Tzav is interested in the distinction between what is offered and what is eaten. The fat of ox, sheep or goat – all kosher animals – cannot be eaten. In this portion, Torah goes on to investigate what can be eaten.
I suppose we are starting to imagine here ritual meals separate from or alongside sacrificial offerings.
I like this. Post biblical – post priestly ritual – we have to find different ways to engage with these descriptions of animal flesh. We know that gathering to eat is a major part of Jewish communal life. I have loved hosting Shabbat at the Rabbi’s meals in the community, not just Chavurah suppers in the building, which are always fun, but me (and often Anthony too) cooking and preparing Shabbat lunch or Friday night dinner and a few of us eating around my kitchen table. I like investing time and effort in what we eat, which only adds to our conversation and togetherness. Eating together is a key Jewish experience. We are planning our FPS seder 23rd April menu right now. (Remember to book).
We create our own contemporary Ohel Moeid, tent of meeting, for the people we care about. I like cooking my grandmother’s roast chicken recipe for meat eaters, and going rogue into Ottolenghi vegetable recipes for our vegetarian guests.
See what you think of this blessing written by Leah Koenig and Anna Stevenson called the ‘Cooking Bracha’:
“Blessed are You
Creator of the world
Who brings forth fruit from the Earth.
Blessed are You,
Who gives us knowledge of cooking and time to cook
And who has blessed us with the need for nourishment
so that we can fully understand Your gifts.
May it be Your will
That the food that I cook
Bring nourishment, fulfillment, and happiness
to those who eat it
And bring honour to the land and all the people that make this meal possible.”
Here’s to more meals together and remember to book in for the next one Shabbat lunch on 27 April in my kitchen
This Shabbat we will be praying for:
Ron Benjamin
Yair and Eitan Horn
Yarden, Shiri, Ariel and Kfir Bibas
PURIM
This is the first ‘full on’ Jewish holiday post the massacre on 7th October and the war on Gaza. Chanukah was more gentle in our homes. Purim requires synagogue gathering. This year, we must still ensure our Jewish year gets marked. Our children get to experience the silliness of this unusual book of Esther that captures Diaspora Jewish life, as long as we acknowledge the piquancy of the back drop to Purim celebrations this year. I see Rachel Polin Goldberg, mother of Hirsch, as a modern day Esther, speaking truth to power and calling for an end of suffering for all peoples caught in this horror. We adults can have that sensitivity and as Rabbi John D. Rayner wrote in 1987, as Purim came back into Liberal Judaism:
It is all harmless good fun and salutary way of letting off steam provided that you only do it once in a long while and that you know what you are doing. It is when the Book of Esther is taken in dead earnest and when its Cowboys and Indians mentality is carried over into real life and becomes a basis of judgement in actual political conflict it is only then that it becomes dangerous.
But we at FPS will be having a brief and engaged Megillah and Spiel to honour our festival and do so in the most thoughtful way possible. Please join us – this year all the more so. Saturday 5p.m.
Tots and Children fancy dress parade, than our Megillah and Spiel, followed by a feast of wine, hamantaschen and snacks. All will be done by 6.15 / 6.30p.m. and we will have fulfilled the compulsion to hear the Megillat [Book of] Esther.
I wrote for Liberal Judaism a Thought for this Week on Parashat Vayikra. Click here to read on The Crumbley family convictions and a modern take on Sacrifice.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rebecca
“The money and the [Jewish] people are yours to do with as you see fit.”(Book of Esther 3:8)
Purim has always been understood as the most joyful day of the year. Silliness, dressing up, a carnival-Mardi Gras mood prevails. However, the Book of Esther is, as we know, a story of intense crisis and violence.
Initially, Jews face the existential threat of being attacked and destroyed, then at the end, Jews kill their enemies on a massive scale. It was considered so violent, so embarrassing even, that Liberal Judaism banned its celebration for decades. Rabbi John Rayner stated Purim has long been a bête noire in Liberal Judaism. It has been described as unhistorical, irreligious and unethical. It was only brought back in the 1980s when he preached that the community could cope with levity and imaginative play.
I wonder what he would say this year.
