This week’s Torah portion begins the Book of Exodus, or Shemot, which means, names. It tells of the first instance of Anti-Semitism, of our persecution and enslavement in Egypt, of the birth of Moses, God’s call to Moses to take the Israelites out of Egypt, and Moses’ first encounter with Pharaoh. In this portion, Moses sees a burning bush. God speaks to him and gives him the task of being an intermediary between God, Pharaoh, and the Israelites; and of securing the people’s release from Pharaoh by being the voice of God.
Moses was our most important and holy prophet. The way a person becomes a prophet is through God’s contact. God spoke to Abraham & Sarah, then Isaac & Rebecca, then Jacob. After these Patriarchs and Matriarchs, the first contact with a prophet was typically by means of a vision. Each person is contacted in the way most fit for him. People from priestly families, the commentators have said, who were used to seeing grandeur, have grand visions. Much later, after Moses, God gives grand visions to Isaiah, who saw angels flying about singing praises, and to Ezekiel, who sees angelic four-faced creatures gleaming, moving about on wheels with eyes on the sides of the wheels: a sound and light show. Moses is contacted very differently.
The Torah says, “Moses kept the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian; and he led the flock far away into the wilderness, and came to the mountain of God, at Horeb. And an angel of God appeared to him in a flame of fire in the midst of a bush; and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed. Moses said, I will now turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt. And when God saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I. And God said, Do not come any closer; take off your shoes from your feet, for the place on which you stand is holy ground.” (Ex. 3:1-5)
Moses is contacted without a vision. He is presented with a strange occurrence in real life, similarly, in fact, to the way God contacts each of us: through the occurrences in our lives. Moses is asked to notice something, and then to try to figure it out. Being brought up as a prince in the palace of Egypt, we would expect that Moses would have been given a grand vision, something opulent. But Moses is contacted not primarily through his senses, but through his intelligence. This tells us that Moses was very smart. He can be seen as the first modern man. He is fully literate: he reads and writes, which will be important skills for him later, when he must write the Torah. He has had the finest secular education of the time, and little does he know that he is being tapped not only to lead the people out of bondage in Egypt, but really to be a philosopher-king.
It is to Moses that God reveals the Divine name twice: yud, hei, vav, hei, the realization of which is to usher in a new understanding of morality, existence, and Divinity. Moses is a pre-scientific man, called upon to begin not only a new age of morality, but an age of morality fused with a scientific approach to the life of the spirit. It is through Moses that God will bring a new understanding of the way reality is structured, as outlined in the Torah.
In a sense, we live in a similar time, only we approach our task from the opposite direction. Moses came out of a spiritual time, when all the features of the natural world – the rocks, the sun, the wind, the sea, the trees – were thought to have their own gods and spirits. The people lived in a kind of spirit world. We live at the end of the age of reason, which has culminated in the information age. It is our task to return to the world of the soul and bring it into our scientific age, making a synthesis, as Moses was to bring the science of morality, the science of Oneness, and the science of cause and effect to the spirit word of his time. How can we do this?
As Moses noticed an oddity, we are called upon to notice the oddities that occur in our lives: the strange coincidences and the way our lives seem to work out and connect them back to the world of the spirit. As Moses taught the laws of cause and effect, we can test the principles in the Torah according to the laws of action and result, choosing the good, the kind, the peaceful, that which is patient, forgiving, and generous; and see the results, almost as if we are conducting a scientific experiment. We can also notice how our lesser choices produce the opposite: difficulty and lack of ease in moving through life. By bringing our scientific world view into the spiritual realm, and the spiritual realm into scientific realty, we learn, as Moses knew, how to navigate in both worlds simultaneously. This is where we are meant to live. We owe this knowledge to God, but also to Moses, whose noticing, questioning, and choosing is still our model today. We are meant to be both rational and spiritual creatures. As we have become more scientific and rational so may we also be more spiritual. May we live fully in both worlds, being equally at ease in each.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Friday, November 8, 2013
Unconditional Love
This week’s Torah portion is Toldot, which means generations. It tells of the birth of the twins, Esau and Jacob to their parents, Rebecca and Isaac. Jacob pursuaded Esau to sell him his birthright, the right of inheritance of the firstborn. There is also a section about Isaac’s servants re-digging the wells of his father, Abraham, and of making peace with the local chieftain; and then there is the well-known story of how Rebecca and Jacob trick Isaac into giving Jacob the blessing of the firstborn, after which Jacob has to leave home to escape his brother’s anger.
