Welcome to President’s Day Weekend. How many of you built a Lincoln Log house for your dining room tables this week? We honor our presidents—Lincoln, the son of Illinois, Washington, others.

This celebration fits nicely with this week’s Torah portion. The parsha is a study in leadership. We have several examples—some good, some bad. So before we begin, what is a leader? What is a good leader?

People had good answers to those questions—a leader is a guide, a teacher, someone with vision, sometimes someone who is charismatic although you can be a charismatic leader who is a good leader but is immoral like Hitler, someone who carries out the will of the people or who has the courage to stand up to the people and say no.

As I explained, that seems to be exactly the point of this week’s parsha. We have Moses, G-d. Aaron and Bezalel.

Bezalel is the architect of the mishkan. He takes the design instructions that G-d gave to Moses and the gifts that the people offered, used his skill and his wisdom and built the mishkan. That’s where our parsha begins. Bezazel creating holy space, taking the vision and carrying it out, in all of its nitpicky details. He is a good leader and deserves to have his name remembered.

But then the story goes awry. Moses is still up on the mountain. The mountain was quaking and shaking, smoking and appeared on fire. The people were scared. He hasn’t been heard from in 40 days. Remember, no cell phone to call Tzipporah and say, “Honey, I’m fine, but G-d hasn’t finished talking with me. I’ll be a little late, dear. Don’t worry.” Moses must have died. He was their leader, their caretaker, their conduit to the Divine. He took them out of Egypt, made the Red Sea part, gave them manna and water in the wilderness. Without him, how could they survive? What kind of G-d would do this? What kind of leader would bring them out into the wilderness to die? They wanted to go back to Egypt, where they were safe—even if they were slaves. They wanted to build a golden calf, like the idols they knew in Egypt.

“When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, they gathered round Aaron and said, ‘Come, make us a god who will go before us. As for this man Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don’t know what has happened to him.’ Aaron answered them, ‘Take off the gold earrings that your wives, your sons and your daughters are wearing, and bring them to me.’ So all the people took off their earrings and brought them to Aaron. He took what they handed him and he fashioned it with a tool and made it into a molten calf. Then they said, ‘This is your god, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.’ (Ex. 32: 1-4)

So what kind of leader is Aaron? At this juncture he finds a way to do what the people want. But then, like Adam and Eve, he makes excuses. He denies responsibility. He blames the people. He didn’t really make the calf. He just threw the gold into the fire and out came the idol, fully formed.

Rabbi Lord Sacks in his weekly message teaches that “Leaders can fail for two kinds of reason. The first is external. The time may not be right. The conditions may be unfavourable. There may be no one on the other side to talk to…Sometimes despite your best efforts, you fail. Such is life.

The second kind of failure is internal. A leader can simply lack the courage to lead. Sometimes leaders have to oppose the crowd. They have to say No when everyone else is crying Yes. That can be terrifying. Crowds have a will and momentum of their own. To say No may be to put your career, even your life, at risk. That is when courage is needed, and not showing it can constitute a moral failure of the worst kind.”

What about G-d as leader. He becomes angry. Very, very angry. He wants to deny that the Israelites are His people. Watch the pronouns as Moses pleads with G-d to spare them.  Suddenly they are Moses’s people or just the people. He wants to destroy them all.

What about Moses as leader? He pleads for his people. He is audacious enough to remind G-d that they are G-d’s people. His argument is successful and the Israelites are spared. This is Moses’s finest hour some have said. It becomes the basis of how to plead with G-d for forgiveness and sets up much of the liturgy for Selichot and Yom Kippur. A good strong leader.

A midrash from Berachot 32a teaches us about leadership. “And the Lord spoke to Moses, ‘Go down at once!'” (Exodus 32:7): What is the meaning of “Go down at once”? Said R. Eleazar, “Said the Holy One, blessed be he, to Moses, ‘Moses, go down from your position of greatness. Have I made you great for any reason other than for Israel? Now “Immediately Moses grew weak and did not have the power to speak.” When he said to him, ‘Leave me alone that I may destroy them’ (Deuteronomy 9:14), Moses thought, ‘This matter now depends on me.’ “Immediately he stood and become strong in prayer and sought mercy.” The matter may be compared to the case of a king who grew angry with his son and was giving him hard blows. The king’s friend was sitting before him, afraid to say anything to him. The king said, ‘Were my friend not here, sitting before me, I should have killed him.’ “The other realized, ‘This matter depends on me.’ Immediately he stood up and saved [the son].”

