Reform Judaism

Your children are now witnesses - NFTY teens visit Aushwitz/Birkenau

2009-07-02T14:40:47Z

Rabbi Jan Katzew, a URJ Lead Specialist and his wife, Cantor Lanie Katzew, a URJ Music Specialist are accompanying the NFTY in Israel L'Dor V'Dor trip. NFTY teens are travelling through Eastern Europe prior to their time in Israel this summer. Jan and Lanie shared these reflections on the first week of the trip with the teen's parents.

Dear Parents,

Arguably the most lasting memory we will have of the last week is the character of 102 extraordinary and maturing teenagers. You have reason to be proud and justified in your decision to send your children on the trip of a lifetime, and aptly named L'dor Vador, from generation to generation.

The first week of L'dor Vador attempts to traverse the landscape of European Jewry from its cultural efflorescence in Prague to its religious genius in Krakow to its political and military prowess in Warsaw. The motivation for this narrative is the desire to demonstrate the enormity of the loss experienced during the absolute nadir of Jewish memory - the Shoah, the Holocaust. For many of the participants, the time we spent in Aushwitz/Birkenau left the deepest impression. Some spoke movingly of the railroad tracks that led up to the gate. Others spoke of the smell of hair cut off from the victims or the mound of shoes or the ponds full of ashes situated near the crematoria. They grappled with unanswerable questions, challenged their assumptions about good and evil, and the place of God in context with their developing sense of this complex world.

Your children are now witnesses.They have stories to tell you and others, stories that testify to the human capacity for sub-human and super-human behavior. The latter was superbly exemplified by a woman named Paullina who was acknowledged in 1990 by Yad VaShem, the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem as one of the Chasidei Umot HaOlam, one of the "righteous gentiles," the compassionate souls who risked their lives to rescue Jews. Not only did the groups sit for an hour in rapt attention; when Paullina was finished speaking they broke into spontaneous applause and gave her a standing ovation. Then they proceeded to ask thoughtful, penetrating, mature and wonderful questions including "Why did your family risk their lives to save Jews?" We wish you could have kvelled as we did vicariously for your children.

The social dynamic of the group is inclusive and healthy. Most of this week was spent in three groups that traveled with three teams of drivers, guides, educators, and counselors coordinated by a director and supported by a nurse, as well as a senior Union for Reform Judaism staff member and the two of us. Nevertheless, the natural proclivities of teens and the social engineering acumen of the leaders already resulted in a commingling of the groups. The overall tone is friendly, relaxed and distinctly warm.

While learning about the overall experience of 20th Century European Jewry is woefully depressing, the stage has been set for a phenomenal month in Israel. A college president once told a group of parents that their children would be in good hands - "their own." All indications are that your children will merit the same confidence.

Some people may think we are "crazy" or "brave" to accompany a teen trip to Europe and Israel. We know better. We are honored and lucky.Thank you.

Rabbi Jan and Cantor Alane Katzew

Galilee Diary: Peace talk VI: Listening

2009-06-30T15:51:50Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

They combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, "You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord's congregation?" When Moses heard this, he fell on his face.
-Numbers 16:3-4

Last week, the local chapter of Sikkui, a moderate, non-militant non-profit organization that engages in programs of research and education to further equal rights in Israel (research reports, public lectures, seminars, etc.) held an evening panel discussion on the topic of "fear, racism, and inequality;" the focus was on discussing the reasons behind the efforts for and against residential segregation in the Galilee. The invited speakers represented a pretty wide range of views (similar to a program we offered a few months ago, about which I wrote here). And while the audience, characteristically, consisted mainly of people with more "leftist" sympathies, it was actually pretty heterogeneous, as the speakers were a draw (The moderator was Israel Prize Laureate Prof. Gabi Solomon). However, one part of the audience was a little surprising: a busload from the nearby city of Karmiel (pop. 50,000), led by a mayoral candidate from the last election, whose platform had been "keep the Arabs out of Karmiel." They seem to have come not to listen and discuss, but to heckle and disrupt and wave Israeli flags, until, largely ignored, they got bored and left.

While these visitors were not expected, their antics fit squarely into a central element of Israeli public discourse, one of the least attractive aspects of Israeli culture: The assumption that the appropriate way to deal with opinions I do not like is to silence them or outshout them; if no one can hear them, then they don't exist and we don't have to think about them or respond to them. I'm not sure where this approach came from - if it is Middle Eastern, or if our founding fathers brought it with them from Russia. In any case, it drives most of us Anglos crazy. And while the Knesset is perhaps the place where it can best be observed in its extreme form, it permeates all levels of discourse. Trying to conduct a civilized discussion of a controversial issue in a youth group or class room - or teacher in-service - is a constant and frustrating exercise in fighting this approach and trying to get people to listen to each other. Perhaps that is why there are so many academic and quasi-academic professional training programs here in "group facilitation," and why that is such a popular profession - we can't seem to have a group discussion without professional help! I first encountered this behavior shortly after we arrived at Shorashim, when the community began a "discussion" of the question of privatization of the collective economy. Hearing our new nice, educated, middle-class neighbors trying to out-scream each other (thereby, of course, not advancing a solution in any way) was daunting. In the end we hired an expensive facilitator and are all living happily together 20 years later.

Recently, we have seen this "silence the Other" approach carried to a worrying extreme, as there is legislation currently before the Knesset which would forbid anyone from holding any kind of public recognition of the "Nakba" - "the catastrophe" - which is how many Israeli Arabs refer to their defeat in the War of Independence. Presumably, if we never have to listen to the Arabs express their memories of loss and humiliation, those feelings will go away (or maybe the Arabs will get so frustrated that they'll just go away). Similarly, the Ultra-Orthodox act as if shutting down the Gay Pride Parade will either cause homosexuality to disappear - or will cause homosexuals to find another country.

Interesting that the best-known imperative in the Jewish tradition - "Listen, O Israel..." - is the one we have the hardest time doing.

Michael Jackson and the Jews

2009-06-29T14:07:07Z

by Rabbi Eric Yoffie

Michael Jackson was a musician of immense talent and arguably the greatest Pop singer of our era. He reinvented pop music and produced the world's bestselling album. He was also a man of stupendous wealth who, by his own admission, used his celebrity to entice children to visit his estate and share a bed with him. While he was never convicted of a crime, his trial for child abuse and its aftermath revealed a pattern of utterly reprehensible conduct toward his own children and the children of others entrusted to his care.

In our celebrity-obsessed age, it is perhaps not surprising that we were never willing to judge Michael Jackson by the standards that we use to judge everyone else. Jackson's fans defended him ferociously, seeing him as a symbol of innocence and insisting that he was more victim than victimizer. Is it really necessary, however, now that he is dead, for those who speak in the name of the Jewish community to be joining in the adulation and offering excuses for his actions?