Rebecca and Isaac initially had no children. Isaac had been an older groom, she a younger bride. They yearned for children and waited so long, until their prayers were answered with the great blessing of fraternal twins. Esau was born first, a redhead with lots of hair. Jacob, with little hair, was born second. Right from the start, Jacob was a very different person from Esau. The Torah says, “The lads grew up and Esau became a man who knows trapping, a man of the field. But Jacob was a homespun man, abiding in tents. Isaac loved Esau, for game was in his mouth, but Rebecca loved Jacob.” Esau was an active person, a lover of the outdoors, hunting, and physical pursuits. Jacob was quieter: more of a mama’s boy, content to be at home, inside, someone who would rather talk than do; a feelings person who formed a strong bond with his mother. We know how destructive it is when each parent has a favorite, and I’ve spoken on this topic before. We can also look at what the Torah says about the quality of the two relationships, of parent to child and what we can learn from them.
Isaac, we are told, loved Esau because he brought him delicious food. Rashi quotes the translation of Onkelos who said, “Because he would eat of his trapping.” Perhaps Isaac also admired Esau, as the commentators have said, because he possessed the qualities that Isaac lacked: physicality, decisiveness, and energy. Or perhaps he admired Esau, the man of action, in contrast to his inaction at the akedah, when he thought he would be sacrificed. We are not told why Rebecca loved Jacob, but perhaps we can author a midrash to fill in the gaps; to explain how Jacob became Rebecca’s confidante, best friend, and constant companion. Isaac, so many years her senior, may have become remote. Perhaps she forgot her loneliness during the long afternoons of conversation with her younger son. In Pirkei Avot it says, {Mishnah V:16 [V:19 in Hirsch Translation]) “All love that depends on a [TRANSIENT] thing or physical cause will pass away when the cause is no longer there, but the love that is not dependent on a cause will never pass away. Which is the love that depends on a cause? The love of Amnon for Tamar; and which is the love that does not depend on a [TRANSIENT] cause? The love of David and Jonathan.”
As a parent, ideally, we should fill the role of God, loving each child for all of himself: applauding their strengths and supporting them to become strong, independent, happy adults. But so often, whether with children or even with our friends and other family members, our own needs can overshadow the ideal, unconditional love that we are capable of giving to each other. In the book, 20th Century Jewish Religious Thought, in the chapter on Love, Steven Harvey quotes Abravanel’s commentary on “Love your neighbor as yourself,” “Just as you love yourself not for pleasure or benefit, so should you have no ulterior motive for loving your neighbor.” This is also the main topic of Martin Buber’s famous work, I and Thou. He writes, “This…is the sublime melancholy of our lot, that every You must become an It in our world…as soon as the direct relationship has run its course or is permeated by means, the You becomes an object among objects, possibly the noblest one and yet one of them, assigned its measure and boundary…Every you in the world is doomed by its nature to become a thing or at least to enter thinghood again and again…The It is the chrysalis; the You the butterfly.”
Perhaps only God is capable of giving continual, unselfish, unconditional love. The commandment to love your neighbor as yourself is a worthy goal that we will probably never reach; yet we can look at our motives clearly, seeing when our need to take is greater than our desire to give. Rabbi Gelberman has written about the necessity of loving a person the way that person wants to receive it, not the way we want to give it, thus serving the person’s needs and not our own. May we love less selfishly and more unconditionally, walking in God’s ways, emulating the great love God has for us, and giving of ourselves generously to each other. May we be more open to each other, less withholding of our love, and more universal in bestowing it, being more God-like and more human at the same time.
Rebecca and Isaac initially had no children. Isaac had been an older groom, she a younger bride. They yearned for children and waited so long, until their prayers were answered with the great blessing of fraternal twins. Esau was born first, a redhead with lots of hair. Jacob, with little hair, was born second. Right from the start, Jacob was a very different person from Esau. The Torah says, “The lads grew up and Esau became a man who knows trapping, a man of the field. But Jacob was a homespun man, abiding in tents. Isaac loved Esau, for game was in his mouth, but Rebecca loved Jacob.” Esau was an active person, a lover of the outdoors, hunting, and physical pursuits. Jacob was quieter: more of a mama’s boy, content to be at home, inside, someone who would rather talk than do; a feelings person who formed a strong bond with his mother. We know how destructive it is when each parent has a favorite, and I’ve spoken on this topic before. We can also look at what the Torah says about the quality of the two relationships, of parent to child and what we can learn from them.