Rabbi Michael Pitkowsky says that this is “how a leader should react when he or she is faced with a crisis. According to this midrash, leaders should not remain aloof and above the people, rather, they must “go down” from their greatness. While it may be easier for a leader who is facing a crisis to try and stay above the fray, Moses’s success was based upon his ability to lower himself in order to help lift up others. “

A good leader then is one who humbles himself, (or herself!) is able to be on the people’s level and see what they want. It is like we learn in the Talmud, “Puk Hazei Mai Amma Davar – go see what the people are doing” (Berachot 45a, Eiruvin 14b).

But more to the point it is what the community needs. What happens when what a community needs is in conflict with what they want?  When Moses returns down the mountain, he is angered. Like G-d he is angered. Very, very angry. He smashes the 10 Commandments. He grinds the calf to dust and makes the Israelites drink it. He kills 3000. This leadership makes us uncomfortable. It should.

How does this relate to us? Each of us has the potential to be a leader. To be a Bezalel, building something out of the free will gifts the people offer. To be an Aaron and listen to the will of the people. To be a Moses, and bring a vision to the people. Each of us has the opportunity to be angry or to be a peacemaker.

I have said often that we are on the cusp of a paradigm shift in Judaism. Our models of how we organize Judaism are changing. We can be angry leaders saying things like the young people don’t understand, they are not really being Jewish, they don’t care, they don’t give, they don’t volunteer. OR we can figure out how they want to engage, what they want to do, how they want to give and build our community, our structures and infrastructures. Recently I read an article written by Daniel Gordis about the problems in the Conservative Movement. His contention is that the problem in the Conservative Movement began when the rabbis were able to justify driving on Shabbat. The article is worth the read (and it is long). http://jewishreviewofbooks.com/articles/673/cognitive-dissonance/?utm_source=%22Cognitive+Dissonance%22+and+Its+Uses+%28Jewish+Review+of+Books%29&utm_campaign=Cognitive+Dissonance+%28JRB%29&utm_medium=email

His initial point, “Conservative Judaism was never sufficiently aspirational. Instead of insisting that halakha might give congregants aspirational ideals, it recalibrated Jewish practice for maximum comfort. It failed to recognize that the space between the “is” and the “ought” is where we grow deeper,”is right on target. What the Israelites wanted when they demanded a golden calf was reassurance, comfort and a connection with the Divine who seemed hidden and distant. That’s what we all want. That was the point of the whole sacrificial system, according to Rabbi Nehemia Polen, when I was honored to study Leviticus with him. When the Temple was built, it was to reassure the people, to combine the elements at Mount Sinai, smoke and fire, mountain, the Presence of the Divine. When the Temple was destroyed, the rabbis had to revamp. Judaism became a religion of halacha and study.

However, in the end, I think he misses the point. A return to a strict halacha is not the answer. The people don’t want it and wont’ do it. As Rabbi David Mark says in his comments to the long article, “Every Jew writes her own Shulchan Aruch, her own “Code of Jewish Law.” It doesn’t have to make sense. Faith, Religion, folkways– they aren’t supposed to make sense. When Jews come together in a congregation, they decide on which customs and laws make them feel holier as a group.”

Our job, then as Jewish leaders is to educate, educate, educate, (on this point I agree with Rabbi Gordis) so that people can write their own Torah, write their own Shulchan Arukh. So that we can feel connected with the community, the Jewish community. So that we can feel connected to the long chain of Jewish tradition. But most importantly so we can reconnect with the Divine.

Rabbi Lord Sacks said, “It is easy to be critical of people who fail the leadership test when it involves opposing the crowd, defying the consensus, blocking the path the majority are intent on taking. The truth is that it is hard to oppose the mob. They can ignore you, remove you, even assassinate you. When a crowd gets out of control there is no elegant solution.”

Ultimately, tradition dealt kindly with Aaron. He received the honor of becoming the High Priest. He is portrayed as a man of peace. As we learned, there is more than one kind of leadership. Priesthood requires following the rules and not being swayed by the people. Moses and Aaron were not leaders in the same mold. Our synagogue president and I are not leaders in the same mold. And that’s OK. Neither Moses or Aaron are failures. Neither Joe or I are failures either.  We have different roles. The synagogue president has to deal with the finances and maintaining the building. I have to deal with people’s ethics and their pysches and their spirits. I have to find ways to be aspirational to everyone who walks through the doors of this building. Everyone. Both Joe and I have an obligation to uphold the vision of the community, which is based in Jewish tradition. Both Joe and I have an obligation to try to lead from a position of compassion and to be slow to anger. However, when we get angry, and it happens occasionally, we need ways of working it out. That is why our weekly meeting, face to face, like Moses and G-d did, is so critical to our leadership.

