Etching Ancestry (Tetzaveh)

You have history
carved into the bones of your shoulders
genealogical etchings handed down
l'dor va'dor, generation to generation.

We stand upon ancestral underpinnings
every step we take
springing off someone else's efforts
toes tapping forward only because they've been carried
to where they can walk
feet pressing down upon ground
and finding paths in futures
unable to be imagined
by minds focused only on furnishing opportunities
out of the options afforded them.

We are only ever as able
as we believe our children to be.

Build your priestly vestments
Robe of pure blue
rimmed with pomegranates and gold bells
ringing out ruby rivers of life
from the seeds we have sown.

An ephod of fine linen
two shoulderpieces at two ends
two stones inlaid
lapis lazuli etched
with the names of 12 tribes
six to a side
ordered by birth
and bordered by gold
two stones to two shoulders
two chains to two frames
a breastpiece that's bold
yarn of blue and purple
and crimson and gold
set square and doubled
span by a span
and filled in with stones:

Carnelian, chrysolite, emerald -- a row
then turquoise, sapphire and amethyst, though
jacinth, an agate and a crystal befo'
beryl, lapis and jasper bring it home.

One to a tribe
with light shining bright
answers spelled out in family faces
so you'll know when you're right.

The Tablets of Destiny are held in your hands
the cursed or the faultless
each at your command.
So light your perfections
and reveal your truths
but know that we join you
each moment you stand.

---

Become a Fan on Facebook.
Save to del.icio.us

Don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got(And other lessons from Tetzaveh)

--By Heinz 57

When I was 17, I had my timeline set in what I believed to be stone. Really. Emphasis placed on stone. I had my first serious boyfriend, and I envisioned a diamond ring by 20, marriage by 22 and the first kid by 24. In college, I admit, I even went to a jeweler and picked out that ring. It wasn’t the classiest of moves, but what do you expect from Kay’s Jeweler at the Holyoke Mall? The four Cs became my friend (cut, clarity, color & carats), as I picked out my ideal ring: round-cut, three stone (a .75 carat in the middle, .5 for the others), size 6, platinum band. Creepy as it sounds, my ring was so vivid that I could feel the weight of it on my finger and even caught the glare of it out of the corner of my eye.

At 26 1/2 (okay, 2/3), my plan hasn’t gone exactly the way I imagined. For one, the last conversation I had with my b'esheret of the high school days involved him asking me -- quite nicely -- not to post on his Facebook wall, as it made his current girlfriend irrationally jealous. My finger is still empty, and my tastes have shifted slightly (feel free to google “Cartier, honeymoon ring”). Don’t get me wrong (particularly you, Boyfriend), I’m happy with my life as it is. I’m in school, doing that independent woman in the big city thing, complete with a few sets of knee-high boots and a taste for fruity martinis. I’m two years past my self-prescribed due date, and I’m more than okay with that.

But as I watch my friends get engaged, I can’t help but think to myself “Princess Cut ... really?!” or “Check out the clarity on that baby!” and of course, “Three months salary, my ass.” There’s something about the diamond ring that makes me weak in the knees. It’s not just that it represents a commitment, a declaration of love or a promise to stand by each other. It’s that they are so gosh darn pretty.

Before I go any further, a confession: I fall somewhere into the vast void between hippie and JAP. I'll admit I had dreadlocks, I’m generally dirty and saving the world is top on my list of priorities. I cringe at girls whose bags cost more than my rent, or whose shoes could pay my grocery bill for a month. Fair trade is a mantra I might not live by, but a goal I hope to one day embody. I’ve belonged to such Facebook groups as “Recycle that bottle or I’ll Recycle your face” and the only reason I use plastic shopping bags is so I can recycle them when cleaning out my cat’s litter box. My SIGG water bottle is always in my backpack and I spent about 10 years of my childhood at outdoorsy environmental camps.

I also own not one, but two pairs of Uggs. I currently have a Tiffany's necklace around my neck, and my nails are freshly polished. I don’t think it’s contradictory, I just consider it my own unique style.

How can I be an environmentalist, and still drool at the site of something like jewelry? What does it really mean, at least in this day and age? We all know about blood diamonds. We all know about the pollution caused by gold mining.* We generally don’t care. Sure, I care in the hypothetical. But, I’ll tell you right now, if Boyfriend were about to propose, I wouldn’t take him off of that knee to drill him on the social awareness of his purchase.

