September 20, 2024 - 17 Elul 5784 Parasha Ki Tavo - Tools in the Kit
Dear Friends, As a parent, all we can do is the best we can do. I guess that's true of pretty much everything in life though. We have certain values, wisdom, credos, and standards, which we strive to model and pass onto our kids, through words and deeds. And yet, as we know, even if we are stellar exemplars of all we profess to stand for, what sticks with and takes root within our children is only so much within our control. At the end of the day, some of it will sink in and be internalized. Some of it won't at all. Through no fault of our own. And a lot of it will land somewhere in between, not forgotten, but maybe not as central to their lives as we'd hoped. That's just how it goes. At our now-14-year-old's Bris (circumcision) many moons ago, we shared with him: "So, Jonah Abraham, your father is a rabbi, both your grandfathers are rabbis, and your great grandfather of blessed memory, whose name we give you as your middle name, was a rabbi as well. But...no pressure." And while the phrase "you never know" is nearly always applicable, I think it's a fairly safe bet, at least at this point, that our high school freshman is unlikely to be the next rabbi in the family. And that's more than alright with Tali and me because Jonah is proud of his Judaism and his connections to our people and past, even if Tfilah (prayer) is not his favorite activity. Through school and camp, through the amazing friends he has made, being Jewish is core to his identity. Especially since his class trip to Israel, last spring, he has quickly become an ardent Zionist and lover of Israel. Having explored the Holy Land and its sacred sites, visiting our family who lives in Jerusalem, and even having to spend time in a bomb shelter during Iran's strikes in April, Israel is now a part of his Neshama, his soul, and we believe and hope, will always be. Upon coming back home, we downloaded apps so he could follow Eden Golan and her deeply powerful Eurovision song contest entry "Hurricane," written after the horrific attacks of October 7th. He felt the frustration and lamentation of the judges' anti-Israel bias while also feeling the pride of winning the "popular vote" and support of Europeans of all stripes. He felt the significance of the moment and of the song, aware of how Golan was forced to alter its original title, "October Rain," and many of its lyrics because of the harrowing and raw detail they expressed. Most, if not all of this, occurred within Jonah over the period of just a few months. And, God willing, it will always be there for him. So, when Jonah asked us, earlier in the week, to join the majority of students at his school attending today’s rally for Israel at the UN, we enthusiastically said yes. And Kvelled with pride. He is a young Jewish man now, proud of his people and traditions. And we are fiercely proud of him. This week's Torah portion, Ki Tavo, contains a passage of verses from Moses's address to the Israelites that says, "You have seen all that Adonai did before your very eyes in the land of Egypt, to Pharaoh and all his courtiers and to his whole country: the wondrous feats that you saw with your own eyes, those prodigious signs and marvels" (Deut 29:1-2). But there's a problem here that hadn't occurred to me in previous readings: the generation of Israelites that witnessed these miracles first-hand and fled Egypt was sentenced to wander the desert until they died out, so they couldn't be the same people poised to enter the Promised Land in Deuteronomy. So then, to whom is Moses speaking, if the people before him weren't actually witness to these events? The answer is that Moses is speaking to those who were children upon leaving Egypt. They were there. They saw these marvels through their own eyes as well as through those of their parents. And perhaps, Moses felt the need to remind them of this, but I'm fairly certain, for multiple reasons, it was firmly and deeply embedded in their minds, a core memory like no other. A constant reminder of God's presence, the wonders and goodness already bestowed upon us, and the ever-urgent commandment incumbent upon us to narrow the gap between the world that is and the world as it could and should be. And passing all of that L'dor Vador, from generation to generation, is the essence of Judaism and, essentially, life. We hope and pray that our children will see, feel, experience, and ultimately come to know the best and most important parts of life, the world, values, and traditions - tools in the kits we pass along to our children so that they can make the world better than how they found it, just as we ourselves were charged to do as well. Kein Y'hi Ratzon (כן יהי רצון), may this be God's will, and may this be our doing! Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Joshua Strom
|