Parashat Vayiggash – Lessons from our ancestors in the aftermath of the shootings in Newtown, CT Delivered on Friday, December 21, 2012

After an event like the unimaginable shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary last week, there are so many questions. The most basic spiritual question, and the most difficult one to answer -  What is God’s role in these kinds of events where the worst thing possible happens to good people?

My offering this week are some perspectives from the Parasha on this question.

The first perspective comes from an encounter Jacob has with God on his way down to Egypt. Jacob has learned good news – amazing news –that his son Joseph is still alive and has risen up to be second in command to Pharaoh in Egypt. And he and his entire family is on its way to live in Egypt in order to survive the famine in the land of Israel.

But Jacob is afraid.

                    

Egypt is not the friendliest place – and he does not want to leave his home. He also may have heard the stories from his grandfather Abraham – that God had come to him in a night vision and warned that his people would be slaves in a foreign land for 400 years. He must have been wondering whether this was this the beginning of an era of great darkness and suffering for his people.

So, on his way down to Egypt, Jacob too has a night vision. God calls to him and says, “Fear not to go down to Egypt, for . . .  I Myself will go down with you to Egypt, and I Myself will also bring you back.”

One perspective - God is with us in these moments of darkness and suffering.

Rev. Kathy Peters in her prayer at the Chester vigil offered this view on inexplicable loss – that although we may never have answers as to why these awful things happen, one thing we can know is that God is with us through it all. Rabbi Harold Kushner in his book “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” explains that God cannot stop bad things from happening. But when we cry out in anger and distress and deep sadness, God is crying with us. God mourns with us and is outraged with us.

As we look back at the events in Newtown last week, we have a number of roles to play. One is to extend our compassion to those who are grieving and to show that we care. An email went out today to the congregation with information on how we are responding at Beth Shalom. We are gathering donations and will send them off as a group to the United Way of Western CT which is funding increased social services in Newtown. You can write your checks to CBSRZ with “Newtown” in the memo line, and we will make one big donation on behalf of all of us.

Also, next Friday night (tonight was too wet) we plan to have 26 luminaries lining the walkway to the synagogue entrance, in memory of the children and adults who were killed. Many communities will be setting out luminaries on Christmas Eve. And we will do it on Shabbat. Please let me or Beth Gottlieb know if you would like to help with this effort. In these ways we show that we are crying alongside our grieving neighbors.

Another perspective we get in this Torah portion asks whether we should be focusing on the past or the future in our response to terrible events.

As you may remember – Joseph comes to be second in command in Egypt and is in charge of rationing out the grain during the seven years of famine. The famine reaches into the land of Canaan, where his family resides. Joseph’s brothers come down to Egypt for grain and don’t recognize Joseph. At first he doesn’t reveal his identity to them, but this week he finally does reveal himself. And as he does so, in a very emotional scene, he forgives his brothers for their past behavior and reassures them that he doesn’t hold a grudge against them for selling him down to Egypt so many years ago.

Joseph says to his brothers,

“Now, do not be distressed or reproach yourselves because you sold me here; it was to save life that God sent me ahead of you. . . . God has sent me ahead of you to ensure your survival on earth, and to save your lives in an extraordinary deliverance. So, it was not you who sent me here, but God. . . .”

·         Here Joseph teaches us that we have a choice after experiencing suffering and tragedy in how we want to live our lives and how we want to understand our purpose. We can choose to find meaning, and to let the experience guide us towards something greater – towards a healing for not only ourselves, but for others.

·         Joseph sees the big picture. He may still feel his hurt – it would be hard not to. But instead of getting stuck in the past and taking revenge on his brothers or using his experience as an excuse to bitterly retreat from the world –he sees himself as an active partner in God’s plan to save as many lives as possible in the future.

