Kitty Blog #17, by Gandalf the Grey

I am King of the Bed.  Tonight I leapt lightly upon the bed to where Nora was sleeping and took back the space without a fight.  Nora retreated.  I am the King!  Now if I could only consolidate my space from the backyard to the bed I would be the #1 cat!  I only need a little bit of time and a plan.

Little Pink Sock

I like comics.  A favorite comic is Mutts.  It is the life of Mooch, a cat, and Earl, a dog.  As a cat owner, Mooch often reminds me of the cats in my life.  One repeating story involves a "little pink sock."  Mooch loves his sock, often sacrificing other activities to be with his sock.

Nora has a little pink sock.  It has not always been pink.  First she had a little red mitten.  It was actually a sleeve from a wintertime Starbucks gift card.  She loved this mitten, sleeping with it, playing with it, but it was never as significant as Mooch's pink sock.  One day the mitten vanished.  We never figured out where it went.  In the absence of the little red mitten Nora began to steal socks.  Eventually I found a small sock that I was able to substitute for our actual socks.  It was baby sized, yellow with pink stripes.  I filled it with catnip.  It became Nora's life.  She carried it everywhere.  She slept with it.  She played with it.  She loved this sock.

Unfortunately, we can't find the sock.  Like the little red mitten it has vanished.  Perhaps Nora has a stash somewhere with the mitten, the sock, and all our missing single socks.  In the meantime, Nora has gone back to stealing our socks.  I find balled up socks, freshly folded from the laundry, in the hall, in the dining room, in the basement, on the steps, all over the house.  I never know where my socks will end up.

So, if you're ever in my house and you see socks in a strange place, don't blame me.  It's Nora's fault.

Parashat Naso- "And I Will Bless Them"

Yevare’ch’cha A-donai v’yish’m’recha. Ya’eir A-donai panav eilecha vikhunecha. Yisa A-donai eilecha v’yaseim lecha shalom.

V’samu et shmi al b’nei Yisrael va’ani avarcheim.

May the Lord bless and keep you. May the Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you. May the Lord raise His countenance to you and grant you peace.

And they will place My name upon the children of Israel, and I will bless them. (B’midbar 6:24-27)

Birkat Kohanim, the Priestly Blessing, used in the Amidah, as the parents’ blessing, and sometimes under the huppah, comes from this week’s parasha. As Rabbi Hertz points out in his commentary, “The text consists of three short verses, of three, five, and seven words respectively.” The poetic verse “mounts by gradual stages from the petition for material blessing and protection to that for Divine favour as a spiritual blessing, and in beautiful climax culminates in the petition for God’s most consummate gift, shalom, peace.” But the text goes beyond words.  It is said that the Torah is black fire written on white fire. Not only are the words important- the choice of words, their meaning, and even their shape- but so too the white space, the white fire around the words. The spaces in Torah text lead us to further knowledge beyond the written text. Openings and closings, spaces between books, columns and lattice, all these are present in the Torah. In the calligraphy of Birkat Kohanim the words are written in such a way that the white space creates a second handprint surrounding the hand-shaped verse. God’s unseen hand embraces and directs the blessing.

The blessing is delivered by the kohanim, the priests in Judaism. However, we have a tradition that each among us has the potential to hear God. We have no hierarchy that requires a priest to act as our conduit to speak to, or hear from, God. The Talmud teaches that the Israelites were upset, saying, “We want God’s blessing.” Therefore, in case we missed the hidden message of God’s hand holding the hand of the Kohein in His, the text tells us that God replies, “V’samu et shmi al b’nei Yisrael va’ani avarcheim.” “And they will place My name upon the children of Israel, and I will bless them.” God tells us that the blessing does not come from the priests, but from God.  But there is also a lesson in this reminder.  We must be sure to look beyond the obvious to see the hidden beauty and message beyond that which can be observed.

B'midbar- Into the Wilderness

With this parasha, we begin the book of B’midbar. B’midbar- In the Wilderness- is also known as the book of Numbers. It is in this wilderness where transformation of the people happens. The population ebbs and grows creating a new, stronger people from out of B’nei Yisrael. The older generation, ultimately fated to die in the desert, passes on its teachings, both the successes and the mistakes, to the younger, lessons of faith and lessons of action. 

This week also marks the 31^st anniversary of my becoming bat mitzvah. Thirty-one years ago I was not as interested in the lesson of the parasha or the haftarah as I was in leading the parts of the service I could and being able to sit on the bima next to our hazan. What I didn’t know was the connection my life would have to the parasha. Not only were the Israelites entering into a wilderness of unknowns, but, as a new teen and Jewish adult, so was I.

B’midbar is a book of firsts. The Torah is continuing to evolve. From Sinai on God continues to give instruction. It is not a stagnant text. Explanation and illumination continue. The connection to the land of Israel as our ancestral home grows within this Israelite generation, individuals who had known no other land, only the wilderness. We may be in the midbar, but we are looking towards home. As if connected to that vision, my parents planned our first trip to Israel. It would be the first of many for each of us, although the only trip we took as a family. Thirty-one years later, I am in a similar place. It is Rav Sean’s and my turn to plan our family’s first trip to Israel. Now until next spring will be a year of celebration as both Gavriel and Keren become b’nei mitzvah just under a year apart. This will be followed by a trip to Israel. We will be celebrating their newfound Jewish adulthood and responsibility, not looking towards our homeland, but on the Tayelet overlooking Yerushalayim.

Israel is itself on the edge of a wilderness. With a change in party power in the government, with excitement about a unified yet pluralist Jewish observance, we do not know what path Israel will follow. But, taking with us the lessons of the past, we look toward our homeland with excitement for the future.

Thirty-one years ago I celebrated my bat mitzvah, sans tallit, sans aliyah. In Israel I watched, from behind the mechitza, as the boys on our trip celebrated at the Kotel. I celebrated atop Masada. Now, coming out of the wilderness, we look toward our children celebrating together, davenning at Robinson’s Arch, aka the Masorti Kotel, and each, in his and her tallit and t’fillin, having an aliyah laTorah in Israel.  We hope you will join us.

It's My Turn #18, by Nora T. Cat

Yesterday Jen & Sean spent most of the day working in the backyard.  This was my chance to lull them into a false sense of security.  Once there they will let me out with impunity.

First I look adorable as I gaze longingly out the back door.  Then, I meow plaintively. When allowed out I quickly run and hide under the deck.  I only emerge after 15-20 minutes.  Then I make a careful circle around the yard, never venturing too close to the fence.  I meow sweetly at Jen & Sean whenever they are near or look at me.  Finally, I lie down in the brightest sunbeam in the centre of the yard, stretching out as if I have no other care in the world.

I know they fell for it.  Gandalf tried to throw me off my game a few times, but I just hissed at him, and told him to stay out of my business.  Next week I'll stretch my scheme into walking the perimeter.