In the wake of October 7, these crises of Purim feel very real as we mourn unimaginably cruel acts of violence against Israelis, witness increased antisemitism and fear in Jewish communities worldwide and witness so many Palestinians killed in recent months.
I’m intrigued by what the Book of [Megillat] Esther teaches us about holding together both realities of violence against Jews and violence by Jews. Many communities are choosing to look at this prior to next Saturday’s Purim, when our children and musicians will help tell the story. What might we glean from the story this year, especially about responding in moments of deep fear?
This Shabbat we will learn and discuss during the service – deepening our Jewish literacy and sharing it.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rebecca
‘Rest is the conversation between what we love to do and how we love to be… rested we care again for the right things and the right people in the right way. In rest we re-establish the goals that make us more generous [and] more courageous…’*
I love these words by the poet David Whyte. He captures so well what can happen when we stop. I confess to worshipping often capacity and busyness and energy and elastic time as an end in itself. It never occurred to me as someone who had, I thought, understood Shabbat, that longer pause can indeed be a sacred act.
Somewhere, we know that the silent pause between musical notes serves the notes themselves. The white behind and between the black inked letters of Torah serve to create full words and meanings and if we are lucky, the opportunity to step away from our desks, our daily tasks and those emails, can and will refresh and invigorate our sense of things.
That pause has been so for me. I have studied, read and read more, I’ve spent time on new prayers and praying. I have written without deadlines; I have paid attention to family when they have most needed it. I have taken time to think – and I’ve been reminded anew of the courage and generosity in people here at FPS.
No surprise to find this week’s Torah portion of Vayakel, at the end of Exodus, echoing back this past month for us. A reminder to keep Shabbat and sacred rest (if anything, to help us be more productive) and then we are told about the power of generosity and open heartedness in being part of building, the mishkan – sanctuary. It is speaking directly to us, isn’t it?
“Everyone” whose heart so moves him or her shall bring gifts,כֹּ֚ל נְדִ֣יב לִבּ֔וֹ
Translated as anyone with a willing or generous heart.
I have watched this congregation, full of generous souls, volunteering of their time, their resources, giving funds to our own sanctuary, “all whose heart is willing.” Distance allowed an amazement and pride in what we have managed and what we will, I hope, manage more: the generosity of the hearts that make up our congregation, those who have given financially and those who give of their own time and skill. The word Kol is repeated 35 times in this Torah chapter alone. It means all, each, every. It emphasises the power of congregation, of community, of equity, of collaboration in whatever we put our mind to. Having observed my own ‘Shabbat’ I’m so grateful for the generosity of all the hearts back here.
Thank you for honouring me with this short sabbatical and giving us all that sacred pause to consider. I look forward to seeing what more our willing, generous hearts bring.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rebecca
Rabbi Rebecca shared this poem with us as words that speak to this Shabbat and this moment of time:
Wildpeace
Not the peace of a cease-fire,
not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb,
but rather
as in the heart when the excitement is over
and you can talk only about a great weariness.
I know that I know how to kill,
that makes me an adult.
And my son plays with a toy gun that knows
how to open and close its eyes and say Mama.
A peace
without the big noise of beating swords into ploughshares,
without words, without
the thud of the heavy rubber stamp: let it be
light, floating, like lazy white foam.
A little rest for the wounds—
who speaks of healing?
(And the howl of the orphans is passed from one generation
to the next, as in a relay race:
the baton never falls.)
Let it come
like wildflowers,
suddenly, because the field
must have it: wildpeace.
Yehuda Amichai, “Wildpeace” from Selected Poetry. Copyright © 1996 by Yehuda Amichai. Reprinted by permission of University of California Press.
Rabbi Rebecca shared this poem with us as words that speak to this Shabbat and this moment of time:
Parashat Tetzaveh describes the priestly garb worn by Aaron and his sons in their roles for the community, from their uniforms to the explicit direction for all they did in that Tent of Meeting. This poem by Nikita Gill captures ancestors and the passage of time, change and pride.
Your ancestors did not survive everything
That nearly ended them
For you to shrink yourself
To make someone else comfortable.