Rabbi Zuziya had it right. When he gets to heaven, he will not be asked, “Why were you not Moses?” The question will be “Why weren’t you Zuziya.” None of us are called upon to be Bezalel, Moses or Aaron. We are called on to be ourselves, our best selves. Sometimes we need leaders who can stand up to the crowd. Sometimes we need peacemakers. Sometimes we need builders. Sometimes we need quiet dreamers. No one person can do everything.

So it is a question of both/and. We need leaders who will humble themselves and go down among the people. They are the ones that will have the courage to stand up and say, “That is not right, we cannot do that.” And we need leaders who will build consensus and follow the will of the people. They can become the peacemakers. In this room we have many different kinds of leaders. Each of you in this room (or reading this on the blog) are a leader. The challenge of this week’s parsha is to figure out what kind of leader are you?

63% of Lake Michigan is frozen. Temperature this morning was -10 when I got up. Chicagoland has had 60+ inches of snow when the average is 36.7 at O’hare and only 19 inches in Elgin! This year even the pets have cabin fever. They want to go outside and run. Too cold!

So what do we do? We gripe about it, and while that gets old quickly we gripe some more. We plan trips away from Chicagoland to some warmer climate. That is expensive. We cook more soups and stews and comfort foods. That can cause weight gain. We learn winter sports–skiing, hockey, skating. And we watch the Olympics.

Every year I have children read the Wise Men of Chelm story “Snow Falls in Chelm”,about the diamonds that fall from the sky. Last year, my first year in Elgin, it was actually on the Illinois fifth grade standardized test. The kids thought I knew the test in advance. Then I have the kids write blessings for snow. There is not actually a blessing for snow in Judaism, although we have the word–shelig in Hebrew. The kids get it. They usually include things like thanking G-d for the beauty of the individualized snowflakes or for hot chocolate and sledding and snow days. They see the beauty and the wonder. (But then they don’t have to drive in it!)

I am not alone in this, both Rabbi Harold Kushner and Rabbi Larry Kushner describe similar phenomena in their Hebrew School classes.  During that first snowfall of the year, “As you might expect, there was suddenly great excitement in the room. “Look! It’s snowing outside! Winter is here!” And they all lept out of their places and ran over to the window, completely oblivious to the fact that the rabbi was trying to tell them a story….He realized that for the children, there was no reason to recite the blessing. Their spontaneous reaction, their excitement, was an even stronger affirmation of the wondrousness of nature than any adult’s blessing could ever be….There’s no way that adults can appreciate the wonders of snow as much as kids can.” As Rabbi Larry Kushner writes, “There are places children go that grown-ups can only observe from afar.”

According to the Midrash on Job 37:6, G-d made the Earth from snow. “From where was the dry land of the earth made? From the snow that is under G-d’s Throne of Glory.” According to Maharal, the 16th Century rabbi of Prague, snow is an illuminating force tantamount to spiritual light. (Wait until you see the picture at the end of this post!) “That is why God made the earth from snow, because people on earth need to be reminded of God’s involvement in man’s affairs,” Rabbi Boruch Leff wrote in 2001. “Snow descends and covers the grounds as if to shout, ‘Remember that it is God that is constantly covering the ground and providing everything in our life.'”

Rabbi Everett Gendler used to have a snow service once a year where he would add poetry about snow and beautiful photos from the American Museum of Natural History. A similar resource is Kenneth Libbrecht’s book of photography, The Snowflake. As a CalTech physicist, he has spent his entire career studying snow crystals and his photography is gorgeous.

This year my birthday got snowed out. No services. No party. No dinner out. Just snow. One of my Boston friends suggested I build a snow sanctuary. “Why not?” I said. We are in the middle of reading the directions for building the tabernacle in the desert. They had lots of sand. We have lots of snow as a natural resource.

