Thursday, February 25, 2010

Follow Me: A Sermon/Meditation

This week we read the Torah portion, Terumah, which means a portion set apart, or something lifted up. It is perhaps one of the more mysterious portions there is. It describes the design for the Tabernacle, the portable place of sacrifice used during the Israelite travels in the wilderness. Details are recounted that seem matter of fact. Give a freewill offering, Moses is to say to the people: a voluntary contribution of building materials. The specifications are very exact. Follow me, the Eternal seems to whisper. Gold for the Aron HaKodesh, the ark topped with angels having the faces of children, into which the holy tablets were to be put; a curtain with more angels woven into it, for the tent of meeting, to limit access to this most holy place, the holy of holies. Also in the tent: hidden from view, the golden Menorah, shining in the dark; and the table, more like a baker’s rack than a table, with twelve loaves of bread, the symbol of the Divine-Human partnership: God’s sustenance and our labor; and the incense altar, smoky and fragrant, its gold reflecting the flames of the menorah’s light, its cloud partially concealing what we believe is reality, softening its edges.
Outside the Holy tent, the large copper laver, the bowl almost as big as a man, for washing: the ritual of water purification that is as old as humanity itself; and the copper altar, topped with smoldering coals, for offering sacrifices, that ancient mechanism of life and death, whereby the people drew near to God. And everything enclosed in a rectangle by posts and white lace hangings, very like the size and proportions of this synagogue. It must have been very nearly sensory overload: the colors of red, turquoise, purple, white, silver & gold; primal sounds, light, darkness, aroma, sight, touch, and feeling.
Make me a sanctuary, a Mishkan, God says, that I may dwell, shakanti, among them. That word, Shakan, dwell, became Shechinah, the indwelling, holy presence, close as breathing: above us, within us, and all around us. Take these materials, God says: cast off metal gifts from Egypt: linen and colored wool, clothing, blankets, and carpets. They and you will lose their mundane shape and purpose. They and you will become holy. Follow me, God says in this text, “As all I will show you.” Can you follow directions? Are you willing to follow me? Can you follow me, God seems to say? If you can; if you will, great holiness and blessing await. If you do, I will speak to you, as the Apter Rebbe said, “in the quiet places of the heart.” Can you give up some of your desires, some of your will, to make a space for me, a place for me, in your heart? Take yourselves to me. Take this offering to me. I will take whatever you give: gifts and money; animals, symbolizing your wealth, your labor, and your very life; and what you give with an open heart I will take and I will give back the joy of my proximity, the elation of re-union; the certainty of my protection and care. If your inner light has been prepared; if you have kept it burning for me in the recesses of your soul, you can approach the golden ark of my holiness with the purity of children, with the wholeness of the angels who do my work and mediate between heaven and earth. You will do that work. You will serve in gladness, and I will give you my sustenance, but you will live on my love. Build me a sanctuary in your heart, that I may dwell among you, in your heart, in your soul, but also in your interactions with others, in your community, in your society, in your world. It will not be done alone. We will do it all together. Build a world for me. Build a world with me. Follow me, please follow me. Set yourselves apart, and be lifted up. Let us now begin.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Judaism: The Spiritual Path

This week’s Torah portion is Yitro – named after Jethro, Moses’ Father in Law. Jethro meets Moses and the Israelites at Mt. Sinai, bringing Moses’ wife and two sons with him. He advises Moses to establish a system of judges and courts. Moses takes his advice and Jethro departs. The people prepare themselves for the great day on which God will speak to them, what we call The Revelation – the only time in human history that God’s words were heard simultaneously by a whole group of people. In preparation for the encounter, God speaks to Moses and says, “And now, if you really listen to me and keep my covenant, you shall be to me the most beloved treasure of all peoples, for mine is the entire world. You shall be to me a kingdom of priests, a holy nation.” This was a new system. Those who worshipped idols at that time would speak to the Priest, who spoke to the god through the idol. The god would speak to the priest and the priest would convey the information to the people. But now, the Israelites were each to be their own Priest, with no intermediaries. And this is the system we have today. Or is it? As we read the text, a further dimension suggests itself. Not only are we to have no intermediaries, but each of us is to become a holy person; our own leader, our own conduit to Divinity, living a holy life dedicated to doing the work of the Divine. This is the Jewish spiritual path. It sounds strange: the Jewish spiritual Path, but that is what the Revelation was meant to be the inception of. We were given a mission, a purpose, not only to be the guardians of the Torah, as we have faithfully been; but to be exemplars of its truths, exemplars of holiness: a nation in which holiness was the norm, a nation that would clearly demonstrate to all, that one can walk an authentic path of goodness and blessing. As it says in Deuteronomy (4), we were to be so holy and blessed that the nations would say, “Surely a wise and discerning people is this great nation. For which is a great nation that has a God Who is close to it, as is God our God, whenever we call? And which is a great nation that has righteous decrees and ordinances, such as this entire Torah…? Rabbi Elimelech, one of the Chassidic Masters, wrote about the Jewish spiritual path, guiding and urging his followers to take up this path. Using the imagery of Rabbi Isaac Luria, the famous 16th Century kabbalist of S’fat in Israel, he writes, “This is our main service, to release the sparks from the outside forces and elevate these sparks back to their source in holiness…. The Shechinah (the Divine Presence) is with us in bitter exile, for the Shechinah is constantly watching, yearning for this uplifting.” Rabbi Elimelech says that God is yearning for us to create blessing. But also, we are yearning. We are yearning and searching for the Way; for the knowledge of how to reclaim the Jewish spiritual Path that will lead us to wholeness and holiness. Of all the world’s spiritual paths, of which there are many, Judaism is fascinating, not only because it was the first of the world’s great religions, but because it is God-approved. The path laid out for us is one of deeds, which lead to self improvement; and also of knowing and being informed of the holy words so that they can sink into our consciousness and take root there, like seeds which germinate, sprout, and flower, bringing forth the fruit of righteousness. The deeds are sometimes but not always, an end in themselves. Some are acts of charity and loving kindness, which help to repair the pain and suffering of the world. Other actions are there to teach us humility and compassion, implanting within us the desire to become holy. That desire is the key to the path. Once we embark on the journey, we are accompanied and shown the next steps, by a Presence we occasionally sense but may not directly experience. We are led toward holiness. Not that we will ever become holy, but that we are led away from impurity enough to continue our approach.
We will read, in a few weeks of the terrible fall from grace of the Israelites, when they lost faith that Moses would return from the mountain, which led them to worship the Golden Calf. At that time, Moses, in a crisis of confidence, asks God for more information. Moses says to God, “Show me your glory.” God tells him, no human can see me and live. I understand this to mean that if we came into contact with the Divine Presence, it would be too much for us to stand. If we experienced the full power of just one large ocean wave, we would be destroyed. That power is only a tiny fraction of the Power of God. If we fall in love, we are overcome with feelings of bliss and love. It is only an infinitesimal taste of the bliss and love of God’s totality. And we, impure and unholy beings that we are, if we were to encounter the absolute purity, truth, goodness, and holiness of God, it would be like matter and anti-matter colliding: it would be too much for us to bear and we would be blown apart. The Jewish spiritual path is a human path that enables us to shed the unneeded impurities we are willing to part with, to make us just holy enough to keep moving forward so that we can walk closer to the Divine Presence. It is a God-approved path, tailor made for us human beings: an authentic path that leads to blessing and holiness. There is so much hunger for real spiritual growth, and the Jewish Spiritual path is there, waiting to be rediscovered. Rabbi Arthur Green says, “…the voice of Sinai still cries out to us today…sometimes we forget the special value of our own unique witness, and the need the world still has, to hear the call of Israel.” We ourselves need to reenter the holy stream of Judaism. Our souls are crying out for it. It is, and the Shechinah is, just waiting for us to embrace it.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Meeting Challenges Together

