Emily's Devar Torah at Netivot Shalom, Baltimore

D’var Torah: Parashat Massei 2011



I don’t understand spectator sports.  Well, I do and I don’t.  Perhaps I understand them a little better in light of this week’s parasha and my preparations for this dvar Torah....

When I was a kid, I didn’t know the first thing about football.  But if you would have asked me who my favorite team was, I was a die-hard Eagles fan.  And a Phillies fan.  And a Flyers fan.  If they were in Philadelphia, they were my team.  On the few occasions I attended sporting events with my family, I screamed and cheered for the home team, and stomped and booed whenever our opponents did something good.  I cheered for our teams like we had some kind of connection or something in common because we all were from Philly.  Except WE were from South Jersey-- Philly was just the closest city with sports teams.  And come to think of it, the players weren’t from Philly either.  They were recruited and traded by the coaches.  They could be from anywhere.  

I wasn’t personally so invested in sports, but when we moved to Boston when I was a kid, my two brothers had intense, heated debates about whether they were supposed to remain Phillies fans or whether now they had to support the Boston Red Sox.  They both acted like their decisions were based on the merits of the actual teams and how well they played, but no one was suggesting they root for the Chicago Bears or the Baltimore Orioles.  It was clearly an issue of identity, and they were trying to figure out where their allegiances belonged. 

My mother had a more global approach to spectator sports.  She didn’t have team loyalties.  She always rooted for the underdog.  When she would come to watch our little league games, she would root for the underdogs even if they were playing against us.  She would stand next to the other moms from our team, and loudly cheer against us in favor of a particularly short and scrawny opponent who would come up to bat.  



My most exciting spectator sport experience ever was when Ross and I first moved to Vancouver in 1996.  The Houston Rockets had won the playoffs the last three years in a row.  This was a big deal for Ross, since he grew up in Houston, and he was a big fan.  Ross’ friend from High School who works for the Rockets got us tickets to see them play against the brand new Vancouver team-- the Grizzlies.  It was the Grizzlies’ first year in the league.  They were definitely the underdogs.  The game was during Ramadan, and Sharif Abdu Rahim, one of their star players, was playing while fasting, and he was amazing.  Ross was torn about who to root for, but when the little David Vancouver Grizzlies beat the big Goliath Houston Rockets, no one in the stadium could contain their excitement.  I felt so proud of our little team that could.  Proud of what, I don’t know.  Did I teach them how to play?  Did I help them train?  Did I bring them gatorade?  We hadn’t even purchased our own tickets!!  But it felt great to be a part of it.  

Was my excitement because now that I lived in Vancouver I considered myself a Vancouverite?  Was it because of my religious sympathies for Sharif Abdu Rahim?  Was it my mother’s propensity to root for the underdog?

While I felt such a part of the excitement that day, I can not understand the fervor that led to massive riots in that same city just a month and a half ago, when spectators overturned cars, looted stores, and set fires throughout the city, injuring dozens of people.  Why?  Because their beloved hockey team, the Vancouver Canucks, made it to the seventh game of the Stanley Cup, and lost.  What were they protesting? Who were they angry at?  Their team played great.  They made it to the 7th game of the Stanley Cup!  The other team just played a little better.  But somehow for these rioters, a piece of their identity was wrapped up in the success of their team, their city-- their people.  Even if their main contribution was to sit in the stands and drink beer and yell, they wanted to be a part of the winning team.  This seems to be a part of human nature.

In this week’s parasha, Bnei Yisrael are planning their entrance into the land of Israel.  The land will be divided up fairly-- larger portions for larger families and smaller portions for smaller ones.  And each  tribe will have their own region.  

The parasha concludes with the sequel to the story of Bnot Tzelofchad.  Two weeks ago in parashat Pinchas, Tzlofchad’s daughters accomplished a major legal coup when they appealed to Moshe in front of the whole people and asked for permission to inherit their father’s land.  Why did they do it?

In Parashat Pinchas, the young women ask:  

לָמָּה יִגָּרַע שֵׁם-אָבִינוּ מִתּוֹךְ מִשְׁפַּחְתּוֹ, כִּי אֵין לוֹ בֵּן; תְּנָה-לָּנוּ אֲחֻזָּה, בְּתוֹ אֲחֵי אָבִינוּ.


