Shabbat Parah 5783: Purity of Vision

Sermon at Temple Israel of Alameda on Shabbat Parah, 18th Adar, 5783.

What does it mean to prepare oneself for Pesach? From a practical standpoint, it might mean cleaning the house and sorting through all of the chametz, the leavened food – setting it aside or selling it to a non-Jewish neighbor. This process, plus finding matzah and other Passover foods, then preparing for seder, take up most of the conversation about preparing today.

The rabbis thought about the holidays differently. I have to say a big reason they were able to focus on spiritual preparation is that none of them were responsible for the physical preparation. In a society where women clean and cook, men can focus on “higher level” activities. 

So they created four special Shabbats to precede Pesach. This is similar to the seven weeks that precede Rosh HaShanah, where our haftarot focus on the calendar and moving from the depths of Tisha B’Av (the 9th of Av) to Rosh HaShanah (the 1st of Tishrei). 

As I mentioned before, the first special Shabbat occurs during Parashat Mishpatim and is called Shabbat Shekalim. The special maftir portion for that Shabbat is the first 6 verses of this week’s parshah. During the census, all Israelite men were required to pay a half-shekel ransom for the maintenance of the Tent of Meeting. 

Shabbat Zachor is the second special Shabbat, which occurs before Purim. That’s when we remember Amalek, the eternal enemy of Israel. We are supposed to remember to kill every Amalekite, though there haven’t been living Amalekites for quite some time. Even the Talmud talks about the problem of having no Amalekites to fight. Since the Amalekites were evil, the rabbis eventually settled on discussing the problem of evil in the world and the evil inclination, the Yetzer HaRa, internally as a focus for this Shabbat.

Now we are on Shabbat Parah Adumah, the Shabbat of the Red Heifer. Perhaps it would be better if like most of the Reform Jewish world, I ignored this Shabbat. After all, the prophetic portion begins with God declaring: “O mortal, when the House of Israel dwelt on their own soil, they defiled it with their ways and their deeds; their ways were in My sight like the uncleanness of a menstruous woman.” (Ezekiel 36:18)

I wish I could say that all modern humans understand there is nothing unclean about a menstruous woman. Alas, that is far from the truth. Menstruation, fertility, and procreation continued to be political issues. Women’s bodies and the bodies of all marginalized gender identities are subjected to male control, often in the name of religious beliefs.

A few weeks ago, I spoke about the variety of Jewish perspectives on abortion. Today, let me say a few words about nidah, the menstruous woman. 

While all other impurity laws became obsolete with the destruction of the Second Temple, nidah became codified to an extreme. Even sitting on a chair that was sat on by a nidah made a man impure. Lilith, the first wife of Adam who refused to be subservient to him and became a demon, is also a repository of the rabbinic gaze. 

Due to the limitations of science in ancient times, Jews, like most people, believed that male seed entered an empty womb and created a child. Thus, only the seed was venerated in Jewish tradition. Nocturnal emission makes a man impure because he has wasted life, not because he is physically dirty. Contrast that to how separated the niddah traditionally is, not just during bleeding, but for a minimum of 12 days. 

So how can we take this tradition seriously without taking it literally?

First, we can consider the concept of purity. 

In today’s always on world, it can be quite difficult to maintain focus on the spoken word. Your mind has probably drifted, your eyes glazed over a bit at some point during this sermon. Which is totally okay. To be perfectly honest, it happens to me as well. I only have one trick for staying focused on verbal communication that is not accompanied by visual stimuli: taking notes. Taking notes on what someone says gives me an additional thing to focus on, and a way to respond to ideas. 

How else can we create the conditions for having the ability to fully listen to the people around us? We can set an intention at the beginning of a conversation. We can steady ourselves through active breathing. We could choose prayer, though that seems to be the last thing on people’s mind when it comes to mindfulness.

I come back to this tradition, and particularly the holiday cycle, because it guides my soul’s journey. My intentions, my mind, my body: none of them will ever be completely pure. That’s okay. I’m not striving to be an angel. I’m striving to be the best Sara bat Fayge Rivka u’Moshe that I can be. 

What tools do we have for recommitting ourselves and reimagining our community? We have a volunteer structure. And we have a small staff that will soon be full of brand new people. Yet, like Jews who believe in the niddah purity laws, we too have structures in place that seem like holy pillars that can’t change. 

I am sad that we won’t be celebrating Passover seder together this year. It’s surprising how most Jews connect over seder in ways they don’t connect with other holidays. The simple fact is that no one volunteered to coordinate a communal seder and therefore it had to be canceled. 

Some of our stalwart volunteers feel strongly about being Covid cautious, while others have decided it is time to remove all Covid-related restrictions. That’s another area where acknowledging our differences makes us stronger. 

Even without gathering for seder, we continue to be a kahal kadosh, a holy community. Perhaps holiness is more important than purity. Yet there is one sense of purity I think we need to hold onto.

A pure vision is a clear vision. Purity indicates separation. As we regrow ourselves and renew ourselves, we’ll need to accept our inherent limitations. Rather than doing absolutely everything that we’ve always done, we’ll need to take the leap and limit ourselves. Find ways to work together to create meaningful opportunities for the community. Embrace our differences. Work together to raise the money needed to operate our institution. And enjoy ourselves. 

Even as we limit ourselves, we need to open ourselves to change. Here are some of the ideas that have been swirling around my mind.

We need to find new ways to crack open Jewish prayer for our wider community and frankly, for those of you who join me here in the sanctuary and via Zoom. 

We should make space for honest conversations about the place of the Bible in our lives and in our Jewish identities. We should consider how we want to engage the breadth of Jewish tradition, and whether study is a part of that. 

We should consider how to hold space for our individual souls and for the souls around us. In addition to the thriving social clubs, do we need soul clubs? A space to reflect on our spiritual journeys?

Do we want to engage our souls through an ethical lens? Many of our Amitim class have the types of Torah portions not meant for twelve year-olds. Often, I’ve expanded my discussion with them to include a wider range of Jewish topics. One that keeps coming up is ethics. Should we study Musar together?

Does anyone want to hear more about my concept of ethical mysticism?

The depths of Judaism are infinite. In five lifetimes, we’d never be able to read all of the books of wisdom available to us. We now have the opportunity to purify our vision for ourselves and our kahal kadosh, our holy community. Where would you like to begin?

I look forward to discussing these ideas with you in the weeks and months ahead. Please feel free to reach out via email to schedule time to talk. My virtual door is often open. Though, please know that I won’t be responding to email on Shabbat or Mondays. 

I am really excited about the future we are building together. The East Bay community needs us. Jewish Alamedans need us.

Together, we’re building a stronger Temple Israel. Together, we’re cleaning up our own spiritual paths and helping one another live into our best selves. Together, we can walk towards liberation and revelation. 

Shabbat shalom.