Another role that we can play as a community is to respond to shooting is to allow our outrage and our hurt to motivate us to work to reduce gun violence in our country. Our Social Action Committee met last week and discussed strategies for taking action on the issue of gun control on a local and a national level. If you are interested in being involved in our efforts, please let Andy Schatz, the chair of our SAC know.

I imagine that most people who have survived or witnessed traumatic events find themselves responding in different ways at different times, depending on how we are feeling in the moment.

We see this in Jacob. There are times when he is able to see beyond his own suffering and understand that he has a larger role to play in the life of his family and his people. And there are times when he is overcome with bitterness at the hand that life has dealt him.

When Jacob arrives in Egypt, Joseph introduces his father to the Pharaoh.  When Pharaoh asks Jacob, “How many are the years of your life?” Jacob responds, “The years of my sojourn on earth are one hundred and thirty. Few and hard have been the years of my life, nor do they come up to the life spans of my fathers during their sojourns.”

And yet, the rabbis imagine in a midrash that on his way down to Egypt, Jacob does something quite amazing. He cuts down a tree and splits the wood to make the boards that will form the structure of the Mishkan – the Tabernacle. He cuts this wood that his future descendants, the Israelites, will use to build the movable sanctuary in the Sinai desert, after being rescued from 400 years of Egyptian slavery – and he bring these planks down with him to Egypt.

That Jacob cut these boards was testimony to his trust in God, and his dedication to the future. He understood his role in the world, seeing his life as a piece in the puzzle of redemption.

May we all have the strength within us to dedicate ourselves to the future like Jacob and Joseph. May we look through the haze of the tragedy and the pain of this past week and see clearly our role – to cut the boards now that may be built into a future of safety and compassion and peace for everyone’s children. May we help those who are still grieving in Newtown to know that we are with them, and through us, that God is with them. And may God’s tears and God’s outrage work through us to heal this hurting world.

Vayetze: From “against” to “next to,” and then perhaps to “with”

(Delivered on Friday November 23, 2012)

Most of you are probably aware that I have a sister – her name is Dahlia, she is an amazing person, and we love each other dearly.

 I also have another sister of sorts. Her name is Hunaida Sababa. She is a Palestinian Christian from the West Bank, near Bethlehem.  Her family hosted me for a month a long time ago, when there still was a peace process between the Israelis and Palestinians. We became quite close during that time, and I adore her.  Snce that time, we have barely kept in touch. I have probably seen her only 3 times in the 16 years since I lived with her.

But last week Hunaida posted a message on my Facebook page. It was a simple message – “How are you Rachel? My whole family misses you – I miss you!” That was all. And it was enough. Enough to understand that she loves me, that she cares, that her heart was breaking just like mine.

She did not mention the rockets from Gaza into Southern Israel and Tel-Aviv or the Israeli army’s bombing campaign over Gaza. Just – “I miss you. How are you?”

Of course she was thinking about those bombs and those rockets. I know that I am one of the few Jewish people she has a relationship with. I know she wrote out of true compassion towards me.

Our Torah portion this week is full of sibling relationships – and these relationships are full of tension.  I want to bring you three images of siblings– two from this week’s parasha and one from last week’s – which, gathered together, contain a message about how to digest and respond to the almost war that took place over the last many days, and the fragile cease-fire that is now in place.

The first image:

 Jacob is on the road at night, alone.

He has stolen his twin brother Esau’s blessing. Esau wants to kill him, and so Jacob flees.

This is the first time Jacob has ever been alone. He had always been with his brother, entangled with him, since conception. Since their nine months together in their mother Rebecca’s womb, they have struggled with each other.

Now Jacob has separated himself from his brother and from the struggle. A cease-fire is in place. They are not actively fighting each other for the moment.  And they will each flourish on their own, find wives, have children, build up their wealth.

 Separation is a good first step, but it is not enough. They still haven’t figured out how to be near each other. They have certainly not made peace with each other, and they won’t for twenty more years.

 All is quiet, yet tense and incomplete.