Isaac, we are told, loved Esau because he brought him delicious food. Rashi quotes the translation of Onkelos who said, “Because he would eat of his trapping.” Perhaps Isaac also admired Esau, as the commentators have said, because he possessed the qualities that Isaac lacked: physicality, decisiveness, and energy. Or perhaps he admired Esau, the man of action, in contrast to his inaction at the akedah, when he thought he would be sacrificed. We are not told why Rebecca loved Jacob, but perhaps we can author a midrash to fill in the gaps; to explain how Jacob became Rebecca’s confidante, best friend, and constant companion. Isaac, so many years her senior, may have become remote. Perhaps she forgot her loneliness during the long afternoons of conversation with her younger son. In Pirkei Avot it says, {Mishnah V:16 [V:19 in Hirsch Translation]) “All love that depends on a [TRANSIENT] thing or physical cause will pass away when the cause is no longer there, but the love that is not dependent on a cause will never pass away. Which is the love that depends on a cause? The love of Amnon for Tamar; and which is the love that does not depend on a [TRANSIENT] cause? The love of David and Jonathan.”
As a parent, ideally, we should fill the role of God, loving each child for all of himself: applauding their strengths and supporting them to become strong, independent, happy adults. But so often, whether with children or even with our friends and other family members, our own needs can overshadow the ideal, unconditional love that we are capable of giving to each other. In the book, 20th Century Jewish Religious Thought, in the chapter on Love, Steven Harvey quotes Abravanel’s commentary on “Love your neighbor as yourself,” “Just as you love yourself not for pleasure or benefit, so should you have no ulterior motive for loving your neighbor.” This is also the main topic of Martin Buber’s famous work, I and Thou. He writes, “This…is the sublime melancholy of our lot, that every You must become an It in our world…as soon as the direct relationship has run its course or is permeated by means, the You becomes an object among objects, possibly the noblest one and yet one of them, assigned its measure and boundary…Every you in the world is doomed by its nature to become a thing or at least to enter thinghood again and again…The It is the chrysalis; the You the butterfly.”
Perhaps only God is capable of giving continual, unselfish, unconditional love. The commandment to love your neighbor as yourself is a worthy goal that we will probably never reach; yet we can look at our motives clearly, seeing when our need to take is greater than our desire to give. Rabbi Gelberman has written about the necessity of loving a person the way that person wants to receive it, not the way we want to give it, thus serving the person’s needs and not our own. May we love less selfishly and more unconditionally, walking in God’s ways, emulating the great love God has for us, and giving of ourselves generously to each other. May we be more open to each other, less withholding of our love, and more universal in bestowing it, being more God-like and more human at the same time.
Friday, November 1, 2013
The God in Us
This week’s Torah portion is Chaye Sarah, which means the life of Sarah. It tells of Sarah’s death and of Abraham purchasing a cave and field in Hebron, the Cave of Machpeleh, for her burial and the burial of his family. It’s still there, a holy site, where Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Leah are buried. Then Abraham sends his servant, Eliezer, back to his family in Mesopotamia, to find a wife for Isaac. It’s a beautiful story: Abraham does not want Isaac to marry any of the local Canaanite idol-worshippers. He needs to ensure that there will be grandchildren to inherit the land, and that his household and grandchildren remain monotheists. Eliezer envisions problems in the errand, such as: should he bring Isaac along? What if the young woman won’t come back with him? Abraham assures him that God’s angel will go with him and make the task successful. And this is just what happens – the events unfold miraculously.
Eliezer approaches a spring near Haran in the evening. As he arrives, he prays to God, “Adonai, God of my master Abraham, may you so arrange it for me this day and do kindness with my master Abraham. See, I stand here by the spring of water and the daughters of the townsmen come out to draw water. Let it be that the maiden to whom I shall say, please tip your jug so I may drink and who replies, drink, and I will even water your camels, her will you have chosen for our servant, for Isaac, and may I know through her that you have done kindness with my master.” The Torah then immediately says, “ And it was when he had not yet finished speaking that suddenly Rebecca, who had been born to Bethuel the son of Milcah, the wife if Nachor, brother of Abraham, was coming out with her jug upon her shoulder.” A few paragraphs later, the story is retold and the servant says, “I had not yet finished speaking to my heart when Rebecca came out with her jug on her shoulder.” The Torah also says the Eliezer was “astonished.” It was not just that his prayer came true, for it all happened just as he had requested God that it would happen, but that it happened with such great speed, before he even finished saying the words inwardly to himself.
