In Dreams Begin Responsibilities (portion Miketz)

“In dreams begin responsibilities.”

When we first meet Joseph, as a teenage boy, he is blessed with prophetic, visionary dreams but profoundly lacking in wisdom.  He foolishly flaunts his reveries at his brothers’ expense, thereby earning their deep enmity.  His dreams of dominion are, in fact, accurate—but he does not yet know what to do with them.  He speaks when he should be silent.  Joseph’s prophetic gifts run deep—but they blind him to the needs and feelings of others.  He is brilliant but insensitive, rich in vision but impoverished in empathy and action.

Decades later, in this week’s portion, Miketz, Joseph grows up.  Pain and adversity teach him compassion.  Enslavement and imprisonment open his eyes to the suffering of others.   Joseph learns how to listen, how to see into the hearts of those around him.  This wisdom enables him to develop his prophetic potential into powerful action.

Pharaoh calls upon Joseph to interpret two parallel dreams.  Joseph does this—but does not stop there.  He goes on to offer policy advice based on his interpretation: Pharaoh should set up a detailed system over all of Egypt to collect and store up food during the seven years of plenty, so that there will be provisions when the seven years of famine strike.  Here, Joseph moves from words to acts.  He acknowledges that in interpreting dreams, he is a mere vessel, channeling God.  But the choice to translate those interpretations into a course of action is his alone.  As Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz notes: “From being a dreamer of dreams, Joseph became the person of the dream... a man who experienced the dream... as a burden and a responsibility and a course of action from which there could be no digression.

We may not all have the gift to accurately interpret our dreams.  But we can assume responsibility for them.  That is, after all, just assuming responsibility for ourselves.”

The Jewish writer Delmore Schwartz wrote story whose title is adapted from a poem by W.B. Yeats: In Dreams Begin Responsibilities.  Indeed.   As we grow older—and hopefully, wiser and more compassionate—our challenge is to translate our dreams and visions into well-chosen actions.  During this week, which celebrates light and miracles, let’s think about how to live up to the responsibilities imposed by our dreams.

Happy Chanukah to all!

Light in the Darkness (portion Vayeshev)

Sometimes hope emerges in unexpected times and places, if we remain open to the possibility of light emerging out of darkness.

Our Torah portion for this week, Vayeshev is filled with loss and despair.  Jacob mourns bitterly for his beloved son Joseph, whom he believes is dead.  Meanwhile, Joseph (who has, in fact, been sold into slavery by his brothers) is carried into exile in Egypt, where he will languish for many years in Pharaoh’s prison.  As the portion ends, despite Joseph’s gift for dreaming and dream interpretation, he is essentially forgotten.  In the darkest depths of the dungeon, all hope seems lost.

It is no coincidence that we often read this parashah around the beginning of Chanukah (this year, the Festival of Lights begins on Saturday night).  Chanukah arrives at the darkest season of the year, at the new moon closest to the winter solstice.  The situation of the Maccabees, pitted against the mighty Assyrian empire, also seems hopeless.   Like Joseph, they face a dark night of the soul.  The old, familiar, comfortable paths are all closed off to them.  They face overwhelming odds, with little sustenance and profoundly limited options.

And yet Joseph ultimately rises and the Maccabees prevail.  Each of these incredible underdogs defies the probabilities—and each begins by nurturing a tiny spark of light.  Joseph always holds the memory of his youthful dreams, and the possibility that they might yet come true.  The Maccabees muster the faith and courage to kindle light.  In both cases, there are no guarantees that the flames of hope will endure.  But Joseph and the Maccabees share the wisdom that in dark times, we must ignite our own little lights and hope that others—including God—will sustain them.  We must take the first steps to banish darkness, and believe that when we do, our efforts will find succor and bring reward, to ourselves and/or to others who will follow.

May this season of light bring hope and renewal to us all.

Seeking Peace, Preparing for War (portion Vayishlach)

How do we know when a peace offering is sincere?

Our Torah portion, Va-yishlach, raises just this question—which is more timely than ever.  Jacob and Esau are born into enmity, struggling mightily for supremacy while still in their mother’s womb.  Eventually, Jacob and Rebecca connive to steal the blessing that Isaac intends to give Esau, and Esau responds by threatening to murder his deceitful younger brother.

As this week’s portion begins, twenty years have passed since their ugly parting, and the two adversaries are reunited.  As Torah describes the encounter, Esau runs toward Jacob, falls on his neck, and, weeping, kisses him.  This seems to play like a Hollywood ending.  The brothers reconcile and move forward in peace.

Yet our commentators are quick to note that in the Torah text, the Hebrew word for “kiss”—va-yishakayhu—contains dots written over each letter.  This is highly unusual.  Rashi suggests that these dots may point to the “kiss” being less than sincere.  A medieval midrash even goes so far as to propose that instead of kissing Jacob, Esau actually bites him.  There is no  peaceful resolution; the two remain bitter enemies.

Others interpreters insist that this line is too cynical, and the reconciliation is genuine.  As Rabbi Jeffrey Salkin describes the scene: “Jacob approaches tentatively and bows low.  Esau, however, runs to meet him and embrace him, falling on Jacob’s neck and kissing him.  What genuine and caring actions!  After all these years and his own agony and sense of betrayal, Esau has come prepared to embrace his brother Jacob and Jacob’s family.”