This week the heaviness in my heart lifted as the cease-fire between Hamas and Israel was announced. There was a sense of tempered relief. My friends and colleagues in the Southern Israeli cities of Ashkelon and Ashdod could emerge from their safe rooms and bomb shelters. At least for now, my cousins in Tel-Aviv are not living in fear of another siren and another rocket headed their direction. And it seems that my cousin Roy won’t get called up for reserve duty.

But the quiet is tense and fragile. Perhaps trust can be built back up? Perhaps things can change and evolve in the political sphere such that the ground can be prepared for a peace agreement? It is a BIG perhaps. A cease-fire is not enough to give me hope. And I don’t want to have to wait twenty more years, like Jacob and Esau did, for peace to come.

My husband shared with me what he learned during a tour of the state house in the region of Schleswig-Holstein an area of Germany where he lived for a year of high school. This region borders Denmark and at one time had actually BEEN Denmark. The official way of encapsulating the story of what happened between the Germans and the Danes after WWII is this:

“From against each other

to next to each other

to with each other.”

At least Jacob and Esau, Israel and the Palestinians, are holding back from killing each other. But who knows when the next bloodletting will begin. They have not yet moved from “against each other” to “next to each other”. And they are nowhere near “with each other.”

Jacob is on the road at night – alone.

The second image:

The full womb.

Jacob finds his way to his uncle Lavan’s household and marries Lavan’s two daughters, Leah and Rachel. Over the course of 14 years, 12 pregnancies yield 12 children for Jacob, with Leah, Rachel and their two respective maidservants.

After more than a week of watching the civilian death toll rise on both sides of the Gaza-Israel border. Children, men and women killed and injured. A pregnant woman in Gaza, among them. After all of this, it is disorienting to read about all of these pregnant bellies, all of these bouncing babies.

The full womb.

In the words of Amichai Lau-Levie, an Israeli-American Jewish educator and founder of the organization “Storahtelling”:

Eleven times in just one chapter, one womb after another fills with new life. Rachel the beautiful is the last to become pregnant, and her barren bitter rage as her sister pops ‘em out is reminiscent of the bitter barrenness of all great matriarchs before her. . . .

Rachel is jealous of Leah’s fertility and Leah is angry that Rachel is the one more loved [by their shared husband, Jacob]. But they, the mothers of the future nation somehow manage,. . .  to put away that rage for the sake of a united home where children can grow healthy and peace can nourish life. The Womb will Stop the War

Here again, we have rivalry between siblings – this time between Leah and Rachel. But for the sake of their children –for the sake of the nation and the future, Rachel and Leah find a way to move from hostility, to cease-fire, to peace – from “against” to “next to”, to “with”.

Our third image is actually another full womb. But this time it is Rebecca’s painfully swollen belly, as she, in last week’s Torah portion, carries those twin boys, Jacob and Esau. The Torah tells us that the babies struggled in her womb.

In Arabic and Hebrew the word for “womb” is the same –  “rehem”. In Aramaic this word means “love.” In Arabic and in Hebrew this word also mean “compassion.”

Amichai Lau-Levie writes:

Confused with the opposing forces in her swelling womb, [Rebecca] goes to challenge God for answers – how can one person hold such polar opposites as she was doing? The reply she gets echoes today: There are two within you, there will be struggle, and one will prevail. 

Later in the story it’s written that Rebecca loved Jacob and Isaac loved Esau. 

But I don’t buy it, [says Lau-Levie]. I don’t think the Bible is telling us the whole story here. The agenda of the editor is choosing a side, the winner. I’d rather not, [he says].

I think Rebecca, who carried both boys in her belly loved them both, each in her own way. And even if she favored Jacob’s claim to the blessing and the [birthright], Esau too came from within her, and was worthy of her care, compassion, love.. . .

I want to aspire to this version of Rebecca, proud and pregnant, Mother Earth. I aspire to hold within my soul the love for both opposing forces, and within my mind the care for all sides and battling brothers, no matter the rage.