So on Wednesday at Hebrew School, we built a mishkan out of snow. We looked at pictures and building plans. We shoveled out the courtyard. We made snow walls. We went on a treasure hunt in the building. We spray painted a cardboard box to make the Ark of the Covenant. We found the tablets of the 10 Commandments and a brass pot for the brazen laver. We found a seven-branched menorah in gold. We found a challah for the “showbread”. We put of a Tent of Meeting. We used purple, blue and crimson. We turned a tallit into the veil separating the Holy of Holies. We used a rock for the altar. We built a fire. Then we had hot chocolate and popcorn and we talked about inviting the Presence of the Divine to join us.

It was a good day. I think the kids will never forget the winter they built a snow sanctuary.

They say that clothing makes the man, and jewelry makes the woman. Today’s Torah portion is all about clothing and jewelry. But there is a point to these instructions.

Remember those bands from a few years ago that said WWJD. No, it did not mean as someone suggested, “Worldwide Jewish Domination.” It stood for “What would Jesus Do,” and if you looked at the bracelet on your wrist you might remember what you were supposed to do—be like Jesus, act like G-d. In Latin, Imitatio Deo, imitating G-d.

We have a tradition of imitating G-d too. Sifre Eikev, which we read this morning says,  “To walk in God’s ways” (Deuteronomy 11:22). These are the ways of the Holy One: “gracious and compassionate, patient, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, assuring love for a thousand generations, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin, and granting pardon” (Exodus 34:6). This means that just as God is gracious, compassionate, and forgiving, you too must be gracious, compassionate, and forgiving.” The text continues that as G-d clothed the naked, we should clothe the naked. As G-d visited the sick, you should visit the sick. As G-d fed the hungry, you should feed the hungry. As G-d buried the dead, you should bury the dead.” So walking in G-d’s ways is imitating G-d.

We know the expression, “I’ll be there with bells on….”, meaning something like I am excited and pleased to come. I will be there to celebrate, wearing my finest. It first appeared in a F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. But its roots go much deeper. Some say that it is a reference to the bells that teamsters would tie on their horses that were transporting goods. If their wagon broke down, then another teamster would ask for their bells as a reward. Arriving to their destination “with bells on,” was a source of pride. Some say it is a reference to the bells or knobs that were on beds in England. Or it is a reference to the bells on a jester’s costume. Or to the bells that told the time in a naval watch.

There are lots of popular cultural references to bells and faith. In the movie, It’s a Wonderful Life we are told that “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.” While I don’t think that is true, I love the movie. For George, the bell becomes a reminder to be grateful for his life, his wonderful life. Something he didn’t understand until his guardian angel showed him what the world would be like if he hadn’t been in it, thus earning his wings.

In another Christmas story, Polar Express, a boy, from Grand Rapids no less, has lost his love of Christmas. He is whisked away to the North Pole and because he is a good kid and helps other kids on the train, is given the privilege of receiving the first gift of Christmas from Santa—a bell—, which then falls through the hole in his robe pocket. Santa finds the bells and delivers it all wrapped up. When he opens his gift, he and his sister can hear the bell, but his parents cannot and assume it is broken. Chris Van Allsburg ends the book with  “At one time, most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed, it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I’ve grown old, the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe.”

So the bell has to do with belief, with faith.

But many say it comes from this week’s Torah portion. The cohanim, the priests, needed to sew gold bells and pomegranate-shaped tassels of blue, purple and scarlet, onto the hems of their robes.

Why? Like the phrase “with bells on” the text does not give us an answer. The pomegranate is easy. Pomegranates grow in Israel, one of the seven species. They have 613 seeds and are a reminder of the commandments.

But the bells. They are more complicated. Some say the bells are so that when the High Priest, the Kohain HaGadol entered the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur, the sound of the bells would signal that he was still alive. Some say that the sound of the bells chased away danger—noise often does. Some say that they were to summon the presence of the Divine. Some say the bells were a necessity to keep him alive, lest he die.