Why should our father’s name be lost to his clan, just because he he had no son?  Give us a portion among our father’s kinsmen!


It seems that their intentions had to do with preserving their father’s legacy.  Moshe, after consulting with Hashem, honors their plea and gives them their father’s inheritance.  


In this week’s parasha, leaders from their tribe complain to Moshe that this decision may impact negatively on their tribal land.  If these women inherit the land and then marry into other tribes, the land will go to those tribes..   Considering this point, Moshe devises a solution.  He rules that the women must marry only within their own tribe.  This solves both the family and tribal issues.  It seems to appease the daughters, who follow the new law without complaint.  Not exactly a 21st century solution, but it seems to make everyone happy.  


Leaving the feminist question for another time, what I want to know is, what is the big deal about protecting the integrity of the tribe?!  Aren’t we a nation?  Aren’t we a people?  Didn’t we just suffer together generations of slavery in Egypt, followed by the bonding experience of 40 years of communal survival in the desert, so we could inherit the land of our forefathers and live united under our one G-d?  Everyone’s got all the land they need.  As they intermarry, they can share lands between the new families.  This should only strengthen our peoplehood, no?  


Well, maybe not.  


The entire story of the Torah has been a process of people learning to live with each other.  In the very beginning, the first two brothers, Cane and Abel, couldn’t even manage to share the whole world between the two of them.  It was only with Jacob and his 12 sons that our ancestral family developed any sense of mutual responsibility, and only after some serious sibling rivalry issues.  


At the end of the book of Bereishit, Jacob blesses each of his sons individually, imparting to each the qualities and gifts that will define his tribe's distinct role within the people of Israel; Moshe does the same when blessing the twelve tribes at the end of the book of Devarim, on the eve of the people's entry into the Holy Land. He highlights the distinct qualities each has to offer the Jewish people.  They are all part of the whole, but with unique, individual identities.  In their travels through the desert, each tribe maintains its own leader or "prince," its own encampment in its designated place around the Tabernacle, and its own color and flag.  It would not be easy for people to see beyond these deep tribal allegiances.  Like earlier in the Torah, change would be a process.


According to the Talmud, in Baba Batra 121a, the ruling given to the daughters of Tzelofchad, that women who inherit land could only marry within their tribe, was only in effect for the first generation in the land.  Apparently, once the last of that generation were gone and the Israelites were well established, they were indeed permitted, and perhaps even encouraged, to mingle and intermarry.  Rabbi Yehuda said in the name of Rav that when the ban was first lifted, it was Tu B’Av.  It was the day when, according to the Mishna in Taanit, young women would go out to the fields and dance in white dresses to attract suitors.  The girls would exchange dresses so that each was wearing one that didn’t belong to her.  This ensured that no one would know who was rich and who was poor.  It also, perhaps, disguised their tribe of origin, thus encouraging the assimilation of the Jewish people with each other.  It was like a big premarital draft pick.


Despite the supposed mingling of the people, tribal warfare continued within Israel, and it was only going to get much worse.  While there may have been some intermarrying, some switching teams, there was still a strong sense of tribal loyalty.  


Things got really bad at the end of Sefer Shofetim, when the tribe of Benjamin  fell out of favor with the others due to their Sodom-like mistreatment of a visitor’s concubine.  While their behavior was indeed appalling, the response of the other tribes was a bit over the top.  They vowed to never marry their daughters into the tribe of Benjamin.  They then proceeded to wage war against the entire tribe of Benjamin, and to slaughter all the Benjaminite women and children.  


The other tribes subsequently regretted their harsh response.  They were sorry that because of their vow and their violent reaction, the tribe of Benjamin would soon cease to exist.  There were only men remaining, and no women who were permitted to marry them.  


In an attempt to remedy the problem they had created, the Israelites found a loophole that would enable them to save the tribe of Benjamin.  Their plan is described in Sefer Shofetim, Chapter 21.  They were not allowed to marry off their daughters to the tribe of Benjamin, but they figured that if their daughters were taken without their direct involvement, they would not be guilty of marrying them off.  