The Womb will Stop the War

In next week’s Torah portion, the estranged brothers Jacob and Esau come together, after twenty years of tense separation. It seems that they reconcile. They fall on each others’ necks and weep and kiss. And Jacob says to his brother that to see his face, “is to see the face of God.”(Genesis 33:10)

They do not stay together though.  At the end of next week’s parasha, the brothers go their separate ways again. But this time they leave without that simmering tension. They leave more complete – they leave in peace.

They agree not to be against each other anymore – they can at least live next to each other in peace if not necessarily with each other in intimacy.

I have no fantasies about Israelis and Palestinians running to each other, weeping, falling on each others’ necks and kissing. I have no delusions of these two brothers weaving their lives together in some intimate idealistic way. At least, I haven’t had these dreams for the past twenty years.

What my Palestinian sister Hunaida and I still have is rachmanut -  compassion for each other, yes, perhaps even love. But we come from two different peoples with different dreams, different interests and different visions. I do not want to share a state with her.  I would rather show my passport on my way from the state of Israel to the state of Palestine to joyfully and safely visit her, so that my children might finally meet hers.

My hope right now for us is this: that we can continue to hold both our Israeli and our Palestinian brothers and sisters in the same womb of compassion. And that out of that compassion we might do all that we can to help both sides move forward from “against each other” to “next to each other” – from a fragile cease-fire to a lasting peace.

Shabbat before Thanksgiving 2012: Beware lest you think that pumpkin pie is the work of your hands!

A warm meal. A hot shower. Electric lights.

Just a couple of weeks ago, after the Hurricane, so many of us were joyfully grateful for these things. We received them as gifts. Many of us probably said, “Thank God!” when the electricity was restored.

When material and spiritual comforts are scarce, the quality of gratitude is so often right there, on the surface. We can’t help but feel thankful. We are aware that the abundance we live with most of the time can so easily be taken from us.

We read in the Torah, in the book of Deuteronomy:

For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land with streams and springs and fountains issuing from plain and hill; a land of wheat and barley, of vines, figs and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey; a land where you may eat food without stint, where you will lack nothing; a land whose rocks are iron and from whose hills you can mine copper. When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the Lord your God for the good land which He has given you.

Take care lest you forget the Lord your God . . . . When you have eaten your fill, and have built fine houses to live in, and your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold have increased, and everything you own has prospered, beware lest your heart grow haughty and you forget the Lord your God – who freed you from the land of Egypt, the house of bondage; who led you through the great and terrible wilderness with its seraph serpents and scorpions, a parched land with no water in it, who brought forth water for you from the flinty rock; who fed you in the wilderness with manna, which your fathers had never known. . .  – and you say to yourselves, “My own power and the might of my own hand have won this wealth for me.” Remember that it is the Lord your God who gives you the power to get wealth, in fulfillment of the covenant that he made on oath with your fathers, as is still the case.

Here, the Israelites are about to cross over from the desert, a land of scarcity where they had to rely on God to take care of them every moment – to the Promised Land, a place of abundance. Their material needs will be met easily, but in the land, they  will encounter a new spiritual challenge – to continue to be aware of God and the gifts that God is giving them at every moment.

More often than not, this is our challenge as well.

My teacher, Rabbi Jonathan Slater writes of this passage that:

This is not a prophecy so much as an observation of human behavior: awareness is sharp in the face of danger, yet dull in the midst of plenty. Why is it that we notice insufficiency, pain, obstruction, resistance, conflict and respond with clarity and energy, offering thanks when we experience relief? And yet, when all goes swimmingly we are less attentive to our lives, less likely to be grateful? And why, in the midst of wellbeing, are we resentful when we experience any diminution, any loss, any impediment to our continued happiness?

