From the Rabbi
Rabbi Robert L. Wolkoff
Previous Messages
“Theology and Technology for Passover”
There are times in life when an event so compelling takes place that we are obligated to document it and keep it for future generations. Such an event is the exodus from Egypt, the story we relate over and again, year after year, at the Passover Seder. So how did the Jewish people keep the event relevant through the generations?
A few days ago, in the process of ridding my house of chometz for Passover, I came across a box with old VHS tapes, a few cassettes, and even several floppy disks. I decided to take the box to one of the stores that transfers data from old technology to new. I was happy to learn that VHS and cassettes can be converted easily to DVDs. I suspected floppies would be tricky. The storeowner disappeared into the back area of the shop and, after a while, returned with the welcome news that, indeed, it was possible to convert floppies to DVDs as well. Actually, I don’t even remember what is recorded on those plastic relics, but I figured that since I had kept them for so long, there must be something noteworthy there.
This exercise reminded me of what we experience on Seder night: one generation (let’s call it G1) converts the information it holds in a way that will engage the next generation (G2). This is the major goal of the night. Consider that the Passover Seder is child-focused, designed to inspire young minds. From the four questions to the characterizations of four types of children: the wise, the wicked, the simple, and the one who does not know how to inquire. Year after year, the story captivates the young who, in turn, hold the attention of their own children with the story of slavery to freedom — on and on through thousands of years and generations of families. How the story is told — with words, with pictures, through song and poetry, or even one day with assistance from smart phones or tablets — relies on the creativity of the leader to connect with his listeners in a way they can best process the essence of the Passover story.
Perhaps this is God’s way of helping us to sift through information, constantly keeping it up to date so that when the opportunity presents itself, we are ready to stream it to the next generation.
I hope you enjoyed a happy and thoughtful Passover.
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
“Masks”
The mask covers what we can’t simply show in our ordinary lives, something that comes from a world beyond ourselves. Our public persona is taking its Sabbath break, playing hide-and-go-seek with our parent God, who can find us under any disguise. The first “mask” was made by Adam and Eve, right after they sinned. “Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths…and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.” (Gen. 3:6-8)
Because of the fall in the Garden, because of the serpent, our direct approach to God has become a windy and vulnerable path — the way of the snake. “For he is like one who is inwardly calculating. ‘Eat and drink!’ he says to you, but his heart is not with you.” (Proverbs 23:7) In another place, Proverbs further describes this “new” human condition: “Whoever hates disguises himself with his lips and harbors deceit in his heart;” (Proverbs 26:24)
We may be able to fool people, but we cannot fool God. When it was time to replace King Saul, God conveyed to Samuel not to look at a candidate’s appearance or on the height of his stature, “For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)
What does it mean to look on the heart? We close our eyes for the Shema prayer so we can listen better. We wear costumes and mask our body in order to hear our hearts better. When we hide from others, it’s a good time to find ourselves.
When Moses came down from Mount Sinai, bringing the two tables of the testimony, he was beaming! “And the children of Israel saw the face of Moses, that the skin of Moses’ face sent forth beams; and Moses put the veil back upon his face…” (Exodus 34:35).
Purim is like the Jewish “Carnival.” Whether it is celebrated in Brazil, or as Mardi Gras in New Orleans, the carnival (meaning: without meat) marks the beginning of Lent, the period before Easter in which Christians traditionally abstain from the consumption of meat and poultry. It is to the Christians one more “Fat Tuesday” (Mardi Gras) before removing the spiritual fatty layers they’ve amassed during the year starting Ash Wednesday. Jews, too, celebrate with masks before we start the Passover period, beginning a day after Purim and a month before Passover. That’s when we begin shedding our layers and exposing our vulnerabilities.
The Shabbat before Purim is Shabbat Zachor — a Shabbat of Remembrance. We are commanded to remind ourselves and “never forget” what Amalek did to us when we were vulnerable as we left Egypt. When we shed our protective layers, we have to remember that there may be an Amalek, who would like to take advantage of our weakness, however temporary. We have to remember that when we bow down to God, at that moment we surrender. Attacking someone at that moment makes them an Amalek. The shooter in Christchurch, New Zealand, was an Amalek, taking the lives of 50 worshippers at their most vulnerable time.
It’s important to meet with other faiths all the time, not only after these events. This year, when we put on our masks, let’s remember to unveil our hearts.
Chag Purim Sameach!
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
“Bat Mitzvah in Jerusalem”
It was a beautiful winter day today in Jerusalem. We had just celebrated Eliza Garmise’s bat mitzvah at the family section of the Western Wall. Eliza stood to read the Torah right at the heart of the Jewish story. She was surrounded by her proud parents, Jason and Jessica, and her grandparents — our shul members Alan and Rochelle Garmise. Three years ago, they all stood witness to Eliza’s sister Hannah’s bat mitzvah, observed with grandma Rochelle also celebrating her belated bat mitzvah. This time, the celebration was shared with the bar mitzvah of Eliza’s friend Benjy, who was accompanied by his parents and grandparents.
It was wonderful to see the three generations standing shoulder to shoulder — mothers, daughters, and granddaughters; fathers, sons, and grandsons. Our rabbis teach us that the connection of the three generations spells out the word “stone” — as in the cornerstone of the Temple. Seven months ago, a large stone suddenly fell out of the Western Wall, right there at the family section, and many practical and spiritual speculations followed. But even if all the stones fall, the important stone of the foundation was standing in front of us in the form of three generations keeping their promise to God, as God keeps His promise to them.
My words to the teens came out of an important lesson from the weekly portion of “Ki Tisa.” One of the signs of maturity and responsibility is to keep those promises. We read about the 40 days and nights that Moses goes away to bring down the two tablets. The people somehow believe he is late (“boshesh” 32:1), even though he actually returned on the same day. But the people demanded a visible God, something to believe in right then and there. By creating the Golden Calf, they were violating the cardinal prohibition of having no other gods.
The golden calf was not the first time the covenant between Man and God was broken because of not waiting a little longer. The midrash also tells us that Eve and Adam ate from the Tree of Knowledge on the same day they were created. Had they waited a bit, they would have entered a peaceful Sabbath.
The common thread between the Golden Calf and the Tree of Knowledge is “instant.” To be in a hurry, and in a hurry to know. If we let our FOMO (fear of missing out) control us, then we instantaneously lose our relationship to God. God gives Moses the tablets right after His mandate to keeping Shabbat. “And the people of Israel shall observe the Shabbat for their generations as an eternal covenant.” (Exodus 31:16) Perhaps the essence of God’s creation is exactly that — to take our time, to slow down, to keep Shabbat, to nourish the generational connections, of becoming a bat/bar mitzvah — the cornerstone of the covenant.
Blessings from Jerusalem,
Rabbi Gadi Capela
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