This week’s Torah Portion is Bo, which means, “Come.” It contains the last three plagues: locusts, darkness, and the death of the firstborn; the commandments to remember these events by the observance of Passover, a new calendar, the consecration of every firstborn to God, and the departure from Egypt.
This story is so familiar, as it comes not only now, at this time of the Torah reading, but also at Passover. At this time of the year, each January, we have just come through the December holidays, including the New Year, during which we, like the Israelites, develop heightened expectations. January looms ahead: a New Year, a blank slate, an opportunity to forge something better or happier. And then as we live this first month, a sameness can set in. There may be difficulties, the same challenges or new challenges. In the opening part of this portion, Pharaoh is beset by the continuing challenges of the plagues and has to confront the new difficulties of the last three plagues. Moses has to keep going back to Pharaoh with threats, pleas, and fiats. He tells Pharaoh that he will never see his face again, and then has to turn around and tell him about one more plague. The Torah tells us that Moses leaves Pharaoh’s presence in a burning anger. This in itself is a teaching. Life is going to be a challenge. It’s not supposed to be easy. We think that life is supposed to be placid and enjoyable, but God says, “Bo.” Come. The Kotzker Rebbe says that Come means, come with me – I am with you. For me, it is like those nursery school children that can be seen around town going on a trip, walking together with their teacher, who hold onto a loop in a rope. The teacher has the end of the rope and walks in the lead and the children hold onto their place along the rope, walking in a line behind the teacher. God is the teacher and we are the children. Sometimes we walk quietly and placidly, but sometimes God runs ahead with the rope and we are pulled along much faster than we want to go. We are jolted out of the place we are in, to a new place. God is running ahead, unwilling for us to stand still or walk too slowly; and we are frantically trying to hold on and not lose our balance. This portion teaches that there will be challenges. The question then becomes, how do we face them? What is our attitude and how do we interpret those challenges? Rabbi Gelberman is fond of saying, “every problem comes with a solution.” Just knowing that can be comforting; having the attitude that the challenge will be worked out somehow. The Apter Rebbe, an ancestor of Abraham Joshua Heschl, wrote that if God caused a situation, it is for the good. Somehow, there is something in every challenge that is a lesson, an opportunity, a place of growth or a time of deepening compassion. In this portion, one very obvious teaching is that God is an active force in everything that happens. And that is another principle for us: God is active so we should be active. Passivity is stagnation, spiritually speaking. If God is providing problems, tests for us, and hidden solutions, we must find those solutions. We must actively anticipate the growth and resolution on the far side of the challenge. When Moses left Pharaoh’s presence in a burning anger, could he have seen the parting of the sea and the revelation of the Ten Commandments, would he have had more patience? Might he have been able to put aside his own ego concerns and mobilize his inner forces with dynamic anticipation rather than self centered anger? The events may have been the same but his attitude would have been very different, and he may have been able to negotiate the difficulties with more grace and less frustration.
In a later verse in this portion, describing the first Pesach, the Torah says, “This was the night for God, a protection for all the children of Israel for their generations.” Not just for them, for those Israelites, but also for us. No matter what challenges we experience, we ARE under God’s perpetual protection. All the Divine assistance we need is at our disposal. We are being sent solutions. It is up to us to accept the Divine Love that comes to us, actively seeking out the help we are being sent and coming closer to the Source of Life. As the Kotzker Rebbe said, God is saying, Bo, Come: come with me. I am taking you on a fabulous journey. I am with you and we will face these challenges together.