It was in the second or third grade that I began to study Chumash. I remember beginning at the beginning, with Parashat Bereshit. It must have been in third, or perhaps even fourth, grade that we reached this week’s Torah portion, Vayeshev (Genesis 37:1-40:23).
There are many ways to interpret biblical texts. Some commentaries take a literal approach, others probe for deeper meanings.
When I recall the great teachers I was blessed with over the course of my lifetime, I realize that one thing comes to mind: they were a diverse group.
There are jokes which are very funny on the surface, but which, upon reflection, can be quite painful and disturbing.
The class devoted to the study of leadership, using the book of Genesis as a text, was proceeding well. On this, the ninth session, it reached a new depth. It did so by paying careful attention to the subtleties of the Hebrew language.
"We are stumped," reported Richard on behalf of the little group, who had just begun the Joseph story. "The narrative was fascinating, but we found it difficult to identify basic Jewish concepts in the midst of this intriguing plot."
You thought your life would run smoothly, right? We all do. Then, something comes off, tragic or happy, which proves to us that life is not smooth at all, and probably is not supposed to be.
Envy is surely one of the most insidious of human emotions. It is a self-destructive emotion, because it often leads a person to act against his own best interests, as he attempts to redress the situation that caused him so much envy.
This phrase occurs in the very first blessing of the Amidah, the eighteen blessings commonly referred to as Shemoneh Esreh, the centerpiece of the prayer service recited in the synagogue at least three times every day. The blessing praises the Patriarchs, Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, and calls upon the Almighty to take account of their benevolent deeds and to bring us the redemption that we seek as the descendants of the men whose entire lives were models of exemplary loving-kindness.
It is not just in teaching texts that we must adjust our teaching to the maturity level of our audience. We must do so all the more when we discuss the nature of the divine.
You don't hear much about them, and sometimes you don't even know their names. But they are the true heroes and heroines in our lives and in our times. As I hope to demonstrate, it was also true in biblical times that very important characters in the narrative are hardly mentioned, perhaps only hinted at.
There is an expression that we often use when we say goodbye. Most of us pay no attention to what we are saying. I doubt that very many of those who use the expression really mean it.
The class I was teaching on the subject of leadership, using the book of Genesis as a source text, was proving to be quite a learning experience for me. The diversity of the students in the class was proving to be especially important, because each student was stressing a different aspect of leadership. The class confirmed for me that, as Rabbi Nachman of Breslav put it, "Every shepherd has his own melody."
I was beginning to learn a necessary lesson, one which I would advise all teachers to learn. It was finally dawning upon me that the most effective thing I could do with this little class of three was simply to listen. Richard, Simon, and Leon had much to say and they were almost always "right on." Had I come into the class each session with a prepared lecture, I would only have bored them and, worse, turned them off. By allowing them to present their own ideas, they were beginning to take charge of their learning, and, more impressive, of their Jewish religious growth.
There is something special about meeting up with an old friend that one hasn't seen in years. I recently had just such a special experience, when I spent a weekend in a community where a friend I hadn't seen in 10 years resides.
As I recall, it was at the end of a particularly long and grueling day for me. I had a series of rabbinical meetings, delivered a talk during lunch which provided me no opportunity to eat, and was involved in an unsuccessful attempt to keep the marriage of a young couple from breaking up. I was looking forward to the respite of some quiet time on the return trip to my home in Baltimore, but even that luxury was denied to me that evening.
Quite some time has gone by since we celebrated the holiday of Sukkot. Frankly, there is much about that holiday that I have already forgotten. But one memory remains etched in my mind, one biblical phrase that was part of the Sukkot service that continues to haunt me.
"Who am I?" This is the most powerful question that a person ever asks himself. For many of us, there are no easy answers to that question. We are uncertain of our own identities.
He may or may not have been an anti-Semite, but he sure was an abrasive personality. He was my seat mate on an Amtrak train, returning to Baltimore from New York some years ago.
Up until this point, the seventh session of the class using the book of Genesis to explore the concept of leadership, my role as teacher was a very easy one. The students not only participated eagerly, but vied for opportunities to speak. Moreover, they invariably had a great deal to say.
"Dreams and angels," said Richard. "That's what it's all about, and there are some major Jewish concepts right there."
How do you define "maturity"? The dictionary definition asserts that it is a state of being full-grown, ripe, or fully developed. But I think that the common man gives a subjective definition to maturity in one of two other ways.
It is commonly assumed that parents know their children much better than anyone else knows them. After all, parents have had the opportunity to observe their children from their earliest years, from their infancy, and in most instances observed them daily as they grew.