Parshat Vayechi reminds us that it’s not just our faith that makes up our Judaism, but also where that faith comes from and how it’s passed down. I hope you'll take this reminder to reconnect with your own faith and possibly get closer to the answer of why you believe. And then, of course, pass it on.
Nine days ago, we laid Itai Dewar to rest. In addition to being a skillful educator in our Aliyah and adult education programs, Itai was the synagogue shamash, which is to say he was our kehillah’s caretaker, opening and closing the building. His sudden loss has been a blow to many people in the community, myself included. During his funeral, those in attendance witnessed a remarkable sunset.
The name of this week's parshah, Vayigash, means “and he met.” And while Joseph meets his brothers again, he also meets himself at a crossroads, faced with deciding between a path of power and control over his brothers and the rest of the country, and a path to meet his brothers halfway.
Those of us who grew up when the Muppets were the rage probably remember a segment called “Pigs in Space.” Miss Piggy is right up there as one of my favorite astronauts of all time. Sorry Neil Armstrong. I hadn’t thought of her in ages, but she came to mind this week when a student reached out to me. This congregant has a theology paper assignment for school, examining from a Jewish perspective if it is ethical to fund space projects/travel/exploration.
When our needs aren’t met, we can’t be at our best, and often our emotional needs like family connections are just as important as physical needs like hunger. Parshat Miketz is a yearly reminder that we’re all searching for something to sustain us, and when we’re able to open our eyes and see the root of the desire, we’re much more likely to put aside anger and deception in favor of love and acceptance.
There’s a lot of research into what it means to be the oldest child (and, for that matter, what it means to be the youngest or in the middle). However, if you’re an oldest child, you don’t need the research to know that the struggles of the oldest child are very real, and we see them clearly in our Torah portion this week, Parshat Vayeshev.
In my work as a rabbi I often have the honor of assisting families as they create grave markers for loved ones. These stones, though brief in their wording, often tell a story. This is an act that is unique to each family and, understandably, holds a lot of emotion, since the creation of a marker stone is a finality in the process of loss and grief.
