Revisiting Parshat Vayeshev--Family Matters

This week's parshah is Vayeshev. Several months ago, I posted this drash on the parshah. This week, I revisit my thoughts.
Parshat Vayeshev shows that family matters aren’t for the weak of spirit. The episode between Judah and Tamar at once affirms the value of family and highlights the struggles therein.

I imagine that the readers of this essay are familiar with the story, so I’ll only give a brief synopsis here. Judah promises Tamar that one of his sons will give her a child, but he reneges on the offer. Some time later, Judah sleeps with a prostitute, who turns out to be Tamar in disguise. Nine months later, Tamar gives birth to twins.

This story paints a pretty poor picture of Judah. Recall that it was Judah who convinced his brothers to sell Joseph into slavery, and Judah who is ultimately responsible for deceiving their father, Jacob. This story begins “About that time, Judah left his brothers.” Midrash relates that Judah was in fact running away from home to avoid his shame. When he slept with Tamar, Judah’s wife had just died. He doesn’t even finish his period of mourning, he waits only until “he is comforted.” He condemns Tamar for prostitution, when in fact he solicited it. And in the end, he never outwardly admits that he slept with Tamar. He only admits that he shouldn’t have withheld from her his youngest son. Judah is kind of a jerk.

The Tamar episode cleverly interrupts the Joseph narrative, sort of like an interlude. It shows that Judah’s betrayal of Joseph did not go unpunished. As Judah deceived his father Jacob, so does Tamar deceive Judah. This biblical parallelism fits with the ancient Rabbis’ notion of kav l’kav—that a person’s fate is doled out measure for measure according to their deeds (Visotzky 127). Upon realizing he slept with Tamar, Judah is made to “examine/hakerna” his clothes and “recognize/vayaker” them as his own. The same words are used when Judah shows his father Joseph’s bloodied coat (Plaut 253). Both men fall victim to an article of clothing. And whereas Jacob is made to believe something that is false (that Joseph has died), Judah is made to recognize something that is true (that he has impregnated Tamar). For deceiving his father, Judah inherits a fitting destiny.

And isn’t life often like this? A teenager breaks his parents’ curfew, only to find years later that his own son has similar habits. We accuse our lover of being unfaithful when in fact we harbor lustful feelings. We condemn our colleagues for missing a deadline, only to find that we ourselves have dropped the ball. We blame our friends for screwing up their lives, only to find that we introduced them to the bad habit. The traits we most detest in others are often things we allow or don’t recognize in ourselves.

Tamar, in contrast to Judah, is a clever, strong woman, who plays by her own rules at a man’s game. In Who Wrote the Bible, Richard Friedman argues that Tamar’s wit forces us not to rule out the possibility that the biblical author “J” could have been a woman (86). Tamar plays every card right. She disguises herself from Judah, makes him give her collateral, and then disappears. When the time is right, she exposes Judah in the cleverest way. You can imagine the shock on Judah’s face when she presents his clothing. Tamar reminds us that sometimes it takes the persistence of a friend to show us we have made a mistake.

The story ends with Tamar’s twins fighting over who will emerge first from the womb. Clearly, this is a symbol of family struggle. The story reads like a soap opera, but it sounds like real life. The characters are human, scarred, proud. And despite their drama, from Tamar and Judah will descend King David and the eventual messiah. After all, Judah does redeem himself to Joseph—it is Judah who, in the most earnest way, pleads with Joseph to have mercy on Benjamin. Though our friends and family may hurt us, though we may not recognize our own faults, it is incumbent upon us accept one another. If we take an honest look at ourselves, if we help each other grow, maybe we can learn to forgive. This is the flux between hate and love, the pushing away and the holding tight that binds a family together.

Meet the Faces of Israel

Cross-posted on the Hillel at Emory Blog

Last night, Hillel at Emory partnered with Emory Students for Israel (ESI) to present the Atlanta premier of the critically acclaimed documentary Faces of Israel. The film explores what it means to have a Jewish state. Do the two characterizations — democratic state and Jewish state — work well together? What happens when they don’t?

The event, which drew an audience of about 100 students, faculty, and community members, was organized by Charlie Punia (B‘12). During the screening, the film’s director, Amy Beth Oppenheimer, led an interactive discussion on what it means to have a Jewish state. Audience members had the chance to respond to key issues in the film, share their own opinions, and ask questions to make for a provocative discussion.

“Amy's presentation was extremely informative and relatable. There is a continuous back-and-forth between Israel's progressive society and religious traditions that makes the place so dynamic and thought-provoking.” –Gail Axelrod (B‘11), Co-president, Emory Students for Israel

Faces of Israel is Amy’s first documentary film. While Amy’s passion for film is new, her love of Israel dates back to her first trip there as a young child. Growing up, Amy experienced two distinct types of Israel programming: one that focused on political advocacy, dialogue groups and the conflict, and another that offered falafel and Israeli music on Israel Independence Day. Amy felt that both types of programming had their place, but there wasn’t a lot of meaningful content offered in between. One of her motivations in creating Faces of Israel was to create an internal discussion piece for the community to explore the nature of the Jewish state and questions of Jewish identity in a real and thoughtful way.

