Good Shabbos

10th Kislev, 5767

On the heels of thanksgiving, I wanted to point out an interesting correlation between the Hebrew for Turkey (the bird and the country) הודו, and the root of the word for thanks (תודה) which is simply, הוד. Do you think whoever invented the turkey/thanks connection knew this?

Now that Hanukkah’s around the corner – it’s not just a holiday, but a season, or rather an experience of darkening days and a pressing, almost claustrophobic need for light – I’ve got a few questions for you to consider. Firstly, we all know the oil lasted for eight days when it should have lasted for only one, and that our holiday celebrates these eight days of miracles, but the obvious question is that the first day wasn’t a miracle at all! One day of oil was perfectly non-miraculous, so why do we have eight days and not seven (yes, our tradition explicitly says the eight days correlate to eight miracles, so to speak). Secondly, what’s the difference between the dreidel of Hanukkah and the grogger of Purim? Better yet, what’s the significance of one being spun top down and the other bottom up (meaning: either from the top or from the bottom)? If you’re sure it’s nonsense or at best coincidence, think again! (you MLFII participants hopefully can remember the answers, right?). You can log-in your suggestions below (comments) and I’ll post the answers next week.

You all are familiar, I assume, with the saga of Jacob’s being duped out of his true love, Rachel, and having his scoundrel brother-in-law, Lavan, substitute Leah in her place. Okay, under the Chuppah, women customarily wear a veil (some thicker than others, obviously) and the dancing’s always separate at the religious ones, but how did the duplicity survive the bedroom?! We see clearly in the Torah, in this weeks portion, that Jacob knew his wife and only in the morning recognized the problem and complained to Lavan. The plot thickens when we read the Midrash (commentary) explaining that Jacob and Rachel were well aware of Lavan’s plans and had developed an intricate system of coded identification (turning on the lights was not an option – its reasoning can be discussed another time, but I’m sure with a little thought you could work out the direction). What’s also amazing is that later in the Torah, Leah accuses Rachel of having stole her husband, meaning her exclusivity with him, when he ultimately married Rachel afterwards – Leah was convinced she was always the intended first. But the answer lies in Rachel’s response – or lack thereof. Rachel’s sensitivity to her sister’s honor was so great that once Lavan had shown his unbending and deceptive intent to marry-off Leah first, Rachel never let Leah sense that this was anything but the expected procedure and even handed Leah over the codes in a way which convinced Leah that Jacob had merely sent her, Rachel, as their messenger. Through her whole life, Leah never knew the truth (all you romantics needn’t worry – Jacob loved Leah very much nonetheless). Jacob as well showed the same sensitivities, only complaining to Lavan, but never to Leah – imagine his composure when awakening to find not his intended, and yet still mustering up an unflinching, totally convincing portrayal of normalcy and joy. I’ve always been inspired by this display of deep respect for another’s honor.

Wishing you a wonderful Shabbat,

Rabbi Lynn