Dr. Chavi Kahn joins Anne and Shoshanna to reflect on the legacy of her father, Rabbi Moshe Kahn, z”l, beloved Talmud rebbe at Stern College — and the recent brouhaha when Stern (temporarily) cancelled its lower level course offerings in Talmud. Why does it matter whether Stern College offers Talmud to its female students? And why should women be learning Talmud to begin with?
Music: “Misery” by The Whips
Pesach prep can take your time, energy, and attention away from the spiritual aspects of seder. Anne and Shoshanna went looking for “women’s Torah” to enrich our seder experiences, and enlist Rabbanit Sara Wolkenfeld for her insights, experience, and many tips to help our seders be all they can be – without adding much prep time.
https://www.sefaria.org.il/collections/pictures-tell-the-passover-haggadah
https://www.sefaria.org.il/sheets/305570?lang=bi
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I951gyYmyZUwww.youtube.com/watch?v=I951gyYmyZU
https://www.sefaria.org.il/texts
https://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/17/fashion/the-family-stories-that-bind-us-this-life.html
Music: “Misery” by The Whips
Who decides the correct and fitting manner to worship God? Just because others worship in a certain way, which may be seemingly worthwhile, if that approach was not commanded by God, it is out of bounds. Comparing the biblical narrative of the binding of Isaac to the story of the deaths of Aaron’s sons clearly teaches that God’s will and His will alone determines what is appropriate and beloved by God and what is not. The severity and swiftness of the punishment in the case of Nadav and Avihu powerfully demonstrates that even religious acts conducted with apparently worthy intentions can be unacceptable manifestations of fulfilling God’s will if they fall outside of mandated religious practice.
“And the Lord spoke unto Moses, after the death of the two sons of Aaron, when they drew near before the Lord, and died” (Leviticus 16:1).
I love to traverse my year through the prism of the biblical characters, but I find myself a little harder pressed to do so in the book of Leviticus. The middle book of the Torah contains primarily technical material relating to sacrifices and other priestly activities; this is not the wonderfully rich narratives in Genesis where I am spoiled for choice.
Yet priests are people too. And some of them we have been following for a while now… well, primarily Aaron the High Priest. Precisely how long depends on whether we choose to begin his story from his implied presence as a small child in the narrative around Moses’ birth (he’s not explicitly mentioned there – but where else would a 3-year-old be?), or alternatively from when he is named and becomes his illustrious brother’s right hand man, 80 years later.
Aaron is a somewhat enigmatic figure. Hailing from the most important Jewish family who ever lived (sorry Rothschilds), caught between his two spiritually colossal siblings, prophets and leaders Miriam and Moses, yet also destined for greatness himself, Aaron somehow manages, despite the major role he plays, to remain partially in the shadows.
Most years, when Shemot (Exodus) gives way to the book of Vayikra (Leviticus), we suffer from a collective sense of discomfort. Detailed rituals take the place of gripping narrative, and we are left without an anchor. Sacrifices, purity and impurity, concerns with holiness and the like find little traction in our world. The imaginative leap necessary to bridge between 21st century life and the intricate world of Vayikra seems far too ambitious.
Not this year. We have never been more receptive to Vayikra, never more familiar with the deeply embedded structures in Vayikra, never more in need of its wisdom. Vayikra presents rules for all aspects of life, from the most intimate chambers of our homes to the holy of holies. Efforts to safegaurd the sacred center of the Israelite camp — the mishkan or tabernacle — radiates into all mundane aspects of life. The private and the public are governed by the same principles, the same concerns.
