Shemini

          I am Tsilya, daughter of Yitzhar, wife of Aaron, the High Priest, mother of my Lost Boys, Nadav and Avihu. You will not read my name in the Great Scroll of the Torah; no. My name has been lost in darkness.

That day, the Great Day of Coronation and Dedication of the Altar through Sacrifice, had begun so favorably, so full of promise for the future—I was exhausted, as usual, but running all about, as I had to, caring for our children; we had many—not just the four boys, but our three daughters; you will not read of them, either. God prefers boys and men.

Girls do not count; why should they? They cannot learn the Laws of the Hidden One, He Who Dwells in Smoke and Thunder. We women-folk are more quietly learned; we know the ways of the Earth-Mother, the Shechinah, the Old Goddess of Grains, and Fruits, and the Cycles of Seasons. We are the ones who cook, and bake, and sew; we bring Life into the World.

          As I said… it began in triumph. My boys, my boys—they were anxious, though eager to serve God; they were nervous. Their father Aaron had instructed them; Moses, their uncle, had drilled them, over and over and over: so many details! So many ingredients! This, to make up the Holy Incense; That, to measure out the Holy Oil; this way, how to examine the carcass of a Beast to judge it fit for sacrifice….       

They were overwhelmed, running around the tent, gibbering in their nervousness. I had laid out all of their garments, so carefully, so lovingly, the night before. I was their mother! Who should know better than I, who had raised them? They were out the door, before I could gather my three, beautiful Daughters, and bring them along, too—

I heard the silver horns of the Tent-of-Meeting sounding a sennet, and the earthier tones of the shofarote, the rams’ horns, summoning the People, in the distance. I heard, and saw, the assembled multitudes of the Israelite Tribes cheering— And as I finally, desperately, snatched up my youngest, my dark-eyed, sweet Ariela, who was laughing, and turning her head away from her Mother’s kisses, as she dawdled—she was five, my youngest. Carrying her, I rushed for the door of the Tent of Meeting.

And there he stood: my Husband, my Aaron. Where was his Splendor? His Golden Headband, with its Golden Words, “Holiness to the Lord”? Instead, he stood there, his royal, priestly robes bedraggled and torn. He was trembling. He did not—look at me.

“How is it with you, My Husband, My Lord?” I asked him.         

He stood, stock-still. I took him by his priestly shoulders and shook him:       

“Aaron! It is I, Tsilya, your Wife, who speaks to you!”        

He blinked, and looked down at me—and rasped; a throaty noise came from his lips, as if he had been drained of all juice in his body; as if he had become a piece of wood himself, like those piney chips he burns atop the Altar-Flame. He wiped a sooty hand across his lips, opened his mouth, and—         

“Dead,” he croaked.         

“Dead cows? Dead goats?” I asked.       

“No. Dead—“ he rasped          

I realized. Slowly. But did not wish to.        

“Aaron,” I said, and the words stuck in my throat, “Aaron. Where are my boys? Where are Nadav and Avihu? And Elazar and Itamar, my younger sons?”         

“Elazar and Itamar are fine. But Nadav and Avihu,” he muttered, more to himself than to me, “are struck down—by the Hand of the Invisible One. They—“      

Each word of his echoed in my ears, and tore a hole into my Mother’s heart. Nadav? Avihu? Dead? But I just saw them leave; they were going—were going—      

“How? Why?” I said.        

“They made a mistake,” he said, “Strange fire. I cannot tell. The smoke—the fire—the clouds, all black—I could not see. They disappeared into the darkness—there was a lightning-bolt, an explosion—and then, I saw: they were lying there. Gone—gone, gone….”        

“I saw it happen,” came a voice, a strong, deep one.

I looked, and saw Moses—my brother-in-law, the Spokesman for our God—his God, at least. No more mine.          

“It was harsh, but justified,” he said to me—Moses, that is—“Your boys were wrong, in what they did. They did not follow my—that is, God’s—instructions. When a priest wields the Sacred Fire, he must do so correctly, strictly according to Torah, or God knows what might happen. As it did. And they are dead. I am sorry, Tsilya, but the ways of God are just.”

“God knows, and—God—is—just—” I croaked, legs suddenly numb, so that I slumped to the floor of the tent, there in the dust before my-husband-my-lord and his-brother-the- Spokesman, “God may know, but I—but I….”

