It's Not About the Fish

Almost two months ago, we sat around the Seder table and read the story of how G-d redeemed the Israelites from slavery in the land of Egypt.  With signs and wonders, spectacle and fanfare, thousands of us marched away from a life of oppression, never to turn back, singing songs of praise.

As the Israelites marched on,  the few possessions they were schlepping along with them probably started to feel pretty heavy. Their feet probably started to really hurt after a few days. They've practically never met this guy who's now leading them. They don't know where they're going, and they couldn't go back to where they came from even if they wanted to. They didn't have real roofs over their heads, and, oh yeah - the desert is hot.  Really, really hot.

To top it all off, the only thing they have to eat - the ONLY thing - is manna. G-d drops it out of the sky, and it tastes INCREDIBLE, but when it's the only thing you have to eat, no matter how you grind, chop, puree, bake, sautee, or roast, it's going to get old.

Now, the Israelites are really grateful and all,  but before they knew it, they were trapped in a sneaky hate spiral of epic proportions. Most of them keep it in check, but some of them complain.

⁴ The rabble with them began to crave other food, and again the Israelites started wailing and said, “If only we had meat to eat! ⁵ We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost—also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. ⁶ But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!” (Numbers 11)


Moses says to G-d: "Seriously? You want me to deal with this? Because it is not my job to put up with temper tantrums."

(This is what the Israelites looked like when they were whining about fish. No joke.)


So G-d says, "Look, I can do anything.  Literally. I'll send you guys enough meat to open up a BBQ Palace in the middle of the desert if that's what you really want."

Then Moses says something incredible: "No matter how much you send, it will never be enough."


Meaning: "This kvetching is not about the fish, or the veggies.  It's not  about the heat or the schlep. It's not even about a bad attitude. It's about a lack of faith that everything will be okay. It's about fear, raw and open, that bleeds into every other aspect of their lives, and finally makes them whine and cry about FISH."


It's easy for us to look at this story, shake our heads, and say, "They should have had faith.  They should have trusted G-d. He already showed them how almighty He was, basically in person.  They should have just eaten that manna, shut up, and kept on trucking."


How many of us have complained, whined, and cried about the fish? It's funny - if you're a person of faith, you know G-d's got your back, and yet there's always doubt, doubt that comes from living life and watching sorrow and tragedy unfold, that lives in our human brains, and whispers, "Maybe it won't be okay. Maybe  He's not even really out there."


 I know I've felt like this, at some times more than others. We're still struggling with complaining about the fish.  Is it something that makes us more human, or something we should work hard to change?  Is it something that comes more naturally to some than others? All I know is that we're still at it, I'm still at it, and I don't even have to schlep all my stuff through the desert.

Anticipation

As human beings, we count down.  Minutes until the cookies are done, days until spring break starts, weeks until the season premier of our favorite show, months until the trees will blossom again. It's human nature to anticipate something good happening, a integral part of who we are.

Jewish culture is no different.  Every year, we count down the days from Passover to Shavuot, the festival where we celebrate receiving the Torah at the foot of Mount Sinai. There are 50 days in all, and the excitement builds as the week of Passover ends, then when we start to count in the teens, then in the single digits.  What is more incredible than the Torah?  What could be more awesome than the moment when God gave it to the Jewish people, amidst the boom of thunder and impossible spectacle? We had been schlepping in the desert.  What wonderful thing would our God give to us?

Then, we heard the Torah.  The Ten Commandments.  Rules, regulations, admonitions.  A few encouragements, Divine promises. Some stories to remind us of who we are.  But mostly, tasks being laid on us.  Things that we had to do, mitzvot we had to fulfill.  Standards for us to live up to.

Just like anything else we might anticipate, the Torah is only what we make of it. Getting that diploma doesn't automatically get you a job - you have to decide how to use it, together with your skills, personality, and determination, to  help you live the life you want.

Every year, at Shavuot, we get to decide - will we use the Torah as an excuse to complain about Judaism's restrictiveness?  Or will we view its commandments as opportunities to draw closer to God, to our communities, and to ourselves?  When we examine its words, will we turn them into daggers with which to wound our fellow humans?  Or will we search for the most loving and understanding of meanings within them?

Chag Sameach!

Home

The stories of our people are shot through with vibrant, painful threads of wishing for home.  Even though that home is Eretz Yisrael, not Columbus, Ohio, over the past year a big part of me felt like I was mourning my exile from Ohio much more than from Israel.

No one knows better than our people - when you leave home, it hurts.  No matter where "home" is.  And when you get to come back, it's so, SO good.

So, you can imagine the feelings that surged through me as my car rumbled over the Lane Avenue Bridge last week.  I saw the Shoe, and the Schott.  I saw how eighty percent of the students don't think it's weird to wear Ohio State gear, they're so proud to be students here.  I saw the huge "Champions Lane" sign.  I turned down Pearl Avenue, my car's tires crunching over the gravel and cracked cement, and into the parking lot of a gorgeous brick building.  Hillel.  Home.

Hillel was my Jewish home during college, and then as a brand-new rabbi.  It's where I heard kiddush every Shabbat, celebrated my children's namings, and found shoulders to cry on. It's where I learned so very much about what it means to be a Jew.  I'm so happy and grateful that, for this coming year, I get to work there again.  Even though it never stopped being home, it's very, very good to be back.