Jackson's relations with the Jewish community were, to say the least, complicated. Some have charged that he was an anti-Semite, but this is unclear. He was, however, a clever marketer and an opportunist who used anti-Jewish comments to his own advantage. His 1995 release "They Don't Care About Us" included the line: "Jew me, sue me, everybody do me." The words caused a storm of protest, as everyone knew that they would. Jackson first responded with a rambling explanation arguing that the lyrics did not mean what they plainly said. Eventually he offered an apology, to the applause of a grateful Jewish establishment. Over the course of the controversy, the incident generated immense publicity and additional sales. This pattern was to repeat itself a number of times.

Following Jackson's death, the Jewish press and the Jewish blogosphere were filled with proud stories of Jewish writers and public figures who had met Jackson, been to synagogue with him, discussed Jewish music with him, and introduced their children to him. It was even claimed that his second wife and two of his children were Jewish. One blogger, known for his insightful and sober commentary, compared Jackson to the Biblical figure of Joseph.

The most widely distributed article by far from a Jewish source was the one written by Shmuley Boteach, an Orthodox rabbi and friend of Jackson, for the Jerusalem Post. Boteach's comments were also featured on a number of TV entertainment shows. The Post article was painful to read, and for a rabbi, inexcusable. Boteach congratulates himself for accompanying Jackson to Shabbat dinners and for introducing him to Elie Wiesel. Boteach's Jackson, far more sinned against than sinning, had no responsibility for his actions. Everything that he did is attributable to the failures of those in his inner circle. Jackson's attacks on Jews are not mentioned. Jackson's treatment of his own children - when they appeared in public he shrouded them in masks or veils, and he dangled one child over a balcony - is not mentioned. Most important, his treatment of other people's children - those who were lured to his home and made to sleep in his bed - is not mentioned; and needless to say, treating other's children in this way is utterly forbidden by any reading of Jewish law and tradition.

To Boteach, Jackson is a flawed but sympathetic individual, a tragic figure characterized by "nobility of spirit." No, he is not. There is not a Jewish school in North America that would teach the lessons of Jackson's life to Jewish children in the way that Rabbi Boteach sees them. True, Jackson was a great musician and the pain of his death is felt by millions; but at a time like this, it would have been far better for Rabbi Boteach and others in our community to just remain silent.

D'var Torah: Paradox and Faith: The Art of Holiness

2009-06-28T14:46:43Z

by Elyse Frishman
(Originally posted in Ten Minutes of Torah and Reform Voices of Torah)

"In the beginning, God created . . . B'reishit bara Elohim et . . ." (Genesis 1:1). Et is the fourth word of Torah and it has no meaning. It's a grammatical Hebrew term marking the direct object hashamayim, "the heavens."The purpose of et appears to be to draw attention to exactly what God is creating.

Yet, how could the fourth word of Torah have as little significance as to serve only as a marker . . . to mean nothing? As humans, when we imagine we form a picture--and that isn't "nothing." It's impossible to see nothing.

Alternatively, consider the composition of et, with the two letters alef and tav: alef is the beginning and tav the end of the "alphabet," the alef-bet. Perhaps et, which is nothing, suggests the full alef-bet, which is everything. It is as if to teach: from nothing God will create everything.

That is the first paradox in the Torah.

Our double parashah Chukat/Balak begins with another paradox; the strange ritual of burning the red heifer, whose ashes were to be mixed with water and then used to purify the unclean Israelite. The ashes were a paradox: they made an unclean person clean, but the clean priest preparing those ashes became unclean.

What sin did the ashes cleanse? "The Holy Blessed One said, 'Let the heifer come and atone for the incident of the calf,'" (B'midbar Rabbah 19:8). Thirty-eight years had passed since the Israelites had left Sinai; a new generation had arisen. Perhaps the ashes, stored within the Ark, were to remind these younger Israelites of the catastrophe of the Golden Calf. They knew only what had been passed down to them by their parents and grandparents. Would the heifer remind them of God's potential wrath? Or would it signal forgiveness, washing away the stains of the past so the new generation could begin anew?

Yet these Israelites did not seem very different from their parents, complaining bitterly and antagonistically toward Moses and God. "The people grew restive on the journey, and the people spoke against God and against Moses, 'Why did you make us leave Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread and water, and we have come to loathe this miserable food,' " (Numbers 21:4-5). What was the basis for their comparison? They'd had no experience of anything else. What was bread to them? Perhaps the memories that were passed to them were toxic. Since the punishment to wander was for utter faithlessness, we have to wonder: as the new generation of Israelites drew close to the Promised Land, were they ready?

"The Eternal sent seraph serpents against the people. They bit the people and many of the Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, 'We sinned by speaking against the Eternal and against you. Intercede with the Eternal to take away the serpents from us!' And Moses interceded for the people. Then the Eternal One said to Moses, 'Make a seraph figure and mount it on a standard. And anyone who was bitten who then looks at it shall recover.' Moses made a copper serpent and mounted it on the standard; and when bitten by a serpent, anyone who looked at the copper serpent would recover," (Numbers 21:6-9).

This is another paradox. The serpent's bite would kill; but gazing upon the copper serpent would heal. The midrash observes that the Israelites had to look upward to see the standard, that is, to look to God, (B'midbar Rabbah 19:23). Thus the Israelites would learn: the very things that would harm them if they only looked at one another would bring healing if they looked up to God. Just as God had promised success when they entered the Promised Land, they needed to realize that they would fail utterly without faith.

The people's physical landscape was unchanged: desert wilderness. But what was their spiritual landscape? Were they able to see beyond the desert of their fears? Soon enough they would arrive at the Promised Land--would they have the spiritual courage to make the land Promised? Had the people acquired faith?

For Moses and Aaron, faith came easily. For the people, it was entirely less so. Over and again, God needed to perform wonders, from the initial plagues to this latest: a healing copper serpent to garner the people's attention and belief.

In Hebrew, the word for "copper" is n'choshet (nun-chet-shin-tav); the word for "serpent" is nachash (nun-chet-shin). The difference between them is the tav in the word for copper. Consider the shape of a tav--it is like a sukkah, a shelter of God's protection. Gazing up at the copper serpent staff would draw the wounded into God's shelter of healing.

Rabbi Yitzchak Ginsburgh teaches that the letter tav symbolizes God's seal or imprint--almost like a fingerprint, (The Alef-Beit, [Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson Press, 1991, pp. 324ff). Perhaps the addition of the tav to nachash, turning theserpent into copper, teaches that when God's imprint is visible, anything, anyone, can be transformed. Just as at the Burning Bush, Moses--finding God--shifted from shepherd to redeemer.