They recalled that there is a חַג-יְהוָה בְּשִׁלוֹ מִיָּמִים יָמִימָה


... a yearly festival of the Lord.  The Talmud in Baba Batra suggests that this festival was again Tu B’Av-- apparently the day of tribal mingling and reconciliation.  On that day, the Israelites instruct the Benjaminites:


וְהִנֵּה אִם-יֵצְאוּ בְנוֹת-שִׁילוֹ לָחוּל בַּמְּחֹלוֹת, וִיצָאתֶם מִן-הַכְּרָמִים, וַחֲטַפְתֶּם לָכֶם אִישׁ אִשְׁתּוֹ מִבְּנוֹת שִׁילוֹ; וַהֲלַכְתֶּם, אֶרֶץ בִּנְיָמִן.



They tell them to hide out in the vineyards near Shiloh, and when they see girls coming out to dance, they should grab them for wives and bring them back to the land of Benjamin.  

While this story highlights divisions between the tribes, we see in the end a sort of national loyalty.  It is a story of tribal warfare, but one where in the end, the nation did not want to see one tribe totally disappear. 



The daughters of Tzlofchad were originally looking out for the honor of their father.  They were then willing to compromise regarding who they were allowed to marry for the sake of their tribe.  Ultimately, the law that was designed to protect the tribal estate gave way to a custom meant to encourage national unity.  Why is the family and community loyalty so important?  Who cares on what land everyone would live, as long as they were provided for?  Why couldn’t they just see themselves as part of Am Yisrael?  

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks addresses this question by recalling the universalistic philosophy of the Enlightenment.  He explains that philosophers believed, as many still do today, that the more universal we are, the more advanced we are.  We demonstrate our progress and our sophistication through our universal attachments to humanity.  

Rabbi Sacks highlights the absurdity of this simplistic view by quoting the famous Enlightenment philosopher Montesquieu, who said:

"I would be wrong if I preferred my children to the citizens of my town. I would be wrong if I preferred my fellow citizens of the town to the citizens of France, and I would be wrong if I preferred my fellow citizens of France to my fellow citizens of the universe."


Rabbi Sacks recalls the story of the Tower of Babel.  He argues that when G-d sees the people with a common language and  a common goal building their tower, G-d rejects this notion of the universal human civilisation.  God says "No". That is not human. That is ultimately inhuman. At that point, God comes in, intercedes, takes away their language and, from that moment, humanity is divided into a multiplicity of languages, faiths, cultures, civilizations. Diversity.  It what Rabbi Sacks refers to as the Dignity of Difference, and it’s a good thing.  


When the Jewish people began to intermingle and intermarry among the tribes, this was progress.  Today, when we see Jews from different cultures, Ashkenazim and Sephardim, Ethiopians, Russians, Americans and Israelis, choosing to marry each other, we see this as progress. At the same time, we acknowledge the tremendous value of the preservation of all of these different cultures within our people.  


As we approach Tisha B’Av, when we will mourn the loss of the unity of our people over baseless hatred, let us reflect on how we can honor and celebrate each other’s differences.  


And when we approach Tu B’Av, let us celebrate together all we have in common.  Let us celebrate our diversity together as one people.

It's a Singer Family Vacation

Does it count as an aliyah update if I write about our trip to America?

Singer Family Vacation Rule #1:  If we are purchasing traveller's insurance, we like to get our money's worth. 

 So we made sure to squeeze in our first trip to Patient's First before Shabbat.  Suspected broken foot (but it wasn't).  3 days later, Abaye's doing fine (though we are the proud owners of yet another set of crutches.  Is that really something we should need to PURCHASE?  Anyone want them?)

Meanwhile, Shai is throwing up at Ben's house.  Or he was a few hours ago.  When I went to get him he was sleeping.   Frankly, he's probably better off over there in a house with 2 doctors.  I should send all the kids on over there.  I told Ben's mom that if I still lived here I would insist on taking home so he wouldn't throw up on her furniture, but that we are staying at the Dennens, so it's either her furniture or theirs.  For me it's kind of a wash (no pun intended).  But I was VERY happy to help move him from the leather couch to the blow-up plastic mattress with sheets.  

On my way over there, Rivital (who is staying at Jenny's) called to tell me that she forgot her toothbrush at the Dennens and her laptop charger at the (other) Singers.  I told her she will have to take a number.  Bless her maturing heart, she totally understood.  In fact, she sounded really concerned about Shai.  She said I can take care of her chaufeuring needs tomorrow.  (Aaron, wipe that smug "I told you you would need a car" grin off your face right now!!)  Oh, and Rabbi Wohlberg (if you're out there), thanks for letting us use the BT car!