That God hears our thoughts and prayers and knows what is in our hearts, we could call the Us in God. The Creator is not other that we, but we are within the Eternal, which allows God to know us: our thoughts, feelings, and actions. But what allows us to contact the goodness and blessings of God, so that they can come to us, as they came to Abraham and Eliezer? Perhaps it concerns us being in consonance with God’s wishes. God wanted Abraham’s descendants to inherit the land. God also wanted those descendants to be monotheists, so Abraham was took steps to further these results. Eliezer wanted to do his very best for Abraham and Isaac, to serve and to help. Rebecca wanted to be kind and to give generously of herself, by carrying water to a stranger. These three people performed acts of goodness, helping to further God’s plan. Thus, they were able to contact what we might call the God in Us, that goodness and generosity, that willingness to serve and help, that allows blessings to flow in the Universe. Miracles happen when we are aligned with God’s purpose. The Eternal is leading us to greater compassion and Oneness. When we express the essence of Holiness, through words, deeds, even intentions, we draw the attention of the Us in God, which allows us to experience the God in Us, leading to everyday miracles in our lives.
Aligning ourselves with goodness and generosity is not always easy, but knowing it is possible, knowing that we are expected to walk in that direction can help us choose the right way to go. May we all open our minds to the possibility of the God in Us, so that the Us in God feels real to us and becomes a tangible presence in our lives. May we be guided by the Holy One, our Divine parent and teacher, so that we walk, as Abraham, Eliezer, and Rebecca did, easily, joyously, and without impediment, within the mind of Divinity.
Eliezer approaches a spring near Haran in the evening. As he arrives, he prays to God, “Adonai, God of my master Abraham, may you so arrange it for me this day and do kindness with my master Abraham. See, I stand here by the spring of water and the daughters of the townsmen come out to draw water. Let it be that the maiden to whom I shall say, please tip your jug so I may drink and who replies, drink, and I will even water your camels, her will you have chosen for our servant, for Isaac, and may I know through her that you have done kindness with my master.” The Torah then immediately says, “ And it was when he had not yet finished speaking that suddenly Rebecca, who had been born to Bethuel the son of Milcah, the wife if Nachor, brother of Abraham, was coming out with her jug upon her shoulder.” A few paragraphs later, the story is retold and the servant says, “I had not yet finished speaking to my heart when Rebecca came out with her jug on her shoulder.” The Torah also says the Eliezer was “astonished.” It was not just that his prayer came true, for it all happened just as he had requested God that it would happen, but that it happened with such great speed, before he even finished saying the words inwardly to himself.
That God hears our thoughts and prayers and knows what is in our hearts, we could call the Us in God. The Creator is not other that we, but we are within the Eternal, which allows God to know us: our thoughts, feelings, and actions. But what allows us to contact the goodness and blessings of God, so that they can come to us, as they came to Abraham and Eliezer? Perhaps it concerns us being in consonance with God’s wishes. God wanted Abraham’s descendants to inherit the land. God also wanted those descendants to be monotheists, so Abraham was took steps to further these results. Eliezer wanted to do his very best for Abraham and Isaac, to serve and to help. Rebecca wanted to be kind and to give generously of herself, by carrying water to a stranger. These three people performed acts of goodness, helping to further God’s plan. Thus, they were able to contact what we might call the God in Us, that goodness and generosity, that willingness to serve and help, that allows blessings to flow in the Universe. Miracles happen when we are aligned with God’s purpose. The Eternal is leading us to greater compassion and Oneness. When we express the essence of Holiness, through words, deeds, even intentions, we draw the attention of the Us in God, which allows us to experience the God in Us, leading to everyday miracles in our lives.