Yet the Israelites were shallow; despite redemption and revelation, punishment and wandering, they could not mature into a people of faith. They were literalists, seeing only serpent and copper standard, punishment and forgiveness. They couldn't appreciate the privilege God had offered them: to become "a kingdom of priests" (Exodus 19:6).

Moses and Aaron were deeply faithful, understanding their roles as God's agents. They didn't merely guide the people from one location to another; they struggled to help them evolve and mature into a people ready to own the Promised Land.

Do you remember paint-by-numbers--a kit containing a pre-drawn cardboard canvas, fully outlined with numbers designating which color paint to apply? Included was a brush and paint set, each color identified by number. The task was to apply the right number paint to its spot on the canvas, and take care to keep within the lines. The Israelites were paint-by-number Jews. They were incapable of doing more than following specific instructions, and often they did much less than that. Following the mitzvot didn't change their character because they lacked kavanah, "spiritual intention."

But Judaism is an art, transforming the ordinary into the holy. We learn to paint from paradox rather than from certainty, to reveal the beauty, the meaningful, the good and holy that emerge from our challenges. An artist takes responsibility for interpreting and creating anew. When God's imprint is truly impressed on our souls, anything can be transformed. Thus, what wounds can also heal. The profane can become holy. We can become a kingdom of priests.

Rabbi Elyse Frishman is the spiritual leader of The Barnert Temple in Franklin Lakes, New Jersey. She is the editor of Mishkan T'filah, A Reform Siddur.

D'var Acher: Seeing Our Blessings

2009-06-28T14:18:05Z

by Kim S. Ettlinger
(Originally published in Ten Minutes of Torah and Reform Voices of Torah)

Numbers 22:12, "But God said to Balaam, 'Do not go with them. You must not curse that people, for they are blessed.' "

When God says these words to Balaam, God tells him that the Israelite people are blessed and that no matter the curse that Balaam utters, it is in vain. This begins another paradox like those Rabbi Frishman discussed: can an eternally blessed people truly be cursed? For another interpretation of these words, we might consider who has asked for the curse and who is meant to be the recipient of the curse? We know Balak asked that the Israelites be cursed and so we ask, why? There are two reasons: first, because of fear and second, because of jealously. Balak was scared of the Israelites as they were numerous, strong, and victorious. He was jealous for the same reason: they were so numerous, the earth could not be seen (Number 22:5), and they were strong and victorious. Things were going well for the Israelites and this scared Balak.

All too easily does this relate to our lives! When things don't seem to be going the way we envision or if, quite simply, we are having a tough time with work, our family, or our community, we tend to see the negative, we may see ourselves as cursed. Our mindset changes from seeing the good and the beauty in life to seeing only the difficulty and the darkness or the pain. And recently, this is very true for many of us. We may not see the blessings in our own lives, our world view may have become skewed. We may find that we become jealous of others' successes, their wealth, and relationships. We may criticize them rather than praising them and "patting them on the back" because we feel insecure and unsure of ourselves. At times, we may feel lost and find it difficult to espouse a positive attitude. The antidote can be relatively simple if we stop for a moment and reflect on our lives and open ourselves to look inward and to see our blessings. Then it won't be long till we will see our successes, the goodness within our lives and our relationships. It won't be long till we find ways to mend what is broken. We all have our share of blessings; let's see them, for they are most-certainly present.

Rabbi Kim S. Ettlinger is a rabbi at Peninsula Temple Sholom in Burlingame, California.

Torah in Haiku: Korach

2009-06-26T02:22:01Z

by Ed Nickow
Temple Chai, Long Grove, IL
(Originally published in The Torah in Haiku)

Even post Korach

The people complain to G-d

A plague kills thousands

Moses and Aaron

Have to ask G-d, once again

Not to kill them all

This is the Week, Let's Make it Ours

2009-06-24T21:08:15Z

by Rachel Cohen
Eisendrath Legislative Assistant at the Religious Action Center
(Originally published on the RACBlog)

Have you ever thought about taking action on climate change and wondered, "does my voice really matter?" If so, then today is your day! Congress is about to vote on the most important piece of climate and energy legislation in years, and many members of the House of Representatives (especially the "Blue Dog" Democrats) remain undecided. Despite weeks of drafts and compromises to bring the American Clean Energy and Security Act (H.R. 2454) to this point, much uncertainty about the bill and its fate remains. Many of our own partners in the faith community are unsatisfied with the aid provided to the most vulnerable developing nations to adapt to climate change, and some of the most progressive environmental groups claim that targets for emissions reductions and renewable energy are insufficient to the challenge we face. And of course, there are still those who refuse to take any action on climate and energy.

To be clear, this bill is far from perfect. Still, the American Clean Energy and Security Act is a historic piece of legislation - the first climate bill to get to the House floor at all - and we must do all we can to strengthen the bill AND move the process forward. As we struggle to rebuild our economy, we need clean energy legislation to unleash investments and jobs building wind farms, installing solar panels, and weatherizing and retrofitting homes. These clean, green jobs will help get our country back on track and protect our planet.

As the landmark climate change report released last week and carbon calculator recently unveiled in Midtown Manhattan demonstrate yet again, this is a truly urgent issue. We are already seeing the effects of climate change - not just in low-lying or drought-prone regions around the world - but all across the U.S., and if we do not move forward now, we may not be able to avoid the worst impacts. So this is the time for action; the time for each and every one of us to speak up and call on our elected officials to lead the way to strong domestic laws, and a global deal on climate change at Copenhagen later this year.

Expect a week filled with long nights and hard fights on the Hill, and follow the debate - through the RAC's blog and special climate resources, Facebook, and Twitter pages - and on the front pages of your favorite news outlets and advocacy groups. Call or write your Member of Congress and urge him or her to take action for a clean energy future TODAY, and talk about the issue that brings you to the climate and energy debate (green jobs, environmental justice, clean energy, wildlife protection, etc). And, of course, let us know how we can help you make your voice even louder. Because if there was ever a time to speak up, this is it.

Galilee Diary: Peace talk V - Living with the other

2009-06-23T17:08:52Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

When she saw that [Joseph] had left [his garment] in her hand and had fled outside, she called out to her servants and said to them, "Look, he had to bring us a Hebrew to dally with us! This one came to lie with me; but I screamed loud. And when he heard me screaming at the top of my voice, he left his garment with me and got away and fled outside."
-Genesis 39:13-15

In Jew Suess, the infamous Nazi propaganda feature film, a central plot element is the cruel sexual exploitation of the virgin Aryan Dorothea by the conniving Jew Suess.

