What did we hear at Sinai?  What does God want us to hear?

When it comes to the enslavement of Jews, God gives us two imperatives. First, strive to be like God. Failing that, resist the temptation to become like the Egyptians.

The psalms attached liturgically to each day of the week are often mumbled over quickly, without much attention to their meaning. In this series, we'll engage in careful literary-theological readings of these psalms, looking at how various midrashim interpret the psalms, and bring new meaning to this part of our daily prayers. Key themes explored will include the idea that God creates the world by subduing the chaotic forces that threaten life; the notion that a concern for justice is what makes a god "qualified" to be one; and the question of what kind of character those who seek to live in God's presence must have. Recorded in Fall 2023. 

Source sheet: https://mechonhadar.s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/mh_torah_source_sheets/HeldShirimFriday2023.pdf

What makes Lag Ba’Omer, the 33rd day of the Omer, special?  Why has this day become an oasis of relief, and even celebration, amidst the generally mournful period between Pesah and Shavuot?  The Talmud tells us simply that one year, R. Akiva’s 24,000 students all died between Pesah and Shavuot; a post-talmudic tradition asserts that the plague that felled them came to an end specifically on the 33rd day of the Omer.  Something about this day ended the catastrophe that befell these second-century sages.

Parashat Emor features two types of ritual buildings: the first, the mishkan (tabernacle), later transformed into the beit ha-mikdash (Temple); and the second, a sukkah.  

We encounter the mikdash this week, mostly in the form of limits on who may serve in it and how they must conduct themselves.  Those who may serve there are not allowed to engage with the world as other Jews are: kohanim (priests) are not permitted any contact with the dead, except for their closest relatives.  The Kohen Gadol may not even become impure through contact with the dead for his closest relatives—even his mother, even his father.

When you stop to think about it, Pesah Sheini is a very strange holiday, with a motivation that would be incomprehensible for almost any other festival.  As we read in Bemidbar 9, some people were ritually impure on the 14th of Nisan—the eve of Pesah—and therefore unable to perform the foundational mitzvah of slaughtering and eating a paschal offering.  They ask for a second chance, and God grants it: On the 14th of the following month, Iyyar, they may slaughter their lamb.

Yom Kippur, depending on who tells its story, is animated by one of two central wounds.

The Talmud teaches us that God is a God of truth who it would seem values honesty. Yet, what does that mean for all of our questions and doubts? Is there a limit to how honest we can be and are there situations in which another value trumps honesty for the sake of something greater? This class, which is part 1 of a 3 part series, will turn to Talmud, midrash, and poetry to explore intellectual honesty, accuracy in language, and the role of questions in our relationships with God. Recorded in Winter 2025.

Source sheet: https://mechonhadar.s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/mh_torah_source_sheets/StrausbergGodOfTruthPart12025.pdf

Each of us was brought into this world by someone who allowed their body to become home to a stranger. 

This is what mothers do before we meet our children: watch, sometimes in wonder, and sometimes in grief, as the bodies which were once ours alone grow, bend, ache, and change in ways that make us unrecognizable to ourselves.  Feel our ribs widen, our bodies force themselves apart, to create room for new life.  Bind ourselves to a person whose face we have never seen.

Although it eventually won out, it was not always obvious that “Hatikvah” would be the Israeli national anthem.  There were other competitors, and various critiques of the poem written by Naphtali Hertz Imber.  Among those critiques was a voice from at least some religious Zionists who thought the work too secular to reflect the religious import of the new state.  Some advocated instead for Psalm 126 (often known as Shir ha-Ma’alot), as the national anthem.