Finally, Aviva Zornberg offers a middle ground, which portrays the brothers’ encounter as neither wholly positive nor entirely negative.  She notes: “The brothers’ embrace resembles Jacob’s encounter with the angel.  It is a combination of hugging in love and grappling in struggle, as each one wants to merge with the other but also to defeat him.”

How do we read this text?  Are we optimists or pessimists?  Naïve or cynical?  Or somewhere in between?  This is no theoretical question, for it is also at the root of our understanding of the recent cease-fire between Israel and Hamas.  Should we rejoice and see this as an opening for real peace?  Should we view it as a cynical ploy by Hamas, with no hope whatsoever to endure?  Or should we follow Aviva Zornberg’s view, which would have us recognize the possibility of real reconciliation—but also advise that we keep our guard against an enemy who still wishes to defeat us, given the opportunity?

Count me in that centrist position.  I believe that Israel should pursue every possibility of peace, no matter how slim—while also preparing for the kind of war that would crush Hamas militarily before they crush us.

We shall see what the coming weeks and months bring.

Start with the Resistance (portion Vayetze)

“The lady doth protest too much, me thinks.”

With this famous and oft-quoted line, Shakespeare reminds us that vehement arguments and fervent emotions are often signs of intense inner conflicts.  In such cases, our true feelings are the opposite of what we so adamantly and publicly express.  Or, as Freud suggested in analysis, to get to the heart of the matter, start with the resistance.

This week’s Torah portion, Vayetze, tells us that Jacob hated his Leah.   Such strong words!  One can understand Jacob feeling less passion for Leah than for her younger sister, his much-beloved Rachel.  But why would his adoration of Rachel create such loathing for Leah?  Perhaps Jacob’s hatred is rooted in the circumstances of his marriages.  Jacob is tricked by his father-in-law, Laban, into wedding Leah before Rachel.  Reflecting on Jacob’s personal history, Rabbi Harold Kushner comments:

“Knowing what we know of human psychology, we can also suspect that Jacob did, indeed, hate Leah because, by reminding him of the fraudulent circumstances of their wedding, she reminded him of his most shameful memory, the time he deceived his father.  We often hate people for confronting us with what we like least about ourselves.”

We often hate people for confronting us with what we like least about ourselves.  Those closest to us can act as mirrors into our own souls—and we may react badly when we do not like what they reflect back at us.  One of the most powerful lines in our Yom Kippur liturgy comes from a contemporary interpretation of the “Al Chayt” confession of sins: “For condemning in our loved ones the faults we tolerate in ourselves.”  Indeed.

This week, when you find yourself feeling or acting with a disproportionate level of emotional agitation, consider the possibility that what you see in someone else is shining an uncomfortable light into your own psyche.  Start with the resistance.  Our reactions to those nearest and dearest to us can, with insight and effort, become a calling to introspection and self-improvement.  Jacob’s impatience with his wife’s duplicitousness might have led him to recognize and root out his own.  So, too, can our awareness of hate and anger and fear move us to love and compassion and faith.

A Long Awaited Day

Last night, Boise's mayor and city counsel held a hearing on a new law banning discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity.  Since it has been impossible to even get a reading for such an ordinance in the state legislature, the city of Boise is now leading the way.

Over 60 people testified--probably 50 of whom were in support of the law.  I heard extraordinarily moving stories from LGBT people, their parents and children and friends.  All together, it was a lesson in what it is like to live in fear of losing one's job, benefits, housing--simply on account of who one loves.

And make no mistake, the people in power got this lesson.  They voted unanimously to pass this ordinance.  After five hours, there was applause--and tears.  A community that has suffered terrible bigotry and callousness in this state felt heard by their elected officials, for the first time.

I'm posting my own testimony below.  It was a proud day for this city.

City Council Testimony  Nov 13, 2012

Mr. Mayor and Members of the Council, Members of the LGBT community, and family and friends:

I am Rabbi Dan Fink, representing Congregation Ahavath Beth Israel, established in 1895, its board of directors and its member families, gay and straight. 

I come before you as a representative of a faith community, in deep humility.  For centuries, we religious people have wielded faith as a club against gay and lesbian people.  We have used God and Scripture, which should be all about love and liberty, to promote bigotry and hatred.   We have acted just like those religious people who used their sacred texts to justify slavery one hundred and fifty years ago.   These attitudes are not gone; you have heard such hurtful words, veiled in the language of faith, spoken here tonight.  But I believe that in light of this sad past, those of us who speak for churches and mosques and synagogues owe the LGBT community a deep apology and, more importantly, a concerted effort to repent and make amends. 

We can change the way understand our sacred texts, whether they be the Bible or the US constitution.  In fact, I believe that the greatness of this nation lies in its evolving history of interpreting ever more generously and inclusively, of expanding rather than curtailing basic liberties.  In the beginning, we granted human rights only to property-owning white men.  Over the last two centuries, we have thankfully extended those rights to African-Americans, immigrants, women, and now the LGBT community.

I pray that the City of Boise will, in that grand tradition, lead the way.  There can be no doubt in which direction the future lies.  Just walk into, say, Boise High School, and look at attitudes on sexual orientation among our young people.  Look at the results of last Tuesday night.  Those opposing full protection and equal rights for the LGBT community, on the basis of either the Bible or the Constitution are doomed to be dinosaurs, like those defending slavery back in 1860.  Tonight, we face a choice.  We can resist progress and become a reactionary backwater.  Or we can shine forth as a beacon of progress, a city that lives up to the ideal of “liberty and justice for all.”

I believe that the compassionate, equitable and even sacred choice is very clear