It may be partly biological: we are wired for self-preservation, and respond instinctively, automatically to danger. When we recover from times of stress and reaction, the body eases, the field of vision expands and we feel a sense of wellbeing and can say “thank God”. When we are not threatened by danger, when our lives are not (apparently) on the line, we apply ourselves to greater security, more food and shelter, and then even fame and fortune. Out of the habit of struggling for life, we are also out of the habit of saying “thank God”.

The Deuteronomy text warns us that when things are going well, and we have all that we need and more, our hearts grow haughty. Our ego grows so large that we forget that what we have is not due to the work of our own hands alone. We forget our times of struggle and scarcity and vulnerability, and we lose sight that all that we have, all that we have accomplished, is a gift from God.

Next week we will be sitting at Thanksgiving tables, laden with food, surrounded by family and friends. And since the holiday is called Thanksgiving, we will probably remember to give thanks to that which is greater than ourselves. I hope we will remember that that pumpkin pie is not the work of my hands alone.

But in days of abundance, especially on days that are not specially entitled, “Thanksgiving,” the Torah warns us: “Beware!” says the Torah, “lest your heart grow haughty and you forget the Lord your God!” The note of warning and fear of God in this passage may not sit so well with us - a sense that if we forget to recognize that all that we have is a divine gift, then something terrible will happen.

The Chasidic tradition gives us a more hopeful interpretation, I think. According to the Birkat Avraham, the fear of God that we are to nurture, is more like awakened attention. Attention to the impermanence of life, its transience and unpredictability. We are to sustain that awareness even when it is less perceptible – when life is good, and all seems secure. When we hold fast to that awareness, we will be prepared for the inevitable stumbles, accidents and losses that occur in a life. They will not appear as insults, inconsistent with our rightful due, but part of the whole of life, as much a part of God as the goodness we knew before. Life and sustenance are “given” to us by God as much as they are “taken away” by God. That is life; it is all grace, a gift given freely, impermanent and precious.

One way that we can nurture this awareness of our own vulnerability is to make it a practice to reach out to others who are suffering from scarcity, to pay attention to their stories, and to respond with our compassion and help.

 Once our electricity was restored after the storm I found myself naturally paying more attention to what was happening in Long Island, New Jersey and Staten Island. I was surprised at how intensely moved I was by the stories of folks who had lost everything, who were still without heat and water and electricity. My experience of scarcity was so recent and palpable that I felt a powerful impulse to reach out and help.  And I suppose I also felt moved out of gratitude for not having had to suffer as direct a hit from the Hurricane that so many others suffered.

Unfortunately, for me and for most of us I imagine, that impulse towards empathy and action fades, the farther we are away from the event in time and space. Perhaps, this is why we have community institutions like synagogues and Food pantries, to remind us. Please continue to give, especially money – and the Shoreline Pantry needs our donations more than ever. http://cbsrzrabbi.blogspot.com/2012/11/hurricane-sandy-relief-lets-be.htm

And, in light of the violence occurring in Israel and Gaza, give to Federation and/or NIF. 

https://secure-fedweb.jewishfederations.org/page/contribute/help-israel-now

http://www.nif.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=1449%3Ain-a-time-of-war&catid=15%3Ageneral

Most of us are familiar with the words of the 23^rd Psalm which are attributed to King David. It opens with the words, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”  The Birkat Avraham has an interesting take on this Psalm – he teaches that King David would constantly contemplate: with all of the wealth of the kingdom it was still possible for him to die of starvation for want of everything. It was only because “The Lord is my shepherd” that therefore “I shall not want”. Without God’s help, he could not be sure that he, the King himself, would have what to eat. This fear of losing everything is in fact a quality of faith – a knowing that all depends on God that leads to reverence of God.

Psalm 23 continues “You have set a table before us in full view of our enemies, You have anointed my head with oil, My cup overflows.”

Every day, every moment, we can choose, as King David did, to notice that all that we have is in fact manna from heaven. That there is a force of love and generosity in the universe that makes my life possible. That every table at which I eat is in fact, a Thanksgiving table.