This sacrifice is your war cry,
be loud,
be everything
and make them proud.
Nikita Gill
Rabbi Rebecca shared this poem with us as words that speak to this Shabbat and this moment of time:
The Peace of Wild Things
By Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Mishpatim this week talks of shared laws and commandments that create community. Marge Piercy has a beautiful take on the strength and power of relationships – rather like what FPS has built.
Rabbi Rebecca shared this poem with us as words that speak to this Shabbat and this moment of time:
The Low Road by Marge Piercy
What can they do
to you? Whatever they want….
Alone, you can fight,
you can refuse, you can
take what revenge you can
but they roll over you.
But two people fighting
back to back can cut through
a mob, a snake-dancing file
can break a cordon, an army
can meet an army.
Two people can keep each other
sane, can give support, conviction,
love, massage, hope, sex.
Three people are a delegation,
a committee, a wedge. With four
you can play bridge and start
an organization. With six
you can rent a whole house,
eat pie for dinner with no
seconds, and hold a fund raising party.
A dozen make a demonstration.
A hundred fill a hall.
A thousand have solidarity and your own newsletter;
ten thousand, power and your own paper;
a hundred thousand, your own media;
ten million, your own country.
It goes on one at a time,
it starts when you care
to act, it starts when you do
it again and they said no,
it starts when you say We
and know who you mean,
and each day you mean one more.
This week is HIAS/JCORE’S Refugee Shabbat. It is an opportunity for us to share the work of our congregation, in alliance with Citizens UK and our local Barnet institutions, in offering support, guidance and friendship to those who have fled unsafe homes before arriving here. For us, the empathy at the heart of Jewish life comes from our early identity in Torah; take, for instance, the ten commandments;
2 And God spoke all these words: “I am the Eternal your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.”
We’ve been taught that the experience of being there in ‘Egypt,’ suffering as strangers, informs all Jewish identity henceforth. I think a great deal about what this means and the fact the fifth commandment states clearly that Shabbat must be observed by everyone in your household, from your child to the stranger that lives within the community.
“Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Eternal your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns.”
I welcome these foundational texts that speak to how we negotiate our place in the world. And that feels right for us at FPS. I hope you might come along this Shabbat, where we have invited friends to join us.
Talking of Shabbat rests, during the rest of February, I will be taking a mini sabbatical from allotted time, a moment to pause. Services and learning are covered and of course, if you need any pastoral time, please do reach out to Caroline or Beverley, who will direct you smoothly. I will be back at the start of March and look forward to seeing you then, if I don’t see you over this weekend.
Shabbat Shalom
Rebecca.
This week is Tu B’Shevat. This really just means the 15th Shevat – the date in the Hebrew calendar for the New Year for trees. We have other kinds of New Years: Nisan is the first month; Rosh Hashanah is the Head of the year; there was one for Kings and Queens too. But on this day we connect with trees. For all of us who don’t cultivate orchards, it feels anachronistic in a way. Most of us just tend our gardens or appreciate the trees in Kenwood, Trent Park or even Dollis Brook. After Storm Isha there has been significant damage to and by trees. Trees are among us. There are so many Jewish teachings about trees. This festival calls on us to be awake and alive to our environment.
“Take care not to spoil or destroy My world,” says another midrash, “for if you do, there will be no one to repair it after you.” (Midrash Ecclesiastes Rabbah)
We often lose touch with nature and the importance of our trees. Last Sunday, Anthony and I walked the entirety of Regent’s Canal, all 10 miles of it, passing trees growing through unlikely patches of cement by the water. We did a little picking up litter ahead of Tu B’Shevat. My friend Rabbi Janet Burden apparently spotted her first snowdrop near the canal in Paddington.
Our plans for FPS are built upon a concern to be more environmentally friendly, more responsible, more caring. To secure our building’s future, we will be leaning in to that and, of course, planting trees.
Keep looking at our plans – and that auspicious tree at our new entrance, using our up-cycled door. (Click here for link to plans)
I hope we will manage a congregational walk like this one, or a swim, or a communal planting – all to help us ensure we can do this renewal and repair. Don’t forget all donations will be matched for another 8 days.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rebecca
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