Aligning ourselves with goodness and generosity is not always easy, but knowing it is possible, knowing that we are expected to walk in that direction can help us choose the right way to go. May we all open our minds to the possibility of the God in Us, so that the Us in God feels real to us and becomes a tangible presence in our lives. May we be guided by the Holy One, our Divine parent and teacher, so that we walk, as Abraham, Eliezer, and Rebecca did, easily, joyously, and without impediment, within the mind of Divinity.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Toward Harmony in the Human Family
This week’s Torah portion is Vayera, containing so many things to think about: Abraham’s hospitality in receiving guests, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, Sarah’s miraculous pregnancy and birth of a son, and later the near sacrifice of Isaac, saved by God, prohibiting the practice of human sacrifice for this new religion of Monotheism. For us, loving in a time of increasing acceptance of those who we perceive as the Other, people of a different ethnicity, religion, color, or cultural background, the story of the casting out of Hagar, Sarah’s handmaiden, and their son Ishmael, is deeply troubling.
God had promised Abraham children. After 10 years he has no child. Sarah generously suggests that the elderly Abraham try to have a child with Hagar. They are successful and Ishmael is born. But then, about 14 years later, Sarah conceives and gives birth to Isaac. Isaac becomes a toddler and Sarah sees Ishmael “mocking.” We don’t know what he was doing…. Whether he was being disrespectful to parents or adults, or torturing an animal, or being mean to Isaac or to another boy, or just being unbearably or obnoxiously sarcastic.But perhaps Sarah realizes that Isaac’s big brother, who will be a daily influence and who Isaac will look up to, will, in some way, corrupt baby Isaac. Sarah demands that Hagar and Ishmael be sent away. Sarah says, “Drive out this slavewoman and her son, for the son of that slavewoman shll not inherit with my son, with Isaac.
The matter greatly distressed Abraham regarding his son, so God said to Abraham, Be not distressed over the youth or your slavewoman, Whatever Sarah tells you, heed her voice since through Isaac will offspring be considered yours. Bur the son of the slavewoman as well will I make into a nation, for he is your offspring.” (Gen. 21:10-13) This is so puzzling. Why would God side with Sarah? We see this not as the freeing of a slave, but as a life-threatening abandonment of a woman and a child. Sarah frames her request in terms of inheritance, but the text implies that inheritance is not the real issue. It is the character of Ishmael that Sarah objects to. Ishmael is probably a typical teenager. Having had two teenage sons of my own, I know what a 15 year old boy is like. Even the best of them are trying at times. An interesting question is, why did God allow Sarah to see Ishmael’s objectionable behavior in that moment? Anything we see, we see for a reason. God must have wanted Ishmael sent away.
Initially, when Hagar became pregnant and began to look down on Sarah, Sarah complained to Abraham and Abraham put the matter in Sarah’s hands. Sarah dealt firmly with Hagar, and Hagar ran away. God brought Hagar back at that time. But now God causes Hagar and Ishmael to be sent away. We feel this to be an injustice. It is wrong to exclude anyone. We know that we are all one – all part of each other. I think perhaps there might be an ultimate purpose to Hagar and Ishmael being sent away.
How many of you had or have siblings? Can you remember what it was like growing up with them? You fought, made up, fought again, and became better people for it. Those conflicts served a purpose, and many, though not all, siblings go on to have deeply satisfying relationships. Here is another perspective: No one can go to college who has not completed elementary school. We can’t skip over certain life steps, certain necessary times of learning and struggle. In the same way, the human family is similar to young siblings. There is a necessary time of conflict: of learning, and of developing so that real peace can be achieved.
If we look at the time of the Torah, or the time of the Prophets, more than 2,000 years ago, the descriptions shock us. The time was more warlike, more brutal, more difficult to survive in. Our time looks more gentle, although there are still horrific wars, may they end soon. Perhaps we are on a continuum of learning how to get along with each other: how to be more peaceful human beings, how to develop real respect and even love for each other. And perhaps God knew that we could not skip the steps in between.
Yes, terrible problems have come out of the separation between the Arabs and the Jews. We have a long way to go before we as aggregate groups will be able to live peacefully. However we are learning. Perhaps we are only a third to a half of the way there. But neither are we at the place, in terms of our moral state, where our ancestors were. May we understand that conflict with others is a teacher; that we have been separated so that we can come back together, in love and acceptance. Our Divine parent is watching us patiently, encouraging us to react to each other with gentleness and forbearance. May we learn and grow, becoming more peaceful, less angry, more loving, and more caring about each other, causing our Divine parent to smile.