I think all of the clothing and the jewelry that this portion commands are to remind the cohanim, the priests of how they were to behave. Clothing makes the priest. The names of the twelve tribes were inscribed as a reminder. Each of the jewels on the breastplate was one of the tribes, as a reminder. The Talmud itself teaches something similar. Each of the pieces of clothing reminds the priest to avoid specific sins. The breastplate was to prevent miscarriages of judgment. The me’il, the jacket would prevent gossip, lashon hara, an evil tongue, with those noisy bells, which would drown out the sound of gossip. The three colors of the tassels remind us that there are three people who are injured when lashon hara is spoken—the speaker, the listener and the one who is spoken about. The Ephod would prevent succumbing to idolatry. The tunic, like Jacob’s coat of many colors would remind us against spilling blood in jealousy and murderous rage. The robe, against sins of sexual impropriety, the headdress against arrogant thoughts (BT Zev 88b)

Even the colors, the purple, the blue, the crimson. They too served as reminders. Rabbi Emil Hirsch, who helped found this congregation, who drove out on a stagecoach—probably with bells on and is a source of pride for Simon for his commitment to social justice, wrote an article for the Jewish Encyclopedia about color. The white was the color of purity, the purple, the lower animal level, the crimson, the human level and the blue of the sky, Godliness. A more modern commentary added to it and said they represent the four worlds and that human beings reflect a combination of those four levels. It is all of us.

Rashi deduced a law for all the priestly vestments: “From the negative one can derive the positive: if he will have them he will not be liable for death; thus, if he enters lacking one of these garments he is liable for death at the hands of Heaven.” While that would seem a pretty severe punishment, Maimonides rules the same way. Getting too close to the Divine can be scary, even dangerous.

I think that is the point. Not only is the High Priest consecrated to G-d but every Israelite man and woman is, every Jew is. We are told that we are to be a light to the nations, a kingdom of priests and a holy nation. As Jewish law developed, The development of Jewish law and observance has produced numerous instances of obligations and prohibitions that originally were intended only for the kohanum, democratically extended to all Jews so that we are a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.

We typically don’t wear bells. But we do have a uniform of prayer, of service, as it were tallit and tefilin. These too are set up as reminders. They remind us what our behavior is supposed to be. When you look at the tzitzit on the tallit you are reminded of the 613 commandments or the Presence of G-d or both. When you wrap yourself in tefillin you make the word Shaddai, one of the names of G-d, with the straps. When I wear a kippah, it reminds me to be humble, to “know before whom I stand.” It is like my version of the WWJD bracelet and if I drive through McDonalds or go shopping at Jewel it keeps me honest in some way. I wear other things as well. I always wear the 10 Commandments. I wear a wedding ring that is inscribed, “Live Contented.” I wear a bracelet that is inscribed, “Ani l’dodi v’dodi li,” I am my beloved and my beloved is mine to remind me of Simon’s love.

So for each of you, I have a gift. A little gold bell. Something you can put in your pocket, or tie on a ribbon of purple or crimson or blue. Something to remind you of how to behave, of the 613 Commandments, of how to be a holy person, of the very Presence of the Divine.

Yesterday was Super Bowl Sunday. It is also known as World Wide Wrap by the Federation of Jewish Men’s Clubs. It is an opportunity to “teach our children diligently” and explain the commandment to “bind them as a sign upon your arm and as a sign before your eyes.” What does that phrase mean? To put on tefilin, phylacteries, strips of leather with these very words in little boxes. To wrap yourself.

At Congregation Kneseth Israel, we wrapped. The men did tefilin and the older Hebrew School students, 4th through 8th grade did tallit. Why? Because we are commanded to wrap ourselves in fringed garments too. Most kids will wear a tallit for their Bar or Bat Mitzvah. They may never attend a weekday morning service where tefilin are used.

I struggle with this event every year. While I like the commandment to wrap yourself with fringes (tzitzit), tefilin just don’t speak to me. So much so, that when I was applying to rabbinical school after college I ruled out Jewish Theological Seminary because they were going to require women to wear tefilin.

Let’s be clear. As I read halacha, women are exempt from the commandment to wear tefilin but they are not prohibited from wearing them. If a woman wants to, she can and should be able to. One year for the World Wide Wrap I began my discussion with a picture of Tefilin Barbie. http://www.hasoferet.com/bar/barbie.shtml What does this doll say about where we are in American Jewish society? That we have made it? Is it good for the Jews or bad for the Jews? That it is OK for women to wear tallit and tefilin? That I want to be like Barbie? Because usually the answer to the last one is, “No, I don’t want to be like Barbie.” Ultimately I think it is mixed.

This year there has been a lot of chatter about Orthodox girls being allowed to wear tefilin. At one Jewish day school in Riverdale, two high school girls have now been permitted to wear tefilin. http://forward.com/articles/191256/modern-orthodox-high-school-in-new-york-allows-gir/ Rabbi Lookstein, at Ramaz on the Upper East Side has said that girls would be granted the opportunity to daven with tefilin if so requested, but he has yet to receive such a request. http://www.haaretz.com/opinion/.premium-1.571258

This is exciting big news. 

