Friday, July 28, 2017

Shabbat Thoughts- Parshat Devarim- 5777




We are engulfed in words. Facebook ,Twitter, Google in our pocket; the capacity to generate thousand of words- and if we don't like them we delete them and remove tweets and posts. Our celebrities  and politicians speak and we hang on every word.  And if and when we learn that they have acted or spoken immorally, illegally, cruelly or rashly they withdraw their statements and additionally, their sponsors disavow their (former) clients. Client and promoter assert that words were taken out of context or did not have meaning.  We become accustomed to the erasure of words. Sooner or later we end up thinking that words don't really matter.

Judaism disagrees. Words do matter. Every word that you and I share in spoken and written form bears the power to harm, to heal, to destroy  and to mend. We need to guard our words. This is why promises occupy such a significant place in Jewish life. Our promises  are a shared commitment- a commitment that the ideas expressed by words are very real.

DAVAR is the Hebrew word for ‘word’. Davar also means a ‘thing’.  A word is a thing and a thing occupies as much space and time in our universe as a word. So significant is this perspective that the fifth and final volume of Torah is named Devarim which means “these are the words “ (“these are the things”) Moses was speaking about as he anticipated his death and recognized that the Israelites, about to  enter the Promised Land, were starting an entirely new journey. His last words needed to be as real for them as the journey upon which they were about to embark. Our words need to be as real as our daily life as we continue along our life’s journey. The first step in making our Devarim real is to articulate them properly; whether offered in prayer, in laughter, in tears, in discussion or in argument.
     May we choose our words with care.

Shabbat Shalom.
Rabbi Steve Silberman

Friday, July 21, 2017

Shabbat Thoughts- Haftart Mattot-Masei- 5777





The ‘Dog days of Summer’ are upon us. Named by the ancient Greeks for Sirius, the dog star obediently following on the heels of Orion, which appears at this time of year, has nothing to do with summertime heat. The heat and light we experience are due to our own sun. Even as excessive heat weakens us, light elevates our moods. Contrast long days of light with wintertime blues and blahs. Light perks us up. Remember Annie's incomparable “Tomorrow” which voices the need for optimism. Light is the promise of hope and hope sustains our hearts when we confront loss and sorrow. 
       Psalm 23 is often associated with loss because of the phrase ‘though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.’ The word death has catapulted Psalm 23 to a special prominence associated with funerals and memorial services. The original Hebrew phrase is better understood ‘even as I walk in the valley of darkness, I will not fear that which is bad because you,God, are with me.’  It is plausible that medieval Christians did not understand an unusual Hebrew word found in Psalm 23. The long Hebrew word TZALMAVET means darkness but there are two separate Hebrew words Tzal  (shadow)and mavet (death). Likely, the King James interpretation of Tzal + mavet  of the Psalms became set in English for the past 5 centuries instead of TZALMAVET and we are all more familiar with a mistranslation than the more accurate understanding of  the original Hebrew. Thus, the Hebrew wording of Psalm 23 conveys an optimistic message. Darkness is temporary and will be followed by light. Hopefully, we can see the light yet to occur in our lives. I mention this, not only to correct a mistranslation which has taken hold of many English-speaking people, but also because the same word TZALMAVET occurs in this week’s Haftarah.
        Jeremiah calls out to his own people 2,500 year ago challenging those who think of themselves as sources of ultimate power as opposed to God. In modern words Jeremiah might be asking “Are you capable of illuminating darkness that overtakes the frail and vulnerable human spirit?” I would offer my own comment - ‘Don’t we all need to recognize that something greater than ourselves exists in this world and beyond this world?’ 
 For me, sunsets, as well as other phenomena, daily remind me of my lack of power. As the sun gives way to darkness and incomparable colors are splashed across the heavens, I see the handiwork of the creator. Jewish tradition names this creator God - the sole, responsible initiator of all creation by the first unforgettable words of ‘let there be light’. Light chases away darkness both of night and of fear. May we all allow ourselves the humility to accept support from outside ourselves, from people and from a source as remote and as close as the stars themselves. 
 Shabbat Shalom. 
Rabbi Steve Silberman