Singer Family Rule #2: Never (and I mean NEVER) be prepared-- no matter what the damn boy scouts tell you!!

That's why, since I made sure to have our passports and tickets and boarding passes and teudot maavar (like Israeli passports), I arranged to have my drivers license expire.  I planned way advance, having it expire 3 months ago.  Meaning, I suddenly realized (literally on the last flight) that I've been driving around Israel without any kind of drivers license for the past 3 months.  (If you are an Israeli law enforcement professional, I'm just kidding).  

So I spent my first day here (after a good night's sleep) in the DMV (or whatever they're calling it these days).  And of course Laura, who arrived the night before from Eastern Europe, and who has nothing better to do (except take care of her 4 kids, write her PhD dissertation, prepare for teaching in the fall, and plan her upcoming JOFA scholars conference, not to mention preparing for Sunday's big Frank Family Sesame Place extravaganza) drove me there and waited with me.  Though I have to say, the wait was shockingly short, and they literally handed me my completed license as I was sitting there filling out the forms for it.  

So that segues us into Sesame Place, where wet fun was had by all.  We saw all the familiar sites-- The Duckie Slide, The Rambling River, Elmo's World, Abby Caddaby, and men sporting T-shirts with the F-word pushing double strollers.  Many of the clientele had clearly visited the Grover tattoo and piercing booth several times (though we never actually saw the booth itself).

Rivital was being so sweet with her cousin Julia that I wanted to do something special for them, so even though I knew it was going to be grossly overpriced, I told her to take Julia and I would pay for them to get hair wraps.  It was not until they were already wrapped that Rivital realized that this was going to cost...... 

are you ready?.............

Last chance to toss out your guesses.........

SIXTY FIVE DOLLARS!!!!!!!

Seriously.

Rivital hadn't realized because they charged by the inch.  The cost was only $2.   Per inch....

The silver lining (which is actually huge) was that Tali handled it really well.  She came up to me and opened with "Now don't be mad."  She continued with "The wraps cost more than I realized, but don't worry.  I am going to pay for them myself."  I asked how much and she told me.  As I was scooping the bits of my jaw off of the street outside Hoover's Store, Tali reiterated not to worry because she was paying.  It seemed that she was mistaking my uncontrollable, uproarious laughter for anger.  Or perhaps psychosis.  I told her that I had said I would buy the wraps, and I would.  She said (I LOVE this part), "Thanks, but I really think I should pay for at least half!"  I was so impressed that I told her she should go back and get another one.  OK-- no I didn't.  But that would have made a great ending....

Singer Family Rule Number Three:  Take advantage of coed bathrooms.

The Dennens took Adin and me out to Maggie Moos (which if you can't figure it out, is an ice cream store).  All the kids (3 Dennen girls and Adin) have to go to the bathroom.  They are waiting and  waiting at the door.  It is locked and no one is coming out.  Finally, Lew is sure there is no one in there, and asks the girl who works there to unlock the door.  As she opens the door, before you can say "Maggie Moos" or even "Moo," all 4 kids have piled in, and with the door wide open and in full view of all the patrons, Adin has already started to pee.  And we are laughing so hard we can't breathe.  

I'm tired and out of rules, and I anticipate a long fast day tomorrow full of shlepping, so I had better run.  But if I think of any more, I'll let you know.  G'nite!

Love,

Em

Parashat Pinchas

Emily in Print!

Check out Emily's article that she wrote about Rabbi David Bigman that was published in the Jerusalem Post.

http://www.jpost.com/Magazine/PersonalNotes/Article.aspx?id=228366

Emily's Driving Test

Hey gang,

It's been awhile and there is so much to report, but I am trying to be more organized with my entries.  Now that I am looking for work and networking is so important, and people might check out our blog, I need to create the appearance that I am not flighty and scatterbrained.

Which reminds me-- the other day Adin grabbed Shai's head and twisted it to the side.  Then he announced, "Made you look!!"

Now then, where were we?  Oh- right.  Organized and not scatterbrained....

So anyway, I took my driver's test today!! 