However, these decisions have come with quite a bit of controversy in the Orthodox community. One of the best pieces of writings was in Ha’aretz: http://www.haaretz.com/opinion/.premium-1.571258

I have seen these arguments before, used on both sides. While I like the intellectual stimulation and challenge of following these arguments, I don’t like what it does to spirituality. It actually breaks the spirit. Here are some girls, who want to do something that has been permitted in the past arguing for their halachic rights. If it enhances their spirituality and their meaning and doesn’t really break halacha, let them do it. Similarly, the Men’s Club looked a series of videos on youtube about how to correctly wrap tefillin–and how not to! The language employed in some bashing the other methods were cruel and bullying. That can never be appropriate. That can never be halachic.

Neither is calling a woman an abomination. Several years ago, Noa Raz was physically assaulted by an ultra-Orthodx man in Beersheva’s Central Bus Station. According to the press release, the man asked Raz twice if the imprints were from tefillin. When she told him they were, he began to kick and strangle her while screaming “women are an abomination.” Raz, who practices Conservative Judaism, and is studying at the Fuchsberg Center, broke free from the man and boarded her bus. http://jta.org/news/article/2010/05/13/2394791/conservative-woman-attacked-for-tefillin-imprint

Traditionally, it is clear that tefilin have been the domain of men. Something men are obligated to do, required to do. Women can–as long as they are consistent with it, take it on as a commandment. And from the earliest times we know that some have. We learn in the Talmud that “Michal, daughter of the Cushite wore tefilin and the sages did not protest.” (Eruvin 96a) In another place it states that “Michal, daughter of King Saul laid tefilin.” (JT Eruvin 10:1, 26a) But just as quickly we are told that “Women, slaves and minors are exempt from the recitation of Sh’ma and from tefilin but are obligated for the Amida prayer, mezuza and birkat hamazon.” (Berachot 3:3). This last mishnah plus the idea that tefilin are men’s clothing (also prohibited) is what gives credence, despite the references to Michal, to the prohibition of women donning tefilin according to the Shulchan Arukh and other sources.

Maggie Anton contends in her wonderful series of books, Rashi’s Daughters, that Rashi’s own daughters wore tefilin. I love these books. They are great novels and Maggie has done substantial historical and textual research. They make medieval Jewish France and Germany come alive. Nonetheless, while stories of Rashi’s daughters wearing tefilin existed before Maggie Anton’s novels, apparently there is no good historical evidence of their accuracy. Other women in the time period did.  Fazonia, the first wife of Rabbi Haim ben Attar, wore tallit and tefillin, as did Rabbi Haim’s second wife. The Maid of Ludomir (Hanna Rachel Werbermacher) in the 19th century also wore tefillin.

Poet Ruth Brin describes Winter this way:
Falling, deeply fallen, the snow,
continuous, silent, covers the ground,
the roots of plants and trees, seeds, spores,
cocoons, the various multitude of living cells,
covers completely, persistently
the white face of earth,
spreading relentlessly,
continuously,
as we who are masking, always masking,
deeply masking ourselves.

This is Shabbat Terumah. It is also Rosh Hodesh Adar 1, Chinese New Year’s, a black moon and my birthday. That is a lot of celebrating. It was also a snow day, in itself a gift. No where to go. No Shabbat services to lead. Just quiet. Breakfast in bed. Long run on the elliptical. Shoveling. Long bubble bath in the late afternoon light, enjoying the view of snow laden evergreens. It was beautiful.

I am intrigued by this confluence of events. I learned that a black moon is when two new moons appear in the same month. It is an auspicious time. It is also a SuperMoon, appearing 14% bigger, even though it is a new moon.

In Judaism, we can’t have a “black moon” since all of our months start with a  new moon. We have a lunar calendar and because there are only 28 or 29 days in a lunar month periodically we need to adjust the calendar so that holidays continue to appear in their seasons. (Remember how crazy it seemed to have Chanukah before Thanksgiving?) Every so often we correct and add not just a day but an entire leap month–Adar 1. This is one of those years.

I always think that Adar 1 is a gift, a gift of a whole month. But not everyone feels that way. Some see Adar 1 as the invisible month, representing the invisible Dinah, maybe the masking, the hiding of ourselves as Brin described. Maybe that is a gift of winter, as we hide.