When I was a teenager, the real estate developer and social activist Morris Milgram tried to build an explicitly integrated development in our area. My parents were supportive. Their friends' comment was "that's because you don't have daughters."

When I make the mistake of mentioning Arabs in any context in the course of a bet midrash with high school students in Karmiel, I hear a loud litany of complaints about how Arab boys come to Karmiel to stroll the mall and harass Jewish girls with looks and comments.

There is, it seems, something viscerally frightening about the Other, whoever he happens to be - a fear that begets visceral hatred and has, over the centuries, led to violence in varied settings. I will leave the explanations to the Freudians. What is important is that the image of the Arab as fundamentally different, as a threat to our culture and even to our personal safety, is, I think, an important factor in determining the way we live together (or don't). Surveys show that a clear majority of Israeli Jews would not agree to live in an apartment building together with Arabs. There is presently a case awaiting hearing in the Supreme Court, in which a middle class Arab family was rejected when it sought to build a home in a Jewish community here in the Galilee. The main platform plank of the opposition parties in the last Karmiel municipal election was "keep the Arabs out of Karmiel." They carried the city council. The Jews' objections are not based on our enmity with Arab states or on fears of violence or terrorism; it is pretty clear that they are based on less rational considerations.

I am sure that there are plenty of Israeli Arabs who have negative and threatening images of Jews in their heads. They, however, happen to be the minority, so they don't really have the opportunity to translate their fears into actions.

So what is to be done? It seems that there is no easy solution - especially in view of the issues expounded in the previous three Galilee Diary entries; all four factors are intertwined (defining a Jewish democracy; the conflicting historical narrative; the cultural divide; and simple fear/hatred of the Other). Where do we start? Forced residential integration? Integrated education? Voluntary shared cultural programs? Changing the curriculum of the schools (the separate schools)? Public propaganda? Agreeing on a constitution? Developing a new generation and a new style of leaders? Legal challenges to discrimination? Giving up and giving in to the voices of "transfer?" Either we can be paralyzed by the vicious cycle of challenges, each of which seems a precondition for solving the next - or we can each choose a place to stand and reach for whatever lever we can to move the world. The trends in Jewish and Arab society, as they surface in depressing survey results every few months, make it clear that just waiting for the problem to solve itself is not a viable option. And if we don't move towards solving it, what kind of a future can we envision here?

You Can't Always Get What You Want*

2009-06-22T14:48:01Z

by Elyse Frishman
(Originally published in Ten Minutes of Torah and Reform Voices of Torah)

"Now Korah, son of Izhar son of Kohath son of Levi, betook himself, along with Dathan and Abiram . . . descendants of Reuben--to rise up against Moses, together with two hundred and fifty Israelites, chieftains of the community, chosen in the assembly, men of repute. They combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, 'You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and the Eternal is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above the Eternal's congregation?' "(Numbers 16:1-3).

Who were Korah, Dathan, and Abiram? All had status of import: Korah was a Levite, and Dathan and Abiram were from the tribe of Reuben, the firstborn.

Each tribe had been given its role, living in formation around the Mishkan toprotect one another from outside attack and be reminded of the centrality of God and Torah. The Levites had special privilege for the porterage of the Mishkan. Each Levite clan had a specific task.

Moses and Aaron themselves were Levites, set apart for their particular roles as Prophet and High Priest. They were Kohathites; their father Amram was a son of Kohath. Amram's brother was Izhar; so Korah was their first cousin. The Kohathites were given the most prestigious task to care for the Mishkan's sacred items including the Ark of the Covenant (Numbers 4:1-20). The Kohathites were warned never to look upon these objects, lest they gaze accidentally and be killed. Aaron and his sons covered them before the Kohathites drew near. The role of the Kohathites required great courage and careful dedication to instruction.

As shared a few weeks ago about Parashat B'midbar, Rambam taught that when they carried the Holy Ark, the Kohathites faced inward, away from the outside world, (Hilchot Klei HaMikdash 2:13). The men were to focus entirely upon their task; they were not to be distracted by the outside world, not even on the direction in which they were moving; they were to devote all their attention to the Ark.

For Korah, the mitzvah to carry the Ark was onerous task, not a privilege. He could not appreciate the importance of his own essential role. He yearned for what he could not have--the perceived power of Aaron and Moses--and rationalized their destruction for his gain.

How was Korah able to gather a cohort around him? Moses had just navigated the people through two precipitous events--their betrayal of God in refusing to enter the Promised Land, and the stoning to death of the wood-gatherer who violated Shabbat (Numbers 15:32-36). Hadn't the people realized that Moses had saved them, negotiating their punishment from immediate death to wandering forty additional years?

Moses was distraught when he learned of Korah's betrayal. "When Moses heard this, he fell on his face . . . (He said), "Hear me, sons of Levi. Is it not enough for you that the God of Israel has set you apart from the community of Israel and given you direct access, to perform the duties of the Eternal's Tabernacle and to minister to the community and serve them? Now that [God] has advanced you and all your fellow Levites with you, do you seek the priesthood too? Truly, it is against the Eternal that you and all your company have banded together. For who is Aaron that you should rail against him?"(Numbers 16:4, 8-11).

What made Korah think that he deserved the priesthood and that God would support him? Yet he plotted, certain of his righteousness. The midrash notes that Korah had been "controller in Pharaoh's palace and was in charge of the keys of his treasury. The Holy Blessed One said to him, 'What benefit do you derive from this? You are not master over them'. . . (B'midbar Rabbah 18:15). God perceived earlier Korah's quest for power. Korah confused privilege with ownership.

The challenge not to confuse privilege with ownership is timeless: to be stewards of the earth and not reckless lords; to manage employees, partners, and children with appreciation; to learn and then fulfill the role that each of us plays in the work of the world, without greed or envy.

Consider this commentary on "The Israelites shall camp each man with his standard, under the banners of their ancestral house; they shall camp around the Tent of Meeting at a distance,"(Numbers 2:2). The Sages focus on the concept of the individual Israelite "each with his standard":

Every Jew must know and think that he is unique in the world, and there was never anyone exactly like him; had there been someone just like him, there would have been no need for him. Indeed, every single person is someone new in this world, and it is his duty to improve all his ways until all Israel have attained perfection.
(Bet Aharon, mentioned in Itturei Torah, vol. 5, compiled by Aharon Yaakov Greenberg [Tel Aviv: Yavneh Publishing House, 1996], pp. 21-22)

We are unique; but that awareness could lead to self-aggrandizement. So the midrash reminds us of the weight of that honor: to improve ourselves--not to improve each other. Indeed, it reminds us to improve ourselves for the sake of one another. Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook taught: "Each person is created at a certain time, by God's plan, to fulfill a certain role in creation. Until a person is created, he is not worthy of being in the world. Unfortunately, each person must confess every year: 'Now that I have been created, it is as if I had not been created'--I was meant to fulfill a certain role, but have not managed to fulfill it, so it is as if I was not created"(Olat Ra'ayah, mentioned in Torah Gems, Itturei Torah, vol. 3, complied by Aharon Yaakov Greenberg [Tel Aviv: Yavneh Publishing House, 1992, pp. 16-17).