Last year, when we had just arrived, and Ross took his test, and I hadn't even gone to Haifa to take care of the paperwork (because, ironically, I was scared to drive there) I joked that even though I have a whole year ahead of me and I'm not working, I will be taking the test on the last possible day.  Well, guess what!  Next week we leave for Baltimore, and when we return it would have been already too late.  So self-fulfilled prophesy fulfilled!  Well, for the sake of intellectual honesty, I must admit that my test was scheduled for the very day before we leave, but he got me in today because of a cancellation.  So I got to enjoy a little wiggle room....

If you recall what happened with Ross, you will remember that the procedure for new immigrants is that first they have a lesson.  Then the instructor, who makes his living from these lessons, determines how many more of them you need.  Just as happened with Ross, the instructor told me in the first lesson that I am clearly an excellent driver.  Then he scheduled our next meeting.  I let him know my time constraint (to test before we leave for America), and curiously, I needed exactly one lesson per week until the test (including one the day of the test-- a total of 3). 

Today he said he would meet me at 10:00 for a lesson (which are usually a half hour), and the test was scheduled for 12:30.  I planned to do a little shopping in between.  At 10:00 we set out for my lesson.  He reiterated that I am a great driver, but warned me about my weaknesses.  The main thing was that I am too aggressive.  I may be aggressive in football and in grocery lines, but no one has ever called me an aggressive driver.  (OK, no one ever called me aggressive in any of those other things either, as if I have even ever played football...).   He was calling me aggressive, as people were honking at me and flying past me because I was driving so slowly, or not pulling out faster into the circles (Beit Shean does love its circles...).  He berated these other drivers, saying aloud (as if they could hear him), "What is your problem?!  Don't you have any patience?!"  That's when it hit me that, while the rest of the world is hurrying to get to work, he is AT work!   So he has nothing to be in a hurry about!! 

Mind you, we are not talking about speeding.  We are talking about approaching the speed limit.  And with the circles, where he says I pull out too quickly, in Boston I would get smashed if I pulled out slowly, the way he suggests.  Or knowing me, I would just sit at the entrance to the circle until  all the other traffic had gone home and gone to sleep before I pulled out.  Downtown, at the circles near where there is some night life, I would still be there today. 

The instructor told me ahead of time to bring my ID.  In true Israel fashion, he left out the fact that I would need 67 shekels in exact change. 

Some of you may remember when I had to take care of paperwork at the hospital after Adin was born and  he was being released after three weeks, someone warned me that whenever you are dealing with Israeli bureaucracy, you need to find out all the papers you will need to bring ahead of time.  Then you need to add anything else you can think of that they could possible ask for.  Finally, you need to keep all the papers with you, and present them only one at a time..  That way they can keep trying to play "Gotcha" ("...and did you bring his brother's third grade midterm report?"), until they are convinced that they can't stump you.  It totally worked, by the way.  We walked out of that hospital with Adin that same day!

So today, the instructor rode around with me for awhile, and then instructed me to pull up behind a truck that was parked in front a bus stop.  The curb was painted in deep red and orange stripes (which around here means "bus stop-- parking forbidden").   There were several cars parked along the curb.  I asked just to be sure, "You want me to pull up here?!  Right behind this truck?!")  He responded affirmatively.  Could this have been a trick?  I didn't ask, because he was busy explaining to me that I need to go into the post office (which was just past a large and not-at-all-full parking lot) to pay exactly 67 shekels in cash to the teller (which somehow, luckily, I happened to have).  He told me to call him when I am finished and he will meet me back there.  At that point I felt a little better, because it seemed that we were just stopping momentarily, and he was going to drive away.  I was thinking this must be permitted at a bus stop, since you can always pull away if you see a bus coming.   This relief was short-lived, however, as he proceeded to lock the door from the outside, and to announce that he would be going to the bank and taking care of some other errands until he hears from me.

I went into the post office, took a number and sat down.  There were four tellers, but it seemed that the numbers weren't moving at all.  I thought about how my zen driving instructor says I need to relax, and I looked around calmly as I settled into my seat with a smile.  This lasted a few moments, until it hit me that if only he would have warned me about this little expedition, I would have brought my book with me, which was sitting trapped in my car at the testing site.  But no matter-- calm... relaxed....  Where did I have to go in such a hurry anyway?  Breathe in.  Breathe out.