Hurricane Sandy Relief - Let’s be the neighbors we’d have needed, if we hadn’t been so lucky.

Supply Drive through Valley Shore Clergy Association

Houses of worship in our Valley-Shore region are collecting the following items to be turned over to the Red Cross.

Collection starts this Monday, November 12^th, and runs through Monday November 19^th.  You can drop off your goods at Essex Congregational Church or at St. John’s Episcopal Church of Essex.

Cleaning and Sanitary Supplies	Clothing	Toiletries	Baby/Infant Supplies	Other
Sanitizers	Jackets/coats	Shampoo	Diapers	Blankets
Sponges (new)	Sweaters/Sweatshirts	Soap	Wipes	Towels (in good shape)
Mops	Pants	Toothpaste	Formula	Batteries (all sizes)
Trash bags	Underwear (new)	Toothbrushes		Water
Rubber gloves	Hats/gloves
	Socks

Restock the Food Pantry and the Diaper Bank of Jewish Family Service of New Haven

Due to the increased need following Hurricane Sandy, the shelves of the JFS Food Pantry in New Haven are empty, and there is an acute need for baby diapers.

You can help in one of two ways:

·      If you it is convenient for you to bring food and diaper donations to the JCC in Woodbridge (360 Amity Road  Woodbridge, CT 06525 (203) 387-2522) At the JCC there is a collection area to drop off non- perishable items such as; soups, canned goods, tuna, vegetables, instant oatmeal, juices--juice boxes, cans, cold cereal, rice, pasta, and diapers. All items will be dispersed to JFS Food Pantry and The Diaper Bank.

OR

·      Make a financial contribution by writing a check to

Jewish Family Services (put Food Pantry in the memo line)

1440 Whalley Avenue,  New Haven, CT 06515

Donate to the Union for Reform Judaism (URJ) Hurricane Relief Fund at www.urj.org/Sandy

The URJ’s Hurricane Relief Fund is providing: 

• Direct funding to congregants who are suffering short or long-term loss of food, shelter or clothing
• Direct funding to general and Jewish relief agencies in coordination with the Jewish Federations, NECHAMA – the Jewish Response to Disaster and others
• Direct funding to Reform congregations damaged by the storm to help them resume operations as quickly as possible

Since the fund was established Tuesday, October 30, the URJ has collected nearly $200,000 for Hurricane Relief from more than 1,600 donors. 

Donors may choose to give to a general relief fund or to a fund allocated specifically to West End Temple in Neponsit, Queens. (The URJ will be collecting funds on behalf of West End Temple until they have electricity and their online system is functional.) Funds may also be designated for Scholarships for Youth Impacted by Hurricane Sandy, which will remove some of the financial barriers that might keep displaced teens from attending NFTY or other Reform Movement events with their peers when they need them most.

The first distribution of general relief funds of $7,500 was sent yesterday to North Shore Synagogue in Syosset, Long Island, to provide three meals a day to displaced families.

If you wish to mail in your donation, please indicate the fund on your check and send to: 

Hurricane Relief Fund
Union for Reform Judaism
633 Third Ave.
New York, NY 10017

Volunteer in the NY or NJ Region through URJ partner NECHAMA – the Jewish Response to Disaster.

Sign up at http://rac.org/advocacy/specialresources/sandy/

The URJ is partnering with NECHAMA – the Jewish Response to Disaster to galvanize volunteers for on-the-ground clean-up and rebuilding efforts in affected areas of Northern New Jersey. The URJ is also working with JVOAD - Jewish Voluntary Organizations Active in Disasters to maximize resources and ensure that efforts are not being duplicated. 

For more information, go to www.urj.org/Sandy

Parashat Chayei Sarah - A Shabbat Dinner Table discussion

This week many in our congregation will be gathering at each other's homes for Shabbat dinner. Part of this "Got Shabbat" dinner experience is a discussion of the Torah portion around the table. I encourage anyone, whether you are participating in our formal program or are simply gathering with your own family for Shabbat dinner tonight, to print out the following summary of the Torah portion, commentary and discussion questions. Take some time, perhaps between dinner and dessert, to have an informal discussion of these questions or your own!