“I thought this was a unique event. To hear a lecture about Israel is one thing. To show a film is another. But to have the director come, to share her insights, to lead an interactive conversation really deepened my understanding of the film.” –Charlie Punia (B‘12)

Amy screened three chapters of the film. In each chapter, the film shows her interviews with Israelis from across the political, religious, and social spectra — from ultra-orthodox couples to an openly gay student at the University of Haifa, from new olim to Sabra nationalists, and from the rabbi of Progressive congregation Kol HaNeshama to Israel’s Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi. The interviews raise questions like: How, if at all, should Jewish tradition influence Israeli law? Should the Chief Rabbinate represent the views of all denominations for Judaism? Should civil unions and same-sex unions be legalized in Israel?

“These are important questions that often get over-shadowed by the conflict. I think the audience got a more in depth look at Israeli society and learned a lot from the film.” –Sarah Green (C ’11), Co-president, Emory Students for Israel

This event was made possible in part by Masa-Israel Journey, The David Project, and Emory College Council.

What Hillels Can Learn from Hillel

Last night, I went to the MJCCA Book Festival, where Joseph Telushkin was discussing his new book Hillel: If Not Now, When? The book is a fascinating examination of the teachings of the ancient sage Hillel.

Telushkin argues that although Hillel is among the most famous rabbinic personalities, rarely do we actually live-up to his philosophies. There’s a well-known and oft-quoted story where a gentile asks Hillel to convert him, but on condition that Hillel teach him the whole of Torah while the gentile is standing on one foot. Hillel famously replies: “That which is hateful unto you, do not do unto your neighbor. The rest is just commentary. Now go and study.” From this response, we can conclude that for Hillel, the essence of Judaism is ethical behavior. Telushkin points out, however, that when we think of Jewish religiosity, we primarily think of ritual, not ethical, observance. We’re likely to say:

“‘He keeps kosher, he keeps Shabbat; yes, he is religious,’ or ‘She doesn’t keep kosher, she doesn’t keep Shabbat; no, she’s not religious.’ It is virtually inconceivable that you would overhear the following conversation:

‘Is so-and-so religious?’ 

‘Oh, definitely.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because he’s very careful never to embarrass anyone, particularly in public. And he always judges other people fairly.’”

Clearly, we’ve lost sight of Hillel’s ethical essence of Judaism. Hillel, the foundation for Jewish campus life, can learn from the ancient sage’s wisdom. We should be careful not just to nourish our students’ religious and cultural growth, but also their social and ethical growth. This could take the form of emotional intelligence workshops, values clarification exercises, or sexual assault prevention seminars. I could also imagine conversations on Jewish perspectives on contemporary ethical questions--gay rights, end-of-life issues, abortion, and others.

For more on how the organization Hillel got its name, visit the Hillel at Emory blog.

Wrestling with Israel

The following is in response to a short essay question on the application to HUC's rabbinical program.
As a living, evolving movement, Reform Judaism has the potential—perhaps more so than other movements—to affect how Jews think about Israel. The state of Israel represents a pinnacle moment in Jewish history. The reality of Israel represents a shift in the Jewish national psyche—from scars and victimization to self-determination and national sovereignty. For the first time since antiquity, there is a Jewish country! We sometimes don’t even fully appreciate the gravity of this statement! It’s the displaced family back under their own roof. It’s the shards of vessels reassembled. It represents an opportunity to live-out the Jewish ideal—where we seek justice, where we sanctify time, where we nurture our relationships, where we value intellect, learning, and creativity.

Many Diaspora Jews have lost sight of this ideal. As the largest and most liberal American movement, Reform Judaism is poised to change how Israel and the Diaspora interact. From conversations with students, young Jewish friends, colleagues in Hillel, campers and staff at Reform Jewish camps, and with my own family, I’ve seen the conflicted feelings American Jews have about Israel. My mom, when she thinks about Israel, feels heartache. During the second Lebanon war, she told me how sad she was that so many people—Israeli and Lebanese—had to die so senselessly. My coworker at Hillel thinks of herself as pro-Israel, but then immediately cites the Arab-Israeli she knows who sends his children to Israeli schools because the Arabic-speaking schools are so underfunded.

Jewish leaders need to learn to understand the ambivalence of American Jews not as a threat but as an opportunity. Learning about and wrestling with Israel is a strong Jewish identity-building tool. Israel, by its very existence, offers the opportunity to engage in conversations that are important to Jews no matter where they live. Questions like: Who decides who is and who isn’t a Jew? What does it mean to be patriotic? Am I first a Jew, first an American, or first a citizen of the world? What level of religious practice will I adopt for my family? How do the stories of my parents and my grandparents affect who I am today?

If Jewish leaders want to make Israel relevant, they must find ways to bring precisely these questions to the forefront of Israel education. Rabbis, educators, and communal professionals must not try to rationalize or distract from the issues their constituents feel about Israel. Rather, they must embrace those issues and use them as opportunities for self-exploration. If Arabic-speaking schools are underfunded, let’s use this issue as a launch pad for serious discussion on the Jewish ethic of education. Let’s use our curiosity to explore disparities within our own school districts. Let’s support organizations that promote universal education, like Urban Arts and Books for Africa. Let’s work to make education in Israeli schools more equal across the board, not just between Israelis and Arabs, but across the social classes.

The Reform rabbi—as teacher, as model—must recognize the value of questioning. We must not ignore the challenges Israel presents, but rather embrace them as opportunities to better our world. Like our forefather Jacob, for whom our people are named, we must give ourselves a little room to wrestle.