The elderly woman sitting next to me,  wearing one of those long ultra-religious frocks with her hair was tied up in a kerchief, contributed to the atmosphere.  Judging from her aggresiveness, she had clearly not had a driving lesson in years.  She began screaming, "What the hell is going on here?!  Is anybody working back there?!"  She glanced over at me, so I nodded and sighed, pretending like the long wait was bothering me too, as I carried on subtly with my blissful meditation.  After my subtle nodding gesture, we apparently became good friends.  She turned to me again and said, "You always gain weight in the summer, because you drink so much.  Although some people say that you gain weight in the winter because you eat more to stay warm.  But I don't think that's right."  I responded cheerily, "I manage to gain weight in the winter AND the summer."  She nodded seriously.

 Then, picking up on my relaxed laid back-ness, she remarked, "Hey, you're from a kibbutz, aren't you?  Which one are you from?"  I said I'm from Maale Gilboa.  She asked if there are a lot of religious people there and I told her that everyone who lives there is religious.  She asked if the women walk around wearing pants and covering their hair.  I said that yes, a lot of people do  that.  She remarked hostilely that they really need to decide whether they are religious or secular.  I pointed out that many rabbis today say women are permitted to wear pants.  She thought for a moment, and then responded that yes, it's true that it really depends on the situation.  Like if her husband says it's OK then she should do it.  I decided I would wait on referring her to the kibbutz membership committee....

Just after that enlightening exchange, my number was finally called and I paid.  I looked around for a bathroom, but there wasn't any.  I thought about walking over to the nearby city center, but I was afraid my instructor would be waiting for me, so I figured I'd call him, and he'd take me back to the mall to wait for my test.  Unbeknownst to me, the plan was actually to pick up another student, and I was to sit in the back seat and glean more wisdom during her lesson. 

I am aware that if I were a normal person, I would have simply mentioned my need to use the bathroom.  But for better or for worse, I am not a normal person.  I have a tendency to get very shy in front of Israelis-- especially Israelis that are likely to yell at me.  OK, OK, I am shy around anyone who might yell at me.  And their cat....  So I relaxed in my seat and made the best of it, hearing again how you shouldn't go the wrong way on a one way street, and you should stop at a stop sign even if it seems like you really shouldn't need to. 

I did, by the way, get up the nerve to ask him why everyone was parked in the bus lane.  His first response was that in Beit Shean people treat traffic laws more like "suggestions."  Without pointing out that he seemed to be one of those people, I asked how it is that so many people were parked illegally in a BUS ZONE.  I mean, don't buses stop there?!  He said that in fact there is no longer a bus route there.  But then he added that in Beit Shean everyone just parks wherever they feel like it, and no one ever gets ticketed for it.  Then he demonstrated this principle when he stopped for several minutes right at the exit of a circle because he ran into a former student and had to say hi, and she had to share with him pix of her new baby.

To make a long story slightly less long, we eventually made our way back to the mall, and we got a five minute break to go to the bathroom and get a drink (I was getting dizzy from dehydration already).  I saw four bus loads of Americans beginning to pour into the mall (way more than could possibly fit in the building-- raise your hand if you've seen the "mall" in Beit Shean...).  I used my aggressive driving techniques to walk through security before most of them, and I ran to  the handicapped bathroom before the crowd could find it.  By the time I came out of the bathroom, there was no chance of getting a drink  in that building before sundown.  Every restaurant was teeming with American tourists.  So I ran across the street and grabbed a drink, and made it back to the test in the nick (knick?) of time. 

The test was pretty uneventful.  Before the tester entered the car (the test was administered in the car of the instructor), the instructor gave a briefing to the tester.  It seems that he was predetermining the outcome.  He had told me before that I shouldn't worry-- he would tell the guy how long I have been driving and that I drive safely.  For me the test was something of a formality.  I don't think I drove for more than 5 minutes.  It was harder for the other girl because she didn't already have a license.  She was a teenager.  She was so nervous she was shaking (it turns out this was her FIFTH attempt), but the driver was super nice, and tried really hard to calm her down.  And in the end, it seems like we both passed.  I don't know about her for sure, since they didn't tell us right away, but the driving instructor had spoken to the tester again afterwards, and he was very encouraging. 

So one more thing taken care of!!  Now all I have to do is find a job.... 

G'nite!

Love,

Em