God had promised Abraham children. After 10 years he has no child. Sarah generously suggests that the elderly Abraham try to have a child with Hagar. They are successful and Ishmael is born. But then, about 14 years later, Sarah conceives and gives birth to Isaac. Isaac becomes a toddler and Sarah sees Ishmael “mocking.” We don’t know what he was doing…. Whether he was being disrespectful to parents or adults, or torturing an animal, or being mean to Isaac or to another boy, or just being unbearably or obnoxiously sarcastic.But perhaps Sarah realizes that Isaac’s big brother, who will be a daily influence and who Isaac will look up to, will, in some way, corrupt baby Isaac. Sarah demands that Hagar and Ishmael be sent away. Sarah says, “Drive out this slavewoman and her son, for the son of that slavewoman shll not inherit with my son, with Isaac.
The matter greatly distressed Abraham regarding his son, so God said to Abraham, Be not distressed over the youth or your slavewoman, Whatever Sarah tells you, heed her voice since through Isaac will offspring be considered yours. Bur the son of the slavewoman as well will I make into a nation, for he is your offspring.” (Gen. 21:10-13) This is so puzzling. Why would God side with Sarah? We see this not as the freeing of a slave, but as a life-threatening abandonment of a woman and a child. Sarah frames her request in terms of inheritance, but the text implies that inheritance is not the real issue. It is the character of Ishmael that Sarah objects to. Ishmael is probably a typical teenager. Having had two teenage sons of my own, I know what a 15 year old boy is like. Even the best of them are trying at times. An interesting question is, why did God allow Sarah to see Ishmael’s objectionable behavior in that moment? Anything we see, we see for a reason. God must have wanted Ishmael sent away.
Initially, when Hagar became pregnant and began to look down on Sarah, Sarah complained to Abraham and Abraham put the matter in Sarah’s hands. Sarah dealt firmly with Hagar, and Hagar ran away. God brought Hagar back at that time. But now God causes Hagar and Ishmael to be sent away. We feel this to be an injustice. It is wrong to exclude anyone. We know that we are all one – all part of each other. I think perhaps there might be an ultimate purpose to Hagar and Ishmael being sent away.
How many of you had or have siblings? Can you remember what it was like growing up with them? You fought, made up, fought again, and became better people for it. Those conflicts served a purpose, and many, though not all, siblings go on to have deeply satisfying relationships. Here is another perspective: No one can go to college who has not completed elementary school. We can’t skip over certain life steps, certain necessary times of learning and struggle. In the same way, the human family is similar to young siblings. There is a necessary time of conflict: of learning, and of developing so that real peace can be achieved.
If we look at the time of the Torah, or the time of the Prophets, more than 2,000 years ago, the descriptions shock us. The time was more warlike, more brutal, more difficult to survive in. Our time looks more gentle, although there are still horrific wars, may they end soon. Perhaps we are on a continuum of learning how to get along with each other: how to be more peaceful human beings, how to develop real respect and even love for each other. And perhaps God knew that we could not skip the steps in between.
Yes, terrible problems have come out of the separation between the Arabs and the Jews. We have a long way to go before we as aggregate groups will be able to live peacefully. However we are learning. Perhaps we are only a third to a half of the way there. But neither are we at the place, in terms of our moral state, where our ancestors were. May we understand that conflict with others is a teacher; that we have been separated so that we can come back together, in love and acceptance. Our Divine parent is watching us patiently, encouraging us to react to each other with gentleness and forbearance. May we learn and grow, becoming more peaceful, less angry, more loving, and more caring about each other, causing our Divine parent to smile.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Let It Be Me
This week’s Torah portion is Lech Lecha, which means, go for yourself. God speaks to Abraham, whose name is still Abram until the end of this portion, for the very first time, with the offer of great blessing, if Abraham will follow God, leaving his native land to journey to Canaan in order to establish a new nation there. Abraham does so and God promises him the land four separate times in this portion. At the end of Lech lecha, God makes a covenant with Abraham: Abraham and his descendants accept God as the only God, and as the sign of the covenant, every male will be circumcised at the age of 8 days. God then gives Abraham and Sarah their new names. There is an interesting story in this portion about a war between local chieftains. Four kings were battling against 5 kings. Abraham hears that his nephew, Lot, has been captured and immediately arms his employees to enter the fray and rescue Lot. Abraham’s allies are victorious and Abraham brings Lot back.