Parshat Naso - What's the Point of It All?

"All the men from thirty to fifty years of age who came to do the work of serving and carrying the tent of meeting 48 numbered 8,580."

~ Numbers 4:47-48

"Mishkan" - "The Tent of Meeting."  We've been reading about it for weeks and weeks now, the structure that hosted the Presence of G-d in the Israelites' camps while they journeyed through the wilderness. I guess that in my mind's eye the tent looked like, well, a tent.  Obviously it was made out of precious metals and fabrics and the finest woods, but structurally, I always imagined it to be similar to a really nice camping tent. 

Then we read this little section at the very beginning of this week's portion, Naso, that reminds us that, altogether, it took 8,580 men to schlep and service the mishkan.  Eight thousand five hundred and eighty. That doesn't include the young kids who scampered behind them, picking up stray pegs and scraps of fabric. And that doesn't count the women at home who cooked their meals, washed their clothing, and cared for the babies.  That means that, all told, over half the Israelite community's existence was entirely focused on this one task.  Pack up the mishkan. Move forward. Set up the mishkan. Rest. Repeat.

I got to thinking about that guy who carried the same pole or bolt of fabric week after week, year after year, and the woman or child at home that repaired the fabric on his shirt that it repeatedly wore away. Did he get it?  Did he understand how important his task was?  Perhaps he knew the concept - that this was how G-d would stay with his community, his family. When his feet ached, when his muscles burned, when his wife collapsed from the exhaustion of managing everything else all day, her own contribution, did he even think about that?  Did he care? After all, how could he have known that their work was contributing to one of the hugest spiritual concepts to develop in the last two thousand years?

 Though we don't have the same challenges as the Israelites, of course, I think we face the same thing.  Endless laundry and dishes at the Kopans bayit, children who wake too early and go to sleep too late, leave destruction and mess in their every path, and constantly pick at one another and whine. For those who work out of the house, annoyances with co-workers, pointless paperwork, people driving like idiots on the commute, and then still having to get dinner on the table and fold the laundry.  I remember being a student and feeling so frustrated that I really, truly had to take four general science classes, and pay attention and get decent grades in them. For everyone, it's the same - go through the grind, rest a little, repeat.  Carry the mishkan and still find time to play with your kids, eat dinner, and relax with friends. What's the point?

I see glimpses of it, sometimes.  I just had to leave the computer to un-wedge a plastic triceratops from the inside of a jack-in-the-box toy. When I turned to stalk balk out of the room, completely annoyed, my middle one threw his arms around my neck, gave me a hug and kiss, and yelled, "Thank you!" Sometimes I can see the holiness, catch a glimpse of the larger purpose.  Sometimes I get the rush that I'm doing a good job, that my work matters.  This is my golden pole, this is my two-by-four, this is my bolt of fabric.

Anyone else?  What's your daily grind, and what's the point?

Why I Love Being Jewish Part 1

Last week was a blast thanks to all the fabulous events in honor of Israel's 61st Birthday! OSU Hillel set out to find out why students love being Jewish at Hillel's Yom Ha'atzmaut festival.

Celebrity Lookalike at OSU Hillel

Remember the Rugrats?

At OSU Hillel, we're lucky to have our own version of Tommy Pickles.

His name?

Rami "Pickles" Kopans

and he looks forward to seeing you at Shabbat this week! Services start at 6 p.m., and a FREE and very delish Shabbat dinner follows at 7 p.m. 

See you there!

Passover Survival Guide

So we are all many days deep into Passover 2009 and I have one thing to say: I'm really hungry! I don't know what changed between last year's passover and now but I must eat a lot more carbs because losing all of them from my diet has left me starving. In light of my growling belly, I wanted to put a few words to how I plan to survive the end of this Passover season.

1. Matzah Recipes
I am sure no one is surprised that I am suggesting that you use Matzah in replace of bread but I still want to point out three of my favorite Matzah recipes. First, Matzah Pizza! As you can see, this pizza pie looks very appetizing and it even has a website.

Second, Peanut Butter and Matzah! Basically you take your favorite peanut butter and jelly and smear it between two giant cardboard crackers. Watch out for salmonella though!!

Third, Matzah and hummus! This really is the most normal thing on the entire list. Especially when you consider my daily intake of hummus during the non-passover parts of the year.

2. Vegetables

Not all surprisingly these are good for passover and will be making up 90% of what I eat for the next four days. This is not great cause I get sick of veggies quick. If anyone has suggestions please let me know.

3. Coffee

Although this sounds really bad, drink enough coffee and you won't be as hungry. Disclaimer: I am not suggesting that anyone do this I am just saying I will be doing this!

4. Matzah Ball Soup

A classic Jew dish. If it didn't make my list what kind of Jew would I be? Besides Mommy Bowen sent me home with enough matzah ball soup goodness to get me though the long Passover season. Yummmm!

5. Rice (optional?)

I just found out that some people don't eat rice for Passover. This boggles my mind so I am going to eat rice anyway. Besides, this way I can still get Chipotle and be good with the Big Guy.

Do you have any time-tested Passover Survival Tips? Let us know in the comments below.

Shalom,

Kevin