable times since childhood, add a sense of familiarity to the persecution? Was there some comfort in the prediction? Did it make the nation more cooperative and thus help the evil enemy?
Today's daf yomi (Horayoth 12a) relates to the parsha. One of the last kings of Judea, יְהוֹאָחָז, Yeho-ochaz, was anointed, presumably with the anointing oil that Moses had formulated and has been preserved for such occasions. But the gemarrah argues that the authentic anointing oil had been sequestered:
But isn’t it taught in a baraita: When the Ark of the Covenant was sequestered, the anointing oil, and the jar of manna (see Exodus 16:33), and Aaron’s staff with its almonds and blossoms (see Numbers 17:23), and the chest that the Philistines sent as a gift to Israel, were all sequestered...
And who sequestered the Ark? Josiah, king of Judea, sequestered it, as he saw that it is written in the Torah in the portion of rebuke: “The Lord will lead you, and your king whom you shall establish over you, unto a nation that you have not known” (Deuteronomy 28:36). He commanded and the people sequestered them,...
The prophetic prediction of the downfall of the Jewish monarchy motivated the removal of the equipment needed for its validated continuation. Was this an act of hope for a better, but distant, future? Was the anointing oil hidden to prevent the recognition of pretenders to the throne?
I worry that the current crest in the cycle, the glory period, is ending. I always enter this season: selichoth, fall, end of the year - with trepidation. This year, quite a bit more.