The kings gather to divide the plunder, the spoils of war. The Torah says, “And Malchizedek, king of Salem, brought out bread and wine. He was a priest of God the Most High. Malchizekek blessed him and said, Blessed is Abram of God, the Most High, maker of Heaven and Earth, and blessed is God, the Most High, Who has delivered your foes into your hand. (Gen. 14:18). This man, Malchizedek, whose name means Righteous King, is very mysterious. This is his only mention in the Torah. Apparently he is a priest who is a monotheist, someone who worships the one God. And even more intriguing, he lives in Salem, in other words, Jerusalem, the place where Jacob eventually will settle. So there is a monotheist in the very same area where God has asked Abraham to settle.
This is even more strange when we take into account another line from last week’s portion. We are told at the end of the portion, Noah, “Terah took his son Abram, and Lot the son of Haran, his grandson, and Sarai his daughter-in-law, his son Abram’s wife; and they departed from Ur of the Chaldees, to go to the land of Canaan; they arrived at Haran, and settled there” (11: 31). This verse tells us that Abraham’s Father, Terah, was also on his way to Canaan, but that he stopped and settled in Haran, which was still a part of Mesopotamia, and never completed the journey. Now Mesopotamia was the heart of civilization at this time. Canaan was the sticks. Why would anyone go there? Abraham’s brother had died in Ur. Terah had lost a child. Perhaps they were fleeing painful memories. Maybe we can see God’s hand in theses events.
It seems that perhaps God was trying to establish monotheism in this very specific place on the earth. Perhaps God tried to do this with Malchizedek, but it seems that Malchizedek’s influence was limited. Perhaps God tried to do this with Terah, Abraham’s father, but Terah didn’t follow through, whether through grief, exhaustion, or other factors. And then, God attempted it with Abraham, and this worked. Monotheism “took.” Abraham did establish monotheism in this very place, in Canaan, close to Jerusalem, and from there the knowledge of the One God has spread across the Middle East, Europe, the Americas, and the world. What can we glean from these verses and what is the Torah teaching us?
Perhaps it’s letting us know that God has many important tasks to carry out in the world and many things to teach humanity. These tasks can only be accomplished and these lessons can only be imparted through human beings. God therefore needs us to be God’s partners. Howard Schwartz, a professor at University of Missouri-St. Louis, a Jewish folklorist and mythologist said in an article in the Magazine, Reform Judaism, that “Rabbi Isaac Luria of Safed, known as the Ari was the first to propose that the Jewish people are God’s partners in repairing the world, The Ari did so by constructing a cosmic myth around the term Tikkun olam, In the Ari’s myth, the primordial light God sent forth on that first day is the same light scattered around our world as holy sparks, which each of us is called upon to seek out and gather.” This has become a mainstream Jewish teaching.
We are God’s partners in perfecting and continuing Creation. But we are imperfect. We don’t always follow through. Like Moses, who initially tried to evade the task God asked him to accomplish, leading the Israelites out of Egypt, we don’t always want to undertake the tasks presented to us. We can’t always complete what we have started. So God will keep trying to find the right person to bring more understanding into the world, and to accomplish what God thinks needs to be done. We are all called upon to do our part: a little part of all the things God would like done. May we be like Abraham, who, without hesitating, without arguing and without any delay, went forth to do what God asked of him. When something is asked of us: when we see how we can be of help and of service, may we say to the Source of Life, Hineni, just tell me what you want me to do, and whatever You, dear, Holy One wish to have done, Oh, let it be through me.
The kings gather to divide the plunder, the spoils of war. The Torah says, “And Malchizedek, king of Salem, brought out bread and wine. He was a priest of God the Most High. Malchizekek blessed him and said, Blessed is Abram of God, the Most High, maker of Heaven and Earth, and blessed is God, the Most High, Who has delivered your foes into your hand. (Gen. 14:18). This man, Malchizedek, whose name means Righteous King, is very mysterious. This is his only mention in the Torah. Apparently he is a priest who is a monotheist, someone who worships the one God. And even more intriguing, he lives in Salem, in other words, Jerusalem, the place where Jacob eventually will settle. So there is a monotheist in the very same area where God has asked Abraham to settle.