Korah illustrates that aspect of ourselves that denies reality because we prefer an alternative one. Discontent with our lot, we seek another, not by looking within to change ourselves but by undermining what is around us. We have an adulterous affair, we abuse substances, we treat those we love with indignation and arrogance, suggesting that our problems or situation are their faults. "Why then do you raise yourselves above the Eternal's congregation?"(Numbers 16:3). We state falsehood with such certainty that it seems true.

Abraham Joshua Heschel taught: "Even more frustrating than the fact that evil is real, mighty and tempting is the fact that it thrives so well in the disguise of the good, that it can draw its nutriment from the life of the holy. In this world, it seems, the holy and the unholy do not exist apart, but are mixed, interrelated and confounded,"(Abraham Joshua Heschel, God in Search of Man: A Philosophy of Judaism, [New York: Harper and Row, Publishers,1966], p. 369).

How easy it is to confuse lust with love, greed with need, mere knowledge with wisdom.

Let us understand Aaron's role in this encounter. Was Aaron known to the people outside of his all-encompassing priestly role? His leadership seemed to be defined by duty rather than vision; in this sense, he was the consummate Levite. Yet, until now, the Israelites had never truly experienced Aaron outside of his very-defined priestly duties.

Five earlier episodes illustrate aspects of Aaron that the Israelites may or may not have witnessed. First, Aaron somehow left Egypt and met Moses on his way back from the Burning Bush, accompanying him back to Pharaoh. Second, confronting Pharaoh with Moses, Aaron performed the first plagues yet took no credit for his efforts. Did the slaves ever learn that it was Aaron, as God's and Moses's agent, who turned the waters to blood and brought frogs upon the land? Third, during the attack of the Amalekites, Aaron helped Moses to keep his arms upraised so the people would prevail. Fourth, his building the Golden Calf revealed a hand that was neither deterrent nor evidence of leadership. Finally, his reaction to the death of his sons was hidden and private, happening during the period of ordination that allowed him no formal or public mourning. (Was Korah, a cousin, aware of this tragedy)?

Aaron and Korah were opposites: one the humble embodiment of duty, the other a jealous seeker of power.

". . . Moses said to Aaron, 'Take the fire pan, and put on it fire from the altar. Add incense and take it quickly to the community and make expiation for them. For wrath has gone forth from the Eternal: the plague has begun!' Aaron took it, as Moses had ordered, and ran to the midst of the congregation, where the plague had begun among the people. He put on the incense and made expiation for the people; he stood between the dead and the living until the plague was checked,"(Numbers 17:11-13).

Aaron went into their midst, whispering words of comfort and consolation, gently swinging the incense, dissipating the ether of death with the soothing fragrance of the Mishkan. Until now he was titular High Priest. Like Moses, his figurehead was frightening and awesome; the human Aaron was unknown to them. But suddenly, his compassion and courage were manifest. The people healed. God's High Priest became their High Priest.

So, too, the loving people in our lives are willing to walk among those of us who are damaged, trying to heal us, even when their own lives have been deeply wounded by us.

Perhaps his action brought the people an insight about themselves. To be God's people meant to take risks, to walk among the dying and bring them back to life, to enter the Land even when afraid.

Earlier at Sinai, God named the Israelites an am s'gulah, "a treasured people."It was conditional on Torah observance: "Now then, if you will obey Me faithfully and keep My covenant, you shall be My treasured possession among all the peoples. Indeed, all the earth is Mine, but you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation,"(Exodus 19:5-6). The Israelites were to be loyal and dutiful. Thus far, they were neither. It's no surprise then that they could be drawn to another defier, Korah, who, if he had succeeded, would have undermined all divine authority. Aaron's action said: "I am a Levite whose eyes are never distracted from the truest duties of the Mishkan, to serve God by serving you. I forgive your challenge of me. I love you."And his action became a prayer, averting further destruction.

Thus taught Hillel: "Be of the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing it, loving your fellow creatures and drawing them near to Torah,"(Pirkei Avot 1:12).

* "You Can't Always Get What You Want,"Let It Bleed, written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, 1969

Rabbi Elyse Frishman is the spiritual leader of The Barnert Temple in Franklin Lakes, New Jersey. She is the editor of Mishkan T'filah, A Reform Siddur.

D'var Acher: Challenging God

2009-06-22T14:44:45Z

by David N. Young
(Originally published in Ten Minutes of Torah and Reform Voices of Torah)

Throughout the Bible, God is challenged. Abraham challenges God. Pharaoh challenges God. Jezebel challenges God. The Israelites constantly challenge God.

What is it that distinguishes these challenges and God's responses to them? Parashat Korach gives us a little insight. We read of four different challenges this week, and four levels of response. Korah bands with Dathan and Abiram against Moses and Aaron. The Israelites gather against Moses and Aaron. Moses and Aaron beseech God not to destroy the entire community. The chieftains of Israel accept the challenge God puts forth for the right to be in the Divine Presence.

Korah's rebellion is the most severe. As Jacob Milgrom points out, Korah and his band are "demoralized by the majority report of the scouts and condemned by their God to die in the wilderness"(The JPS Torah Commentary, Numbers [Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1990] p. 129). They are angry, and perhaps jealous of their cousin Moses, and they express their anger by inciting the community. Even our typically humble Moses denounces the revolt, telling Korah rav lachem, "You have gone too far,"echoing Korah's his own words from a few verses earlier (Numbers 16:3, 7). The people of the Korahite rebellion are utterly destroyed, either sent to Sheol or burned to ash by fire from God.

When the Israelites rebel as a community, they do so out of fear. They have just seen 250 of their religious leaders die, and they are afraid that it is because of Moses and Aaron and this invisible God they are following around the wilderness. God sees this as punishable by death, but Moses and Aaron intervene, challenging God to reconsider punishing them with the same ferocity as Korah. God does reconsider, and the reaction to the Israelites is modified. When the chieftains accept God's challenge, none are punished because God sets the terms. Their acceptance shows a willingness to adhere to the results of the challenge. Their staffs do not sprout, and only Aaron is given the right to be in the Ohel Mo-eid the "Tent of Meeting."

