NWP Shabbat Message - August 27, 2010

Dear Friends:

Yesterday marked the 90th Anniversary of the passage of the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution granting women the right to vote. There have been many tributes and articles from varied sources concerning the struggle that led to that momentous event, and a little discrepancy about the date itself. August 26th, however, is the date that it actually passed by the required amount of votes. This, it seems, is the key element in making sure that a defining document lives up to its intent – and beyond. It is a reflection not only of the legal imperative of the Constitution, but also of the spirit and meaning behind that imperative.

Sometimes, we need to go beyond the letter of the law in order to accomplish the spirit of the law.

The same can be said of our Torah and the mitzvot of Jewish life. The mitzvot are the basic minimum; this is the letter of the law and it is to be followed, but not slavishly, and certainly not without thoughtful intention. Implicit in this is the notion that one is required to go beyond that minimum in the performance of mitzvot. It is meaningless, for example, to follow ritual law to the letter, and then to ignore the plight of the needy. If the performance of mitzvot does not lead one to a higher morality and level of kindness, it is not accomplishing its purpose. We will hear strains of this theme as we get closer and closer to the High Holidays, and our actions – or failures to act – become all too apparent.

It is all a matter of the right intentionality with which we live our lives, and it is sometimes difficult to maintain the proper perspective. It is somewhat easier with the larger events of our lives: the birth of a child; recovery from a serious illness; grand acts of nature. We sense the Divine in our lives at moments of great portent, but what of the other, more subtly meaningful moments? It is not always as obvious, but it can foment enormous transformation in us, and eventually, our world.

It is here where the mitzvah of prayer becomes relevant. Prayer is a means towards sensitizing us to these precious occurrences in our lives. Blessing a moment or an event does not make it more important; it calls to attention the importance inherent within it. When we thank G-d that our bodies function normally, or for the air that we breathe, or for the ability to recognize kindness in the world, we are not making these things holy, but we are moving towards greater purpose in our lives. If we sanctify the fact that we can live unfettered by illness, we will be more compassionate towards those who struggle with illness. If we deem sacred the acquisition of knowledge, then we will ensure that it is accessible to all. It is something more than not taking things for granted; it is about an intrinsic appreciation for the value of things granted to us.

This week's parashah, Ki Tavo, contains two prayers: the prayer to be recited when the Israelites were to dedicate the “first fruits” of their harvests in the Temple, and the prayer a farmer was to say upon setting aside a tenth of the gleanings (tithe) for the poor. The fact that this was being commanded in the wilderness – before we had even entered the land upon which a Temple could be built or a field sown – only serves to underscore its importance. But what is the connection between these two, such that it was so important to command a blessing before they were even possible? In each instance, a rather mundane action is being highlighted for a greater purpose; perhaps it is to underscore that all comes from G-d, so even those things we donate have a divine source. Both items are the product of human activity and work, but their origin is from G-d.

Again, it is a matter of intentionality. The source of everything on earth is from G-d, but the generation of those raw materials into something of meaning and purpose is the realm of humanity. Being able to recognize our value in this way is also a means to conferring greater value on others and on our ability to make a true and enduring difference in the world. These thoughts resonate for us as Jewish leaders, and especially at this time of year. As we engage in a period of introspection and personal accounting, we consider whether we focused on the right things this past year; that is to say: did we fulfill our roles as catalysts in transforming the G-d-given gifts within our reach into instruments of kindness, meaning and usefulness? When we concentrate our energies properly, we are better able to effectuate the kind of positive change that we all desperately seek, and advance the kind of community in which we would all choose to live.

We are continuing through Elul more purposefully now; each morning the blasts of the shofar awaken us to new revelations about ourselves and the way in which we ought to conduct our lives. Let one of these be a greater appreciation for what truly matters: justice and compassion; honesty and integrity; the ability to love and to receive love from others. May we be blessed to recognize these qualities in ourselves and let them radiate out into the world where they can improve the lot of others. That, after all, is the neshamah – the soul – of our mission as leaders, and as a people. With greater intentionality of our thoughts and actions, we can build and sustain a more meaningful, compassionate and exciting community and ultimately, repair the world.

And that certainly gets my vote.

Shabbat Shalom!

Beth M. Mann
Managing Director
National Women's Philanthropy