I lay there, and wept. The men left, as men do who know not what to say. My daughters gathered ‘round, and we cried together, for my poor, dead, Lost Boys….

Why? What did they do? Tell me God what did they ever do to You? You Who claim to love us so….        

…And that is why I left the Camp, and stay in this tent, this Black Goatskin Tent, outside the Camp Boundaries. I mourn; I pile dust upon my head; no one comes to visit me, except—Bless Her! Miriam. She is my solace.

My brother Korach has also been by:         

“There is no Justice, and no Judge,” he whispers, through the closed tent-flap, and, “You will be avenged, my Shadow, my Sister, my Tsilya.”        

Miriam does not agree. She weeps outside the Tent; I weep within. We mourn my Boys together.         

I still do not know exactly what they did wrong.         

They were so young. Why must the Young die on the Instructions of the Old?      

O Shechinah, Earth-Goddess-Mother! Help me to return to my People; help me to believe, again….

OUR RABBI - David Hartley Mark

WATCH RABBI MARK , To Life, L'Chaim #217 - Rabbi David Mark (You Tube)

Rabbi David Hartley Mark was born in New York City, and grew up on the Lower East Side, that legendary Jewish immigrant neighborhood, attending Hebrew Day School. He was first from his school, the East Side Torah Center, to attend Yeshiva University High School for Boys—Manhattan. David attended Yeshiva University, where he attained a BA in English Literature, a BS in Bible and Jewish Education, and a Hebrew Teacher’s Diploma (HTD). He spent his third year of college at Bar Ilan University in Ramat-Gan, Israel, where he developed a fluency in Hebrew, and toured around the country. He has also attained a Certificate in Advanced Jewish School Administration from the Hebrew College in Brookline, MA.

David attended the City University of New York Graduate Center, where he earned an MA degree from Queens College, as well as an M.Phil. degree, majoring in 17th Century English, specializing in the work of John Milton, as well as the Romantic Poets. A year teaching Hebrew School in a Reform temple in Brooklyn convinced him of his great love of Judaism, and he began attending the Academy for Jewish Religion, Yonkers, NY, where he was ordained a rabbi in 1980.

He met Anbeth, who was hired as temple secretary the same day he was hired to teach. They were married in 1978. They have two grown children, Tyler and Jordan, as well as a grandson, Aidan.

Rabbi Mark served pulpits in Warren, NJ, Fayetteville, NC, and Portsmouth, NH, in which last pulpit he spent 22 years, a record for that state. Seeking warmer climes, as well as closer family members, he and Anbeth took the pulpit of Temple Sholom in 2009. He also fulfilled a lifetime dream of teaching English at Keiser University in Ft. Lauderdale.  

OUR CANTOR - ANITA SCHUBERT

 

Cantor Anita Schubert, grew up in Queens and Lynbrook in New York, says it was a combination of her love for both singing and religion that led her to train to become a cantor. “I grew up in a conservative synagogue. My parents weren’t super religious,” she said. “I started going to shabbat services and never stopped. I learned the musical chants . . . all the right stuff. I picked it up and was able to lead services as well. When I was a teenager I was asked to be one of the adult leaders in the junior congregation. I graduated to running it.”

Although she found her niche leading her congregation, it never occurred to her to be a cantor. “I was the wrong gender until the 80s.” As for her musical style, “It’s mostly a cappella. But I have been accompanied by someone on guitar and piano.”

Her academic background includes both undergraduate and graduate courses in music theory, sight-singing, ear-training, music history, conducting, choral arranging, voice building for choirs, vocal training, as well as studying the piano and flute. Plus, “I began singing in choirs starting in the third grade.”

She also took college courses in Hebrew, modern Jewish thought and the history of Jewish music.

Schubert said although women had been taking cantorial courses, they were not considered cantors at first. However, things changed for the better when women were finally accepted into the Cantors Assembly, an international association representing the cantorial profession.

Schubert has been actively working as a cantor at various congregations around the nation for many years before her new position at Temple Sholom. She realizes her coming here will be an historic event for the local place of worship. And what will she bring to her new congregation? “My spirit, my choice of music. We have a lot of options. We go beyond the traditional.”

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