God can take a challenge, but not every confrontation is equal. The difference is in the intent of the challenger. If we are acting out of anger, jealousy, or fear, we are demonstrating a lack of faith in God's leadership and ability to protect us. If we put forth a challenge out of a desire to change the world for the better, perhaps God will regard our request. Our greatest hope of this comes when we challenge ourselves to become better versions of ourselves. May these challenges help us to nurture our communities to fuller Jewish lives.

Rabbi David N. Young is the assistant rabbi at Temple Sinai of North Dade in Miami, Florida. He lives in Sunrise, Florida with his wife Cantor Natalie Young and their two sons Gabriel and Alexander.

Why I used a bullhorn during services last night [dispatches from Kutz]

2009-06-19T15:38:59Z

by David A.M. Wilensky
(Originally posted on "The Reform Shuckle")

Here at Kutz, staff week is in full swing. As usual, we all do jobs that aren't actually our jobs. I'm the AV guy, but last night I was given the chance to be involved with services.

So I had a cool idea. I was thinking about the Barchu. It's a call to worship, right? A call! Not a mumbled nigun thing or a mumbled chanted response thing.

I was also thinking about when you're in Israel (or any mid east country, for that matter), you can hear the Muslim call to worship five times a day. It's unavoidable. You damn well know when it's time to pray in a Muslim country. So why isn't the Barchu a wakeup call of equal force.

So I talked about that briefly before we began to daven. And then I lead the Barchu with a bullhorn.

Swine Ain't Kosher at a Jewish Summer Camp

2009-06-19T15:09:00Z

by Rabbi Paul Kipnes
(Originally posted at Or Am I?)

D'var Acher (Alternate Title): Porky Pig, Superman and Other Comics translation: swine flu, super staff and the theater of the absurd

D'var Acher (Alternate Title): "I Know it is 1:00 am, and I'm Sorry to Wake You, but..."

Team Crisis Management: Just before midnight on Wednesday, June 17, 2009, my wife Michelle November and I joined the URJ Camp Newman-Swig's Team Crisis Management as the Santa Rosa, CA camp responded to two cases of Influenza A (presumed to be H1N1 - swine flu) and another dozen cases of the regular flu. This was NOT how we expected our time at camp to be.

Background: At Camp Newman-Swig this summer, I serve as Faculty Dean, while Michelle, an MSW by training and currently the Associate Director of Admissions at Los Angeles' New Community Jewish High School, serves as a member of the Nefesh Team ("nefesh" = soul = the camp's psychosocial support team).

Our family arrived at Camp Newman-Swig at about 5:30 pm and enjoyed the traditional pre-camp faculty dinner out at Dafna's Greek. A fabulous faculty meeting followed where Associate Camp Director Phil Hankin and Camp Education Director Sara Mason-Barkin rolled out many exciting camp initiatives.

Not ten minutes after the meeting let out, the faculty was called back into session and informed that camp, facing a number of staff with flu-like symptoms, had determined that we were facing two cases of presumed H1N1, swine flu. With a decision immanent to postpone the arrival of the younger campers (11th grade Avodah, 12th grade CIT and the Staff were already at camp), we were being drafted into Team Crisis Management and asked to call all camper parents tonight to inform them of the decision.

By 10:15 pm, a calling script was being written, call lists divided up (rabbis/educators began by calling our own congregants), and, with Michelle's guidance, a list of responses to anticipated questions was being developed ("When will camp invite the younger campers up? Still too early to say").

Calling Parents: By 11:00 pm, we were spread out all over camp, manning phones, sharing the calm but clear message:

Dear Parent,

We are in the process of calling all of our camper parents with the important announcement...

In the last 48 hours a number of our staff members have come into the infirmary not feeling well, some with fever. In order to be very cautious and responsible, we tested some of our staff and the results came back positive for Influenza A. Our county public health department has informed us that this is mostly likely the H1N1 virus - swine flu. Therefore after consulting with medical professionals and the leadership of the Union for Reform Judaism we have determined that is wise to delay the opening camp and to demonstrate an abundance of caution. While we know that this will be tremendously inconvenient, we take our responsibility for the health and safety of children entrusted to our care as our foremost priority.

We will be in touch again by email late Thursday evening with an update. We hope by then to be able to make a determination as to when the session will begin. Again we are very sorry for calling so late and we certainly understand that our campers will be disappointed.

Thank you for your understanding and support. (Email addresses were provided for those with questions.)

From 11:00 pm until 2:00 am, Michelle and I joined a dozen other faculty members, waking parents and sharing the news. It was a fascinating and overwhelming experience. Fascinating because here we were, telling parents that their child's camp experience and long planned family plans were being changed, yet with the exception of a handful, each parent was appreciative and complimentary about our proactive decision. Overwhelming, because a good many offered to help in a multiplicity of ways. Even better, of 200+ campers, only one (one!) camper showed up for camp. In just 3 short hours, these smooth crisis response efforts successfully reached the entire camper population!

Though we were dragging by 2:00 am, we were reassured by the experience of being part of a Jewish community dedicated to emet (truth/honesty), chochma (wisdom/wise decisions), and responsiveness. Just before we passed out in our bed, Michelle and I chatted about how impressed we were with the quick, patient leadership of Director Ruben Arquilevich, Associate Director Phil Hankin, Directors Ari Vared and Aliyah Shulkin, Administrative Staff Tracey Klapow, Christine Reiter and Dena Kaufman, and Camp Doctor Greg Hirsch (and the incredible Medical Staff. They had consulted with the top notch camp doctors, coordinated with the local and state Departments of Public Health, conferenced by senior URJ leaders in New York (waking them as the concern mounted), and made appropriately conservative decisions that were in the best interests of the staff/CITs/Avodahniks currently in camp, and those campers who will come up in the future.

Those staff who are sick have been segregated (isolated/quarantined is the medical term), and many of those who had flu symptoms are currently on the mend. As the flu has an incubation peried of about 7 days, the camp is being proactively responsible in waiting to see if the flu will spread. Our daughter is hanging with her CIT (counselor in training) friends, observing the camp separation between CITs/Avodahniks and the staff (the latter who were together during the incubation period).

After a few hours sleep (I woke at 7:30 am Wednesday), we gathered down in the Chadar Ochel (dining room) to evaluate and begin the process of deciding next steps. Communication with the national URJ office, with the Health Department, with our medical staff, with the region's rabbis/cantors/educators and with parents continues on the highest, most open level.