The issue probably takes its root in the plan I made at 17. The diamond was a symbol, not of love, but of conquest. I thought that rock on my finger meant my life itself would be solid. I’ve learned now that love doesn’t really make your life solid. Love means excitement. It means fights, it means storms, it means compromises. It means being picked up and twirled. It means staying on your toes, always moving, always growing, always improving. Love is being constantly surprised by what you learn about your partner, and what it shows you about yourself. It means never knowing what might happen next, and being okay with that.

I’m sure Judaism has some straight forward lessons for love. And ... I’m not really interested in that right now. I want to know how I can show up at my next PETA meeting, look my patchouli-smoking friends in the eye and say, “Heck yeah. Diamond!” I suppose it’s safe to say that we like to see things dressed up. Whether its a clean-water inspired scarf (they exist) or the fabled solid-gold toilet of Donald Trump, we generally enjoy the pretty.

And back in the day -- way, way back in the day -- the Jewish High Priests were all about the pretty. They wore gold-adorned frocks, complete with precious stones. Think Gucci meets the Pope. The altar was about as flashy as it could be, putting those Oscar afterparties to shame. The Torah goes into extreme detail about the ornate decoration of the Tabernacle. We’re not a religion with extra words; these descriptions serve a purpose. They teach us something. They offer us a glimpse into the past. And they reassure me that it’s clearly not absurd to find beauty in the shiny.

Jennifer Lopez, not particularly the patron saint of Jews (humor me here) wisely stated, “Don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got, I’m still, I’m still Jenny from the block.” Nowadays, our bling is simply that: bling. Jenny claims her bling didn’t change her. What’s its purpose then, if not to demonstrate a rise to extreme wealth and pop-stardom?

And what was it like in the time of the Temple? The gold cherubs that sat upon the ark weren’t there simply to show off, they demonstrated a grandeur unlike anything else found on earth. The priests' golden frocks demonstrated not only that they themselves were to be admired, but also that their work was Holy. Was the gold necessary back then? Can we transfer that meaning into today's bling? Am I shallow for thinking "Yes"?

We would like to say inner beauty is what counts, and I think -- at least I hope -- that when you’re at the point in your life where that diamond ring is encroaching, you see the inner beauty above all in your partner. But our religion shows us that dressing up a priest is okay. It’s a reflection, not only of the inner, but also of the beauty of a wonderful thing: God. The gold that coated the altar came from the community as a whole, a tangible gift of something precious to celebrate something even more valuable. We like fancy.

Sometimes, we like fancy for the wrong reason. We celebrate in the superficiality. We compromise our ideals. But if we're celebrating something that is beautiful no matter how it's dressed, like the holies of Judaism or a real love, then the extra glitter is simply reflecting that majesty. It might be a stretch to say I want a diamond to worship God. But, I think it’s fair to worship Love ... and we might as well do that with something gosh darn pretty.

*(To learn more.... check out No Dirty Gold to learn more about environmentally friendly jewelry companies, or feel free to purchase something from Brilliant Earth> for yours truly. To learn more about the interplay between Judaism and the environment, take a look at Canfei Nesharim, Hazon or COEJL

---

Become a Fan on Facebook.
Save to del.icio.us

Shrinking the Self (Tetzaveh)

So while this project started -- and will continue to be -- alternative commentary for and from 20-somethings, we're not going to turn down a more ... mature voice when they have a relevant contribution. One such voice is that a mentor of mine, Rabbi V, who presided over my temple during this Brooklyn Boy's formative high school years, and a wee bit before that.

She's socially active, interesting and -- most importantly -- encouraging. She's the one who got me to understand that thinking is everything, and while the text certainly is holy, it should serve as the foundation for that greatest of Jewish traditions: Debate. Wrestle with the important issues until they make sense to you. Not agreeing is okay, but have a basis for your position. That said, here's her take on Parsha Tetzaveh:

Imagine how incredible Aaron, the High Priest, looked decked out in jewels of every color, golden armor, jingly bells on his hem and a zany headdress -- what a contrast to the burnt umber, barren landscape of the Sinai desert! Now imagine how sweltering he would have been in that outfit. Although we know the names of these cohanim -- Aaron, Nadav, Avihu, Elazar and Itamar, the institution of the priesthood pretty much obliterates their personalities. The office consumes the individual. Their clothing almost literally swallows them.

