Ta Shma

Parashat Tzav opens with an image of constancy, the fire on the altar that always burns, never extinguished. The unextinguished fire is not just practical, burning sacrifices throughout the day and fats throughout the night; it represents an ongoing and unwavering connection between the people and God. Yet, an honest religious life involves flux, times when we do feel strong connection and times when we don’t.

The first verse in Vayikra seems mundane and predictable; God speaks to Moshe in the mishkan (tabernacle), as God does throughout much of the Torah. Yet, the call of Vayikra is an unexpected gesture of intimacy. Through this lens, the whole book of Vayikra represents an invitation into relationship across apparent obstacles and boundaries. Vayikra asks of us: what are the ways in which we feel distant from God or others? What does it mean to hear a call beckoning us close in those very moments of distance?

How can Avraham bear to sacrifice his son Yitzchak without any show of emotion or despair? Dena Weiss offers an explanation to this question, using midrash to view the text through an emotional lens. This lecture was originally delivered as part of Hadar’s Summer Learning Retreat in June 2021.

The Book of Shemot ends in a striking tension: God’s presence fills the mishkan but also precludes Moshe from entering. Having shepherded the people into relationship with God, and having fought so hard to maintain that, Moshe now faces the possibility that the terms of his own relationship with God have drastically changed, as he is shut out of the mishkan. What can we learn from the model of Moshe about how to adapt to unexpected twists and turns in our own roles and relationships?

In rabbinic midrash, Moshe brings his case for immortality to God. What does Moshe argue and why does he believe he should be exempt from death? As R. Elie Kaunfer guides us through a text from Devarim Rabbah, we learn not only about Moshe’s fear of mortality, but also about our own anxieties around death and running out of time. This lecture was originally delivered as part of Hadar’s Summer Learning Retreat in June 2021.

There is a classic debate about the order of the Torah with respect to the passages about the mishkan (tabernacle) and the golden calf. In one view, it was written in order, with God’s intention for the mishkan derailed by the people’s sin, but ultimately restored as they achieve forgiveness. In the other view, the text is out of order, and the mishkan came only in response to the people’s sin. When we integrate the insights of both sides of this debate, we land on a third approach that emphasizes the power of taking initiative in relationships, even though we aren’t certain what to expect.

For most of the week, and most of our lives, we devote ourselves to the hard work of slowly getting closer to what we most hope for and long for, in terms of who we can become, the relationships we have, and what our world can be. We are always aware of the work that remains to be done. We take a break from this work on Shabbat, not just because we are tired and need time off, but to bring a sense of our true selves into clear focus, and to know that what feels like the unattainable vision towards which we strive can actually be real.

“God said, 'let us make human beings in our image'” (Genesis 1:26). Who is God speaking to and what does it mean to be made in God’s image? Rabbi Shai Held dives into the midrash on this text, offering rabbinic explanations to these questions and unearthing the theological and ethical questions that come up along the way. This lecture was originally delivered as part of Hadar’s Summer Learning Retreat in June 2021.

Terumah and Tetzaveh offer a visual landscape of the mishkan, its structure, its furnishings and the dress of those who served in it. One thing that is lacking from this picture is a soundscape. The Torah doesn’t indicate that any words were recited in the mishkan, in prayer or in song. In fact, if we picture the mishkan based on this week’s parashah, the only sound was from the jingling bells on the bottom of the robe worn by the Kohen Gadol. The resonant sound of these bells evokes the steady rhythm of the high priest in worship, but also carries painful overtones of what is most haunting and unresolved as we try to approach the Divine.

For centuries, midrash has helped reconcile problematic, troubling, and hurtful texts by understanding them in a new light. In this lecture, Rabbi Avi Killip studies modern women’s midrash from the book “Dirshuni” that offers one approach to hearing, and maybe even healing from our most difficult texts. That is the power of midrash. This lecture was originally delivered as part of Hadar’s Summer Learning Retreat in June 2021.