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Goldenberg

Parashat Chayei Sarah: Genesis 23:1-25:18

SUMMARY:
In this week's Torah portion, Chayei Sarah, we have two deaths, with a wedding in the middle. Sarah, Abraham's wife, dies and Abraham, now alone, seeks to insure that the next generation will continue the Jewish traditions which he and Sarah have established. To that end Abraham sends his servant Eliezer to find a wife for his son Isaac from among his kin. Eliezer travels to the land of Abraham's birth and returns with Rebecca, kin to Abraham and considered an appropriate wife. At the close of this portion, Abraham dies. We read: And Abraham breathed his last, dying at a good ripe age, old and contented; and he was gathered to his kin. His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah..." (Genesis 25:8-9)

FOCUS:
This is the first time that we see the half-brothers Isaac and Ishmael working together. Theirs has not been an easy relationship. Ishmael, the older son, was born to Abraham and Sarah’s servant Hagar. Sarah had asked Abraham to have a child through Hagar, as Sarah was initially unable to get pregnant. In last week’s Torah portion, Isaac is miraculously born to Abaraham and Sarah in their old age. Sarah then banishes Ishmael and his mother Hagar from their home, worried that the covenantal promises between God and Abraham would not get passed down to her son Isaac.

At the end of this week’s Torah portion we see Isaac and Ishmael coming together to bury their father. Isaac then becomes the progenitor of the Jewish people and Ishmael has that same status among the Muslim community.

COMMENTARY:
In the following midrash (a story told by the rabbis as a comment on a story from Torah) we read about a very different kind of brotherly relationship.

The Story of Two Brothers
Once long ago there were two brothers who shared a large field. The brothers grew wheat together in this field and shared equally in the harvest. Each brother had his own house. The older brother was married and had children. The younger brother lived alone.

One night during the harvest the older brother could not sleep. He was worrying about his younger brother. The older brother thought to himself, My younger brother is all alone and I have a wife and children. When I am old my children will take care of me. I must give some of my wheat to my brother so he may save for his old age.

On that same night, the younger brother tossed and turned in his bed worrying about his older brother. He thought to himself, My older brother has a family to feed and I only need to feed myself. I must give some of my wheat to my brother.

Quietly, and in secret, each brother loaded his arms with wheat and carried it to his brother's storage area. The brothers did this for three nights. On the following mornings when the brothers would check their piles of wheat they remained the same size. Each wondered, How could this be? I know I am putting more wheat in my brother's pile.

On the fourth night when the moon was full each brother again rose up. Each filled his arms with wheat and made his way to his brother's storage area. Then, suddenly by the light of the moon the two brothers met in the middle of the field. Each realized what the other had been doing. They put down their armfuls of wheat and hugged each other.

Jewish tradition tells us that it was on this spot where the two brothers met that the Bet Ha-mikdash, The Temple in Jerusalem, was built.

QUESTIONS TO EXPLORE

The Torah text doesn’t tell us what Isaac and Ishmael’s relationship was like after Ishmael was banished and before they came together to bury their father.

Imagine what you think their relationship was like:

Had they stayed in touch, or was this the first time they had seen each other since childhood?

What do you think caused Isaac and Ishmael to come together to bury their father?

How do you think the brothers felt when they saw each other? Do you think they were surprised to see each other?

Can you imagine what the scene was like at the burial? Did they talk to each other? Embrace?

Why do you think the Torah tells this story of two brothers who were separated from each other and then came together to bury their father? What lesson might it be teaching us?

Do you see any parallels between this story and your own relationships with siblings or other family members?

What lesson do you think the “Story of the Two Brothers” teaches us? How is this story similar to or different from the story of Isaac and Ishmael?