Ta Shma

Parashat Terumah brings us to what is a sort of epilogue—though also, in some ways, a prologue—of the love story in three scenes we saw between Israel and God in earlier parshiyyot of Shemot. Beyond Sinai (articulating commitment and marriage), we come to the moment of “moving in” as we build a home in the form of the mishkan. Through intertwined acts of human and divine hospitality, Parashat Terumah teaches us to cultivate a readiness to give of ourselves to shelter and care for another, even when we cannot always clearly envision the recipient—or even the utility of what we have to give.

The very first law of the extended laws of Parashat Mishpatim starts with a horrifying phrase: “When you acquire a Hebrew slave.” We were just, two weeks ago, freed from being Hebrew slaves. How could the Torah possibly articulate the words “Hebrew slave”? This first law in Parashat Mishpatim forces us to confront the fact that oppressive structures become entrenched, and won’t disappear overnight. The dramatic liberation story is over. Now starts the much harder work of finding redemption within unideal and often harsh realities.

The Rabbis lived in a very different world from the biblical “great, mighty, and awesome” God. Rabbi Yitz Greenberg explains how the Rabbis interpreted this depiction of God in a time of human free will and limited divine power. This lecture was originally delivered as part of Hadar’s Summer Learning Retreat in June 2021.

In Parashat Yitro we come to Sinai, the final formative scene in reading the Exodus as a story of how Israel and God "fell in love." Strands of our tradition depict Sinai as a kind of wedding between us and God. In some depictions, Israel blindly agreed to enter this relationship even without knowing all the commitments involved. In other traditions, each person was fully informed of the details beforehand. Exploring these different versions of Sinai we see the importance of informed, affirmative consent as the bedrock of any relationship of intimacy. At the same time, it reminds us that in the deepest relationships of our lives, we can never fully know what might be required of us.

In recent decades, Tu Bishvat has become a holiday for trees and to raise awareness and concern for our natural environment. This year, as we celebrate Tu Bishvat in the midst of a Shemittah year, it is a powerful opportunity to notice the ways Jewish laws on produce and agriculture come at the intersection of the natural environment and social equity. Particularly on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, this intersection is especially poignant. As we celebrate Tu Bishvat of Shemittah this year, let’s remember that we must build a world where blessings are not only shared, but shared in effective ways with those whose access may be riddled with obstacles and hazards.

Last week, we began an exploration of the different stories of how Israel “fell in love” with God. Far from a naive picture of the beloved who swoops in to make everything better, digging deeper into these texts we find a more rugged texture of how redemptive relationship interfaces with complex realities. This week, we will explore the relationship between parents and children, their respective relationships with God, and how these webs of relationship shape each other.

Our tradition invites us to explore the nature of redemptive relationship. Instead of reading the Exodus as primarily historical or mythic, a prominent strand among our sages interprets the Exodus intimately and poetically, through the lens of the Song of Songs. The narrative becomes the origin story of our covenantal relationship with God — or, one might say, the story of how we fell in love.

Some people see Shir HaShirim, the Song of Songs, as an allegory for the love between God and Israel. Some see it simply as a love poem. But what if it’s both?! R. Shai Held takes us through intertextual references in Shir HaShirim and the history of ancient perfume to try to convince us that maybe Shir HaShirim can be both an allegory and literal text at the same time. This lecture was originally delivered as part of Hadar’s Summer Learning Retreat in June 2021.

Sometimes we need a new name for God. The ways we’ve known God so far may feel limited, inadequate, or even disappointing. Moshe is lucky enough to have God disclose a new name, one that will usher in redemption. Learning new names for God that represent a different kind of relationship, or new ways for God to show up in the world, is not generally so straightforward. Sometimes we have to be proactive, whether out of gratitude or desperation, and call God into being in new ways.

Where does our story of slavery begin? These are times when our own ancestors mistreated or enslaved others, perhaps laying the groundwork for the kind of oppression that would end up enslaving us. Noticing these moments is about becoming aware of how our choices about how to exercise power shape the communities and world our descendants will inhabit.