How are we Kipnes/Novembers? Understand that our Kipnes/November family is healthy and safe, as are the vast, vast majority of the camp community. Our daughter is enjoying her CIT experience, which, though proceeding without campers, is filled with fun, learning and Jewish spiritual growth. And though we told our two sons to wash hands regularly, to eat at tables away from the rest of the staff, and to refrain from hugging anyone (a challenge in the loving camp community), they are enjoying the run of the camp with only minimal supervision.

Reflections on our Camp Newman-Swig Leadership: You take the measure of an institution, and the measure of a man, by the way they respond in the most challenging of situations. While I highly value the way camp instills a love of Judaism and builds self-esteem, first and foremost I want to be convinced that Camp is a safe place for my children.

That's why these past few days have made me an even bigger fan of the URJ, its Camp Newman-Swig in Santa Rosa, CA, and of the camp leadership (from Senior Director Ruben Arquilevich and continuing through their entire staff).

Their actions - postponing the arrival of the younger kids, isolating those staff members exhibiting flu-like symptoms, and separating staff from the CITs/Avodahniks who arrived at camp later - were rightly prudent, responsible, consultative, caring, and tireless.

So on Thursday afternoon, I sent the following email to the senior camp Newman-Swig's leadership. I wanted to share the appreciation and comfort Michelle and I (and the other faculty/staff families gathered at camp) feel about the actions, transparency and compassion of Camp Newman-Swig's leadership:

Dear Directors, Gezah team, senior administrators, medical team, office staff (and other Camp Newman-Swig leadership),

Being up here on faculty allows me to be both a participant and an observer of the goings on at camp. I have witnessed so much that amazes me.

I see so many caring people - you! - rising up to act in ways that evidence the depth of your compassion and the fullest of your ability to care for others,

I see so many courageous people - you! - who are facing so many unknowns, so much not in your control, yet are moving forward thoughtfully to manage the camp and care for the staff, CITs and Avodahniks who are here,

I see so many tireless people - you! - who are working endless hours, moving thru the moments of exhaustion to plan and respond,

I see people - you! - who evidence bikur cholim, our cherished Jewish value of caring for the infirmed, as you take care of those few who have the flu, those who are well on the way to recovery, and each other (ensuring that you do not burn out),

I see so many people - yes, you! - with endless patience, who are calmly answering questions, sharing information, exhibiting the quiet reassurance that lets the rest of us move thru our days without worry.

Thank you for taking such good care of all of us at camp, for working endless hours to address that which is beyond our control and for making sure that wisdom and caution prevails amidst the pressures of opening camp.

My whole family - a CIT, 2 soon to be (teenage) campers, and 2 adults - is up at camp right now. We feel safe, cared for, informed.

I am so proud to be part of this amazing community. Thank you for all you are doing.

Need I say more? There are 270+ of us still up here at Camp Newman-Swig, and we look forward to the eventual arrival of the younger campers.Read more updates on my blog Or Am I? or on Rabbi Rick Winer's Divrei Derech.

Torah in Haiku: Sh'lach L'cha

2009-06-17T02:22:04Z

by Ed Nickow
Temple Chai, Long Grove, IL
(Originally published in The Torah in Haiku)

A disturbing tale:

On Shabbat, the people see

Man gathering sticks

G-d informs Moses

That the whole community

Should stone him to death

And so it was done

Just as G-d had commanded

A fair punishment?

Why I Am Fasting for Darfur

2009-06-16T17:24:27Z

by Rabbi David Saperstein
(Originally posted on the RACBlog)

Today I find myself once again fasting for Darfur. My first fast for Darfur, which I did only a few days after being arrested with Representative John Lewis, four other members of Congress, and leaders of Darfur advocacy groups, was undertaken to underline the urgency of the suffering in the internally displaced persons camps in Darfur after President Bashir had expelled over a dozen aid groups from the region.

Now, though, three months later, as I take up the same fast again, the situation has not materially improved. Aid groups report that while they have covered some gaps, their efforts are neither sustainable nor sufficient. Food and other supplies have been unable to be pre-positioned before the rainy season in necessary amounts. Aid groups report that hunger and water-borne diseases will spread in the rainy season, with feared results of mass migration. Children are disproportionately susceptible to the results of insufficient sanitation, food and medical supplies. Families in other parts of Sudan also suffer as aid groups were pushed out.

All this while our hopes for a lasting peace in Sudan also dwindle, as reports of clashes in South Sudan has raised death rates to levels even higher than that of Darfur.

On my last day of fasting, I am honored that rabbis from around the world will join in the fast. Fasting is a traditional part of Judaism, usually accompanying the memory of a great tragedy or deep repentance. But we cannot let this fast be a yearly activity, as our traditional fasts are. If that is the case, it will mean the world will have allowed the children of Darfur to slowly die, not the quick deaths at the hands of the Janjaweed, but slow deaths of hunger and disease, while promises and negotiations fail to return life-saving aid to these displaced people. Let us do everything possible to ensure that this will be the last fast necessary to draw attention to the urgent need for both relief and long-lasting peace for the people of Sudan.

Together, activists around the world have committed to continuously pounding the drumbeat for Darfur, and Special Envoy Gration is working hard to negotiate a restoration of the humanitarian aid and to restart a just peace process and recent reports are that he is making progress in his negotiations. Yet they have still not been able to stop the suffering that is at once urgent and slow-moving. Negotiations about returning aid groups have not yet achieved real results. So, the stomachs of one group of our nation's moral leaders will be hungering this Thursday to draw attention to people who are dying - urging the restoration of aid to the people of Sudan.

Rabbis who wish to join the last day of Rabbi Saperstein's fast on Thursday, June 18, can RSVP here.

D'var Torah: Using Our Spiritual Compass

2009-06-15T02:52:09Z

by Elyse Frishman
(Originally published in Ten Minutes of Torah and Reform Voices of Torah)

Sh'lach L'cha is about faithlessness. It's hard to comprehend the treachery of the scouts and the response of the Israelites. Throughout their wanderings, the people doubted God, yet God protected and moved them toward the Land. What caused their betrayal? The portion begins:

The Eternal spoke to Moses, saying, "Send notables to scout the land of Canaan, which I am giving to the Israelite people; send one man from each of their ancestral tribes, each one a chieftain among them." So Moses, by the Eternal's command, sent them out from the wilderness of Paran, all of them being notables, leaders of the Israelites . (Numbers 13:1-2)

The twelve men scouted the land for forty days. Upon return, ten of them spread lies among the masses, paralyzing them with fear. The people cried that it would be better to appoint new leaders and return to Egypt. The people wanted to replace Moses and Aaron!