Yesterday I met with the seniors at the Victory Center and explained this odd calendaring. They knew Dinah only from “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” and a song I had never heard (written in 1925) about Dinah in Carolina. I read them the story of Dinah in the Bible. It is not a pretty one. Chapter 34 outlines it: “And Dinah, the daughter of Leah, whom she bore to Jacob, went out to see the daughters of the land. And Shechem, the son of Hamor the Hivite, the prince of the land, saw her, and he took her, and he lay with her by force and he humbled her…Now Jacob heard that he had defiled Dinah his daughter, and his sons were with his cattle in the field, and he was silent until they came.”

The text is not explicitly clear what happened to Dinah and then she disappears. She is invisible. Jacob is silent. Jacob cares more that the sons created a problem for him rather than caring for Dinah. Anita Diamant wrote a whole book, the Red Tent, on the New York Times bestseller list for years, to tell the story from Dinah’s point of view. One of the women yesterday said, “He raped her.” She then went on to say, “I was raped when I was 12 and I was invisible. I never talked about it again.”  And that is the gift of Adar 1, to make the invisible, visible. To feel safe to say the unspeakable. To gather strength and courage in the dark of winter. To be able to see the new moon.  It is a gift.

The women understood the importance of gifts. It is about life, health, children, education, kindness. A doll, a drum, a soccer ball are less important. Fleeting.

Our Torah portion today begins, “G-d spoke Moses, saying, Speak to the children of Israel, have them bring Me an offering, a gift. Take My offering from everyone whose heart compels him to give.” What are these gifts? Does G-d require gifts? The Torah mentions gold, silver, copper, fine linen, ram’s skins, purple, crimson, blue yarn, jewels, even dolphin skins. Where did they ever find dolphin skins in the desert? Why the detail?

Sometimes I have students try to build a model of the mishkan. They read the text, give me a shopping list and I go to Michael’s. I buy leather, “jewels”, gold and brass rings, balsa wood. I’ve never found dolphin skins. Sometimes they build a model out of legos. This year the kids seem to want to build it in MineCraft.

Ruth Brin in her poem “Building” has it right:
Out of the cedars of the forests
the ores of the mountains
the stones of the hills
the copper of the desert,
from the earth itself,
the metals hidden in the earth
and the life that springs from the earth,
they built the Temple
where they came to worship
the Creator of the earth.
The Temple was a psalm of stone.

Building a tabernacle is about making holy space. It is about the gift of the spirit. Our homes are to be a mikdash me’at, a little sanctuary, a little tabernacle. I am grateful for the gift of my home. How lovely are our dwelling places, “mishkanotecha Yisrael.” It has heat and light and warmth and that wonderful spa tub with a view of the evergreens.  I admit I am not much of a builder. But every year we would build a Lincoln Log cabin for Lincoln’s birthday (also in February). We would make a cherry pie for Washington’s birthday. It was a tradition; a ritual. Of course we used to joke if we did it once it became a tradition. You try it. Those rituals are about making holy space too.

Today I received a gift. Not a material gift. It was a bright red cardinal that perched outside in the snow. It seemed to watch me while I was running on the elliptical. I remember the first year after my mother died, Simon and I were in Ogunquit for my birthday, and a bright red cardinal appeared against the bright blue sky. They have appeared other times too. Earlier today someone had said, “A cardinal is a representative of a loved one who has passed. When you see one, it means they are visiting you. They usually show up when you most need them or miss them. They also make an appearance during times of celebration as well as despair to let you know they will always be with you. Look for them, they’ll appear.” My mother was a cardinal. She grew up in Saint Louis. She rooted for the Cardinals all her life. She collected cardinals. I have one that peeps in my office. And here it was, a perfect gift on a snowy morning.

My mother tried to celebrate every day, especially in February. My birthday, ground hog’s day, Lincoln’s Birthday, Valentine’s Day, her anniversary, Washington’s Birthday, Girl Scout Thinking Day. And then, the days would be longer, March would be here and spring would arrive. That was a gift too.

Life itself is a gift. Again, from Ruth Brin, her translation/poem of Shehiyahnu:

We thank You, Eternal G-d
for telling us,
“My love around you,
My blessings on you
have surely brought you to this day.”

Someone told me yesterday that birthdays are to be celebrated, because they mark the day you came into the world, that you enriched the world, just by being born. May we each hear the Divine telling us, “My love around you. My blessing on you.” That love is a gift. May it be so for each of us.