by Judy Wexler I recently had the opportunity to visit southern Spain, where so much Jewish history exists. I even had the privilege of attending a community Pesach Seder in Seville, where there is currently a small but thriving Jewish community. Nonetheless, for the most part, Jews have not lived in that area for over 500 years. As we toured the ancient cities there, I was faced over and over again with the devastation experienced by the Spanish Jews, culminating with the death of so many and the expulsion of others. Spanish Jews were denied their most basic freedoms, as occurred at so many other times in our history, although some continued to practice their Judaism at great risk. As I traveled and visited old synagogues and museums dedicated to the Spanish Jews, I recognized the theme of exile, which our people have faced so many times. This week’s parashah, B’har, or “at the mountain of”, presents laws given to Moses on Mt. Sinai. Thus, we begin the parashah by recognizing the close relationship between the people of Israel and God, during the period of the Exodus. The handing down of these laws at Sinai also emphasizes their importance.

by Karen Maes Parshat Emor, while establishing many rules and regulations, has a major overarching theme, acceptance, or lack thereof. Leviticus 21 and 22 mainly talks to the priests. As written in The Torah, A Women’s Commentary, Parshat Emor: “The text places emphasis on avoiding desecration of the sanctuary by keeping the holy from coming into contact with impurity or with disqualifying imperfections.” I understand what the end goal was but I think the priests, by only accepting what they deemed as perfect, probably overlooked many good people. In fact, I am not the only one who sees this. In 2007 Amy Scheinerman, wrote in Voices of Torah, “We might understand banning profligate priests, but barring physically impaired kohanim from officiating offends our moral sensibilities.” She goes on to say, “Is human imperfection offensive to God? Is a kohein’s physical perfection in some way a reflection of God’s perfection?” One of the things I love about Reform Judaism is that I am not afraid to disagree with our sacred texts. In fact, discussion and questioning is welcomed and encouraged. Perfection means inequality and lack of inclusion.

by Renee Roth Holiness. This parashah is all about holiness and rules for keeping us holy. “You shall be holy, for I, your G-d, Adonai, am holy. “ According to The Torah, A Woman’s Commentary, all of the following commandments are set in the context that God is holy and that we are to strive toward holiness in every aspect of our lives. The entire community is gathered and addressed; men and women- YEAH, we are included! And then, we have a long, long, list of rules that we need to follow about how we are to be holy.

by Doris Schyman On May 14, 1948, Israel declared its independence from Britain. The next day began the War of Independence. In the end, Jerusalem was divided and the old walled city lay entirely in Jordanian hands. But in 1967, in six days, I.D.F. forces and paratroopers from the 55^th Brigade captured East Jerusalem and the entire West Bank. Jews returned to pray at the place where our people prayed for more than 2,000 years. The Declaration on the Establishment of the State of Israel, written in 1948 and read by David Ben-Gurion, includes the phrase: “the state will uphold the full social and political equality of all its citizens, without distinction of race, creed, or sex; will guarantee full freedom of religion, conscience, education, and culture; will safeguard the sanctity and inviolability of the Holy Places of all religions.”

by Linn Ullenbrauck The 7^th day of Passover is a pretty special time. This week is unique as there are two different parashahs read during this Shabbat. For the 7^th day of Passover there is a special reading from B’Shalach. In this portion we recount Pharaoh’s anger after the loss of his son. He decides to pursue the Israelites and encounters them at the edge of the Red Sea. God gives Moses the ability to stretch his staff and the sea parts so the Israelites can cross into the land of Canaan. God stops Pharaoh and his men with a pillar of fire but then the fire dies down and allows the Egyptians to go after the Israelites. Unbeknownst to them, God had other plans. Once the Israelites reached the other side, Moses stretched his staff and a miracle happened that the sea roared back to its original state. It is in this parashah that a poem is read on the 7^th day of Passover called The Song of the Sea. The Song of the Sea was supposedly sung by the Israelites after they crossed the Red Sea in safety. It celebrates the destruction of the Egyptian army during the crossing, and looks forward to the future conquest of Canaan. The Song of the Sea is considered one of the oldest texts describing the Exodus.

by Marla Goldberg As we sit down at our Sederim tonight, we will be observing the most celebrated holiday, by most Jews, most often. How ironic it seems to me, to always hear about those not affiliated, not claiming their Judaism, when I have spent a minimum of six to eight weeks, observing the grocery store shelves fill wide and deep with items we wait for all year. You know the ones, “Kosher for Passover” food, most of which is never bought at any other time of the year. As we consider this week’s parashah, we begin with our journey leaving Egypt. Two areas were remarkable to me and I share my gleanings. The first is that having lived in Egypt for 430 years exactly, now was the time. Literally, a turning point—this is described as a night of vigil—not only for all of us but also for God. I believe this to be the main theme of this holiday. The Hebrew word shimmurim, keeping watch, is used. As pointed out in The Torah: A Women’s Commentary's translation, we are “all in” this reciprocal relationship with God. God watches out for us and makes the Exodus happen, and in turn, we must attentively follow detailed rituals to mark this astonishing event.

by Sheilah Abramson-Miles My husband is a rabbi. He dreads this Shabbat. Why? Of all the Torah portions, M’tzora and Tazria, which we read last week, are the most thematically difficult for a modern Reform Jew. M’tzora deals with purification for leprosy, discharges from sexual organs, and dealing with blight in houses. Where is k'dushah (spirituality) here? How can a rabbi relate this to any person or situation in her or his temple? There must be an answer; there always is. Perhaps we can make a connection to the rhythm of our Jewish lives. We only must look to our Jewish calendar. Pesach begins next Shabbat. Of all our festivals, Pesach is the most popular, the most observed. More Jews make or participate in a Seder than any other of our annual rituals. Why? In Hebrew, Pesach is Z’man Heruteinu, our season of freedom. This message of freedom has resonated with us for 4,000 years. If we truly immerse ourselves into the Haggadah, we take a spiritual journey from slavery to freedom. How? During the Seder we proclaim “Avadim hei’inuu, we were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt," not only our ancestors 4,000 years ago but, through the medium of the Seder, our gantze mishpacha, our entire Jewish family! By retelling the story to each new generation, by eating fresh raw horseradish root (if we dare) we share a little bit of the physical pain.

by Deborah Radin This week’s parashah, Tazria, translates to “she conceived” or “she gives birth”. And yet the text focuses not on the birth but on regaining purity after giving birth, also describing various skin diseases and the rules of ritual purity relating to those ailments. It is a difficult portion to read and to relate to our modern sensibilities. How did a Torah portion with such a beautiful, promising title turn into a discussion of purification rituals after childbirth? In an attempt to answer this question, I want to go back to the beginning. Conception is a beginning. The infant is innocent and unaffected. In such a susceptible state, the child has the potential to mature into a kind, caring, positive person, or can instead become difficult, unhappy, and negative. As the mother, while I do not have sole influence, my actions are significant in determining the kind of person my child will become.

Parashat Sh’mini, meaning “eighth,” refers to the eighth day of the priestly ordination of Moses’ brother, Aaron, and his sons. We have nice gory, detailed descriptions of the ritual offerings for Aaron, his household, and the entire community. The depictions of these animal sacrifices are very visual, rather dramatic, quite violent, and awe-inspiring for all—women included—to witness: “Fire came forth from before God and consumed the burnt offering and the fat parts on the altar. And all the people saw, and shouted, and fell on their faces” (Leviticus 9:24). This parashah also discusses Aaron’s sons', Nadab and Abihu, ill-conceived offering of incense in their fire pans to God. God reacts swiftly and kills the two promising newly ordained young priests by a flash fire.