Until now, with one exception, uprisings were spawned by complaints about food or water; they didn't undermine Moses and Aaron. That exception was the Golden Calf episode, which needs examining.

Leaving Egypt, the people journeyed with Moses for just forty-nine days when they arrived at Mount Sinai. Finally they gathered around Mount Sinai, stunned into silence by its smoking, fiery grandeur. Moses ascended and remained hidden in its heights, not for hours but for an additional forty days - allowing plenty of time for uncertainty to take seed and rebellion to break out.

Moses saw that the people were out of control . . . so that they were a menace to any who might oppose them. Moses stood up in the gate of the camp and said, "Whoever is for the Eternal, come here!" And all the men of Levi [Moses's tribe] rallied to him. (Exodus 32:25-26)

Three thousand people were killed . Moses eliminated a serious threat. But at what cost? The aftermath: God warned the people, " Butwhen I make an accounting, I will bring them to account for their sins ." God sent a plague to afflict the people "for what they did with the calf which Aaron made." (Exodus 32:34-35). God then said to Moses, who relayed these words to the people,

Set out from here, you and the people that you have brought up from the land of Egypt, to the land of which I swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, saying, "To your offspring I will give it"--I will send an angel before you, and I will drive out the Canaanites, the Amorites, the Hittites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites-- a land flowing with milk and honey. But I will not go in your midst, since you are a stiffnecked people, lest I destroy you on the way , (33:1-3).

How could the Israelites forget this harsh rebuke? I will bring you to account for your sins and I will not go in your midst.

Two years later, following the construction of the desert sanctuary, the people set off for Canaan. Did the rebuke still ring in their ears? Were the scouts concerned? Is it possible that they felt set up for failure, doomed under any circumstance?

God's words in Exodus were confusing: on one hand, God's emissaries would drive out the other peoples. This suggested that the Israelites would overcome the "giants" of the land. Yet God declared that the Divine Presence would be absent. Would the people be physically secure but spiritually endangered?

Consider now Moses's retelling of the scouts' story from Deuteronomy 1:19-23:

When we reached Kadesh-barnea, I said to you, "You have come to the hill country of the Amorites which the Eternal our God is giving to us. See, the Eternal your God has placed the land at your disposal. Go up, take possession, as the Eternal, the God of your ancestors, promised you. Fear not and be not dismayed." Then all of you came to me and said, "Let us send men ahead to reconnoiter the land for us and bring back word on the route we shall follow and the cities we shall come to." I approved of the plan, and so I selected twelve of your notables, one from each tribe.

Here, it was the people who requested that scouts be sent into the land. Were they worried that God had deserted them? Shouldn't they then have trusted the scouts? Were the scouts too afraid to bear the weight of the decision, knowing the fears and doubts of their people? Again, the people must have known that God would protect them physically; was their fear spiritual?

Importantly, Moses entreated: Lo tira, " fear not" (Deuteronomy 20:1). In English, the same word "fear" is used for mortal fright or spiritual awe. In Hebrew, though, pachad is mortal fear; yir'ah is more profound: fear in the sense of awe. Moses wasn't comforting their anxieties about the battles that lay ahead, but about the very reason for entering this Land. It was not a material existence they were moving toward, but rather a heightened one. They were to become a people of God, living by Torah, realizing the holiness of the Land and of themselves.

But they were spiritually weak and afraid, of God's expectations of them, of God. When the scouts returned with abundant fruit, and Joshua and Caleb urged them to believe that they could conquer the enemy, it did not mitigate their spiritual anxiety. It didn't matter that they could overcome the enemy in the Land; they couldn't overcome the enemy within themselves.

Thus after God's punishing decree that they would wander for forty years, the group that broke off and determined to enter the land was slaughtered. They had no spiritual core.

It seems that our ancestors did not want to trust Moses or God; after so many generations of slavery, of reliance on others, they wanted to figure it out for themselves. God declared that the next generation would enter the Land. But would they be more faithful? Children are deeply influenced by parents. Imagine two opposite scenarios unfolding over the next forty years: humbled parents not sharing the legend of their faithlessness and encouraging their children to obey Moses and the elders. Or: parents grumbling, children listening behind tent flaps, absorbing their parents' discontentment.

Indeed, the struggle to be spiritually faithful continues to this day. Life evidences against God: natural disaster, disease, all the suffering that afflicts humanity. What allows some to be faithful?

Joshua and Caleb never lost faith. Why weren't they disillusioned like the others? Caleb was Miriam's son and therefore Moses's nephew. Caleb's own son was Bezalel, the architect of the Mishkan , the desert sanctuary. Joshua was Moses's assistant and three of his accomplishments were recorded. He led the successful battle against the Amalekites (Exodus 17:8-13). He alerted Moses to the building of the Golden Calf (Exodus 32:17-18). And Joshua protested the prophesying of Eldad and Medad in last week's portion (Numbers 11:28). Both scouts would have had a keen understanding of the inner workings of the camp from high up; and both would have trusted Moses and God.

But most of us do not have this yichus , this connection to spiritual giants such as Moses, who might pull us up toward them. How do we orient our thinking, our vision, so that our faith is elevated? As we journey, how do we navigate with trust in our direction and hope for our future?

The common garden warbler spends summers in northern Germany and winters in the southern Congo. It migrates alone and at night; and though weighing barely three-quarters of an ounce, travels with great speed, averaging over 100 miles a night. Its course is true.

In 1958, a team of researchers contrived a planetarium set up so they could determine what guided the bird's flight. Projecting different star patterns on the ceiling and releasing the birds in flight, they found that the birds showed a preference for south-southeast, the direction of their migration route. But only when the sky was clear. If the night sky was hazy with city light, or clouded, or only the moon was visible, the birds flew randomly. The birds actually read the pattern of the starry sky for their physical compass (John N. Bleibtreu, The Parable of the Beast [New York: Macmillan Company, 1968], pp. 57-59).

The warbler looks up to the heavens to find its way. What it does by instinct, we must learn.

Looking up to the heavens, we witness a pattern that includes us in its heavenly expanse. We understand that our place is not to self-serve, but to fulfill a greater purpose. Guided by this, we let go of petty fears; we trust.

Guided only by an inner voice, how could we be anything but afraid? Our days are filled with challenges economic, familial--even mortal. How to cope? Shabbat beckons: ease into me, breath. Look up from your feet where you watch every step; lift your gaze into the eyes of those you love, toward the beauty of the forests and oceans, to the heavens. Regain your spiritual compass.

Rabbi Elyse Frishman is the spiritual leader of The Barnert Temple in Franklin Lakes, New Jersey. She is the editor of Mishkan T'filah, A Reform Siddur.