This could be a drag for the cohanim as individuals: In Parashat Shemini in Leviticus 10, Nadav and Avihu attempt to defy the rules and just be themselves. As a result, God hurls a giant fireball at them and they die instantly. But it was of great benefit to the Jews. The loss of human personality through these garments allowed the priests to be seen as celebrities. However, they were not celebrities for themselves or by their own merit -- they were celebrities because they represented all the people.

The clothing was a key to how the priests were celebrities for the people. Obviously, the bright colors were conspicuous, so when the cohanim stood before the masses, even from far away there would be no mistaking the guy in the golden breastplate. The clothing was highly symbolic. On each shoulder, Aaron wore a lapis lazuli stone on which the names of each of the twelve tribes were engraved. So all the regular people felt that they were integral to the rituals Aaron performed. Aaron, the High Priest, metaphorically carried the people on his shoulders. Having the name of their tribe on his garments was like having your sporting team or alma mater on the hat or jersey of the President. You feel validated. Less like a chump for belonging to the smallest tribe or rooting for the Cubs.

The gemstones on the breastplate had a similar function. Twelve dazzling jewels, each representing a tribe, shone from the silver breastplate during the rituals. Every tribe, and thus every member of the twelve tribes was included. When you looked at the Cohen Gadol, you knew he alone was the High Priest, but you got the sense that he was your man and that you were important in everything he did.

That the individual men who were cohanim had to check their personal identity at the door when they got into their garments meant the priests had to do some serious tzimtzum. Tzimtzum is a Hebrew term meaning shrinking oneself to allow others to grow in importance. Kabbalistic theology of the creation of the universe uses the term tzimtzum to describe how God once filled the universe, but shrank to a tiny point to allow space for the stuff of the universe to fit. Then God radiated the divine self into matter.

The cohanim also had to shrink themselves to some degree – to lose their personalities in order to leave space for all the people to gain a sense of participation and ownership of the rituals. The clothes helped the cohanim cloak their own authority, and as a result they became paradoxically more powerful because the masses bought into the new rituals instead of rejecting them and the priests as elitists know-it-alls. In a 1944 utopian piece called “After The War” novelist and essayist Henry Miller wrote that in a new era humans will realize that they can no longer hoard power: “His aim will not be to possess power, but to radiate it.” This may have been God’s goal for the priests in designing these outfits -- to radiate power outward and let all the people own some piece of power.

Last week, millions of voters went to the polls in the primary elections and caucuses to use their power of citizenship. The phenomenon of Barack Obama has been exciting to see, and interesting in light of the way that the cohanim radiated power. Obama has not tried to build a cult of personality, though he is personally popular. Instead his mode is a little bit of tzimtzum. He talks about the power of the people to make change, not just his own abilities. After Super Duper Tuesday, he spoke, saying, "We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek… We are the hope." Obama’s strength in connecting to and energizing an electorate comes not from possessing power, but in radiating it.

In the January 28, 2008 issue of the New Yorker, George Packer wrote about the differences between the celebrity of Hillary Clinton and of Barack Obama. The Obama celebrity is less personal, and more about his capacity to inspire others -- to make people believe they have power to make change. In the article, former Secretary of Labor (under Bill Clinton), Robert Reich defines the power of political inspiration as "the legitimizing of social movements and social change, the empowering of all sorts of people and groups to act as remarkable change agents."

One of the reasons that voters who really want change in this country (from cynicism to optimism at the very least) gravitate to Obama is because his candidacy suggests that we all hold a stake in change and all have the power to make change. Obama is not just running on a ticket of policy change, but on change in the process. He is running on the belief that regular Americans should not feel voiceless and excluded from democracy – elbowed out by powerful corporations or by Washington insiders.

One of the reasons the priesthood in the desert was embraced by the Israelites is that the ordinary people felt included in this radical new way of worshiping One God. The clothing of the priests assured them that the men in power were getting very little for themselves (mostly a lot of sweat, ashes and ram’s blood) and that the people as a whole were getting a lot. Tzimtzum may just be the only way to make lasting change. A person in power can fall, but a movement with a wide base can outlast the individual – even if the individual enjoys celebrity status.

---

Become a Fan on Facebook.
Save to del.icio.us