A Generous Community: Parshat Vayakhel

REAL LIFE COMMUNITIES

We all have different communities, starting from the micro, in person ones, to the macro-ones, some of which are virtual. My micro-one is my immediate family, and sadly enough I lost two beloved members this year, my husband of more than 60 years and my older sister who was six years older than I. I keep pictures of them facing me, in my living room, along with my parents. Every now and then, I look up and see them and depending on my mood, am either grateful for the time we had, or sad, that they are no longer with me. Following on the micro level is my immediate framily [friends and family] of about 6 couples, who get together on a regular basis. Once we were more and now sadly even this group is getting smaller. Another group which feels like family is the support group I have been attending for caretakers of parents and significant others. After four years our group remained steady, despite the fact that almost half of us are now in the status of widows and widowers.

Then there is our kehillah in Omer, which you might note has the same root as this week’s parsha Vayakhel. I am inspired to write about them because this is a community that we came to in 1974, after the Yom Kippur War. It has had a profound influence on my life and we have in turn impacted the lives of many others as well. My husband, Rabbi Michael Graetz, and I came here to a small community with about 15 families that wanted a Conservative Synagogue. When we came, I knew almost everyone who lived in Omer. After one year of renting, we decided that this would be our home and we sold our apartment in Jerusalem and purchased the house that I still live in. We built the synagogue, moving first from a room in the elementary school and then to the permanent grounds in the 1980’s. Our children grew up here, and two of them were inspired to become rabbis, following in their father’s footsteps.

The other evening, the kehillah had an evening honoring the volunteers, of whom I am one. Since Covid, the class I taught in person for almost 20 years moved to Zoom and continued. The evening was lovely with a woman who demonstrated Laugh Yoga to us and I was still smiling the day after. But most memorable was being with people who are committed to the synagogue after so many years and meeting up with some new people whom I have never met before. So, I would say that this group is on the continuum of being between a micro and macro group in its importance to me.

VIRTUAL COMMUNITIES

As we move on to the macro level of groups who have become my community, are the classes which I teach on zoom. I teach three times a week as a volunteer. Right now, we are studying Genesis in Hebrew and Exodus in English as well as a class in Modern Midrash. Some people attend two of my classes and even though I have never met most of them in person, I feel like these are MY people. I have begun taping the latter class and I always stop recording towards the end, so that we can share personal and political opinions openly. All my groups care about each other and were a great comfort to me when my husband and sister died last year within three weeks of each other.

My other Macro level is the zoom classes that I attend religiously. When my husband was alive, he could be seen in the background putting on his tefillin and praying, while I was listening to my morning 9 AM fix at Beit Avichai. The classes there are on an exceedingly high level and I have learned so much in the last four years. Not only that, but there are familiar faces whom I look forward to seeing every morning, and imagine that they feel the same way about me.  Here and there, old acquaintances have reached out to me and we have renewed our ties—some of which go back 70 years!!! And finally, there are the sporadic classes that I attend on-line, if something or someone interesting catches my eye. This week, I received an amazing letter from Vanessa Ochs, one of the speakers, whose book, Sarah Laughed: Modern Lessons from the Wisdom and Stories of Biblical Women (2004) I reviewed twenty years ago. I share, with her permission, what she wrote me after the class she taught:

Dear Naomi, what a blessing it was today to be able to learn with and from you. Obviously, I have been learning from you, from your writing for years and years. And I am most grateful for all that you have taught me. I am so sorry to learn that your beloved husband has died. Online, I found the beautiful hesped that you wrote for him, one you graciously shared with your readers. Not surprisingly, even this hard and sad moment in the life of your family has become an occasion for your teaching us deep Torah, and for that, I am grateful. This comes belatedly, but the wish is sincere: may your ketubah always remind you of your beautiful relationship you and you husband had and the new Jewish worlds you have both brought into being. Warmly, Vanessa.

I was so sad after reading her letter, for normally I would have shared it and read it aloud to my husband and forwarded it to my sister, who knew of Vanessa. They would have understood how meaningful this letter was to me. But there was no one to share it with. Of course, I am now sharing it with my children—who may or may not be reading my blog–but it’s not the same.  They do not know of her work.

PARSHAT VAYAKHEL

Does anything I wrote have to do with parshat Vayakhel? Absolutely. Not only is that an affirmative answer, but it connects with what is going on in Israeli society today.

Moses gathered the entire Israelite community and said to them: These are the things that Adonai has commanded you to do: On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a sabbath of complete rest, holy to יהוה; whoever does any work on it shall be put to death. You shall kindle no fire throughout your settlements on the sabbath day.

Moses is reassuring the entire group that life will go on as normal after the traumatic aftermath of the Golden Calf when so many lives were snuffed out by the Levites and the plague. It is important the everyone knows this; moreover, if they again violate the Sabbath by working, they will be punished.

Once this is clarified, and the entire nation is given the gift of rest, Moses tells them that those whose hearts are moved to do so, should bring gifts to God. And he even specifies the shopping list of gifts: “gold, silver, copper; yarns, fine linen, skins, wood; oil, spices” etc. All of these are for the building and decoration of the Tabernacle and for the use of the official clothing of the priests who would officiate in the sanctuary. And those whose spirit was moved to be generous brought both material goods and expertise and freely offered them (Exodus 35).

THE GATHERING OF TODAY’S ISRAELI COMMUNITY

Leaders in those days were focused; they were sure that they were following God’s orders and the people trusted them, knowing that they were not in it for themselves. Sadly, our leaders are not “endowed with a divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge” nor are they inspiring.  Because it is so evident that they are in it for their own gains, they have inspired a new kind of united gathering–a gathering of protest. It is ironic that this very week that we are reading the of the gathering of all the people in Ancient Israel to hear the laws pertaining to Shabbat, the day of rest, that our nation is restless. This week we are gathering together in mass protests against the continuation of the War on Gaza, the sacrifice of the hostages, and the firing of the director of the Shin Bet. Many of us regard the newly renewed war as a cynical and dangerous ploy from our leader, that is meant to distract us from the his culpability and responsibility for the current mess, while he is still on trial for corruption. As the headline of an op-ed states, The Resumed war solves Netanyahu’s problems. But what of Israel’s?  I would like to hope that in some time in the future, gatherings will once again be peaceful, and our communities will be united. But for the time being we are neither at peace, nor are we united. We are in a stage of unrest, desperately in need of rest. Where are Moses and Aaron when we need them?

Shabbat shalom.