Shalom a todos!!
Por acaso alguém poderia me ajudar a harmonizar a nossa crença em D-us incorpóreo com os relatos aparentemente "físicos" de HaShem na Torah? sei q o Eterno não pode se limitar a uma forma, isso é claro; mas pq existe esses supostos relatos físicos no Tanach?
Por acaso alguém poderia me ajudar a harmonizar a nossa crença em D-us incorpóreo com os relatos aparentemente "físicos" de HaShem na Torah? sei q o Eterno não pode se limitar a uma forma, isso é claro; mas pq existe esses supostos relatos físicos no Tanach?
2 pessoas gostam disto.
Carlos Ir Talia
Boa pergunta, aguardo respostas tbm.
Boa pergunta, aguardo respostas tbm.
Magalhães Luís
The parsha, called Vayera, which means “and he appeared,” begins with God visiting Abraham. Normally, when God appears in the Torah, God comes to impart an important message. However in this parsha, God appeared, and before God could say anything, Abraham saw three men standing nearby. Abraham faced a choice: Should he greet the men and put God on hold or stall the men so he could listen to God.
Abraham didn’t hesitate even for a moment. He ran to greet the men and invited them to his tent for dinner. He became so focused on arranging the preparations for the strangers that he never returned to listen to God’s message. Abraham’s counterintuitiv
During their meal, the three men told Abraham that he and Sarah would soon have a baby.
After eating our dinner, I took my children to the restaurant’s play area, where my son started playing with the boy who had approached us earlier. The boys had no initial awkwardness between them, and I thought about how much more easily children get to know each other than do adults. I commented to the man how cutely the boys were playing together, and we struck up a conversation. He explained to me that his nephew, Buck, was 7 and autistic. Part of Buck’s condition involved not recognizing social boundaries and, as a result, he was an exceptionally outgoing child, far more so than his uncle who always struggled with his own shyness.
In Jewish tradition, there is a blessing that is said when one sees someone with a disability. The formula blesses God for “making God’s creations different.” This blessing always puzzled me; why do we bless God for deformities? However, in this moment, I understood the meaning of this blessing. Buck’s different way of perceiving situations had an important Torah to teach; like Abraham, Buck had demonstrated the mitzvah of welcoming the stranger.
In the parsha, the mitzvah of hospitality is immediately followed by the news of a child to come. Indeed, the two are intricately linked. Children have a special way of bringing people together. (Without the kids, the uncle and I probably never would have spoken.) Young children don’t see the boundaries that separate us as adults. They teach us that such barriers can be traversed. Like Abraham, children help us see God by opening our eyes to each other.
Rabbi Ilana Grinblat teaches rabbinic literature at the American Jewish University’s Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and their two young children.
Read more: http://
The parsha, called Vayera, which means “and he appeared,” begins with God visiting Abraham. Normally, when God appears in the Torah, God comes to impart an important message. However in this parsha, God appeared, and before God could say anything, Abraham saw three men standing nearby. Abraham faced a choice: Should he greet the men and put God on hold or stall the men so he could listen to God.
Abraham didn’t hesitate even for a moment. He ran to greet the men and invited them to his tent for dinner. He became so focused on arranging the preparations for the strangers that he never returned to listen to God’s message. Abraham’s counterintuitiv
During their meal, the three men told Abraham that he and Sarah would soon have a baby.
After eating our dinner, I took my children to the restaurant’s play area, where my son started playing with the boy who had approached us earlier. The boys had no initial awkwardness between them, and I thought about how much more easily children get to know each other than do adults. I commented to the man how cutely the boys were playing together, and we struck up a conversation. He explained to me that his nephew, Buck, was 7 and autistic. Part of Buck’s condition involved not recognizing social boundaries and, as a result, he was an exceptionally outgoing child, far more so than his uncle who always struggled with his own shyness.
In Jewish tradition, there is a blessing that is said when one sees someone with a disability. The formula blesses God for “making God’s creations different.” This blessing always puzzled me; why do we bless God for deformities? However, in this moment, I understood the meaning of this blessing. Buck’s different way of perceiving situations had an important Torah to teach; like Abraham, Buck had demonstrated the mitzvah of welcoming the stranger.
In the parsha, the mitzvah of hospitality is immediately followed by the news of a child to come. Indeed, the two are intricately linked. Children have a special way of bringing people together. (Without the kids, the uncle and I probably never would have spoken.) Young children don’t see the boundaries that separate us as adults. They teach us that such barriers can be traversed. Like Abraham, children help us see God by opening our eyes to each other.
Rabbi Ilana Grinblat teaches rabbinic literature at the American Jewish University’s Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and their two young children.
Read more: http://
