It is such a gift to be able to share a book with a friend. Recently, I reconnected with an old friend and we began speaking every day about the hostage situation and war in Israel. Our conversations were heavy and often ended in tears. While we have continued our discussions around the current troubling situation in our homeland, we decided that our renewed connection also needed some levity, and we started a book club of two. We’ve been sharing author names and book titles and texting or calling a few times a week to check in. Sharing books has lifted our spirits and reignited our beautiful friendship. It has been a much needed gift during this painful time.
My husband and I are lucky to have a vast library of books from our days at seminary together, and if you ever visit my office, you’ll notice a large, beautiful bookshelf lined with hundreds of sacred books. Without a doubt, the book I lend out most often to people who walk in my door is The Torah: A Women’s Commentary, edited by my teachers from the Hebrew Union College, Andrea Weiss and Tamara Cohn Eskenazi. This book is extraordinarily special to read and a blessing to share. Not only does it contain the traditional Torah text, but it is also layered with a wide variety of post-biblical interpretations and gorgeous poetry inspired by the biblical text.
In this week’s parshah, Vayakhel, the People of Israel are given special instructions for building the tabernacle structure and surroundings as a place for God to dwell among us. We learn how to construct the coverings, frames, textile partitions, all the interior furnishings as well as the makings of the altar and surrounding courtyard. We read of the tall poles of acacia wood, copper rings, and shining mirrors at the entrance of this Tent of Meeting (Exodus 38: 5-8). The images are striking and beautifully described.
And in this special Women’s Torah commentary, there are poems penned by Jewish women based on these intricate lines describing our tabernacle, including one particularly memorable poem by Israeli poet, Lea Goldberg (which is included in our own machzor for our Yizkor service). Goldberg skillfully connects the rings and mirrors described in this week’s parshah to those in her own family home, connecting the reader not only to the previous generation but to hundreds that came before. I hope you’ll enjoy this passage by Goldberg, and I hope you’ll stop by my office to borrow a book sometime, too.
— Cantor Emma Lutz
From My Mother’s Home (Lea Goldberg, 1911-1970)
My mother’s mother died in the spring of her days.
And her daughter did not remember her face.
Her portrait, engraved upon my grandfather’s heart,
Was erased from the world of images after his death.
Only her mirror remained in the home,
Sunken with age into the silver frame.
And I, her pale granddaughter, who does not resemble her,
Look into it today as into a pool which conceals its treasures beneath the waters.
Very deep down, behind my face,
I see a young woman, pink-cheeked, smiling, and a wig on her head.
She puts an elongated earring on her ear-lobe, threading it
Through a tiny hole in the dainty flesh of her ear.
Very deep down, behind my face, the bright goldness of her eyes sends out rays,
And the mirror carries on the tradition of the family:
That she was very beautiful.