This is even more strange when we take into account another line from last week’s portion. We are told at the end of the portion, Noah, “Terah took his son Abram, and Lot the son of Haran, his grandson, and Sarai his daughter-in-law, his son Abram’s wife; and they departed from Ur of the Chaldees, to go to the land of Canaan; they arrived at Haran, and settled there” (11: 31). This verse tells us that Abraham’s Father, Terah, was also on his way to Canaan, but that he stopped and settled in Haran, which was still a part of Mesopotamia, and never completed the journey. Now Mesopotamia was the heart of civilization at this time. Canaan was the sticks. Why would anyone go there? Abraham’s brother had died in Ur. Terah had lost a child. Perhaps they were fleeing painful memories. Maybe we can see God’s hand in theses events.
It seems that perhaps God was trying to establish monotheism in this very specific place on the earth. Perhaps God tried to do this with Malchizedek, but it seems that Malchizedek’s influence was limited. Perhaps God tried to do this with Terah, Abraham’s father, but Terah didn’t follow through, whether through grief, exhaustion, or other factors. And then, God attempted it with Abraham, and this worked. Monotheism “took.” Abraham did establish monotheism in this very place, in Canaan, close to Jerusalem, and from there the knowledge of the One God has spread across the Middle East, Europe, the Americas, and the world. What can we glean from these verses and what is the Torah teaching us?
Perhaps it’s letting us know that God has many important tasks to carry out in the world and many things to teach humanity. These tasks can only be accomplished and these lessons can only be imparted through human beings. God therefore needs us to be God’s partners. Howard Schwartz, a professor at University of Missouri-St. Louis, a Jewish folklorist and mythologist said in an article in the Magazine, Reform Judaism, that “Rabbi Isaac Luria of Safed, known as the Ari was the first to propose that the Jewish people are God’s partners in repairing the world, The Ari did so by constructing a cosmic myth around the term Tikkun olam, In the Ari’s myth, the primordial light God sent forth on that first day is the same light scattered around our world as holy sparks, which each of us is called upon to seek out and gather.” This has become a mainstream Jewish teaching.
We are God’s partners in perfecting and continuing Creation. But we are imperfect. We don’t always follow through. Like Moses, who initially tried to evade the task God asked him to accomplish, leading the Israelites out of Egypt, we don’t always want to undertake the tasks presented to us. We can’t always complete what we have started. So God will keep trying to find the right person to bring more understanding into the world, and to accomplish what God thinks needs to be done. We are all called upon to do our part: a little part of all the things God would like done. May we be like Abraham, who, without hesitating, without arguing and without any delay, went forth to do what God asked of him. When something is asked of us: when we see how we can be of help and of service, may we say to the Source of Life, Hineni, just tell me what you want me to do, and whatever You, dear, Holy One wish to have done, Oh, let it be through me.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Inner Conversations
This week’s Torah portion is Noach: the well known story of Noah, the flood and the ark. God blessed Noah and his family: wife, sons, and daughters-in-law by allowing them to survive, because of Noah’s goodness. After the flood was over, and Noah and his family left the ark, Noah built an altar in gratitude to God for saving him and his family. The text tells us how grateful God was for Noah’s offering. God said to Noah, “I will not continue any more to curse the earth because of earthlings, for the design of human’s hearts are bad from their youth. God then promises never again to bring such a devastating flood to the earth, by reassuring Noah that all the days of the earth: “seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day, and night shall not cease.”
What are we to make of the statement, “for the design of his heart is bad from his youth,” also translated as “the devisings of man’s mind are evil from his youth.” The sages of the Midrash were quick to speak about the yetzer hara, the evil impulse, and the yetzer hatov, the good impulse. The unavoidable conclusion is that God knows us. God hears the negative mutterings in our minds and acknowledges what is, what truly exists: that to listen to the way we think isn’t always pretty. Nevertheless, God is merciful to us. The sage Nachmanides, who lived in 13th Century Spain, saw it slightly differently. He said that the phrase from his youth, means in his youth, in other words, Nachmanides maintains that there is learning that takes place, so that we grow out of plotting so much selfishness.
I think we could look at this with an additional perspective. We know that the thoughts that arise in us are often negative. We see life and interpret events, even events that occur to help us, negatively. We talk ourselves into depression. We allow our own often pessimistic thoughts to be the prevailing reality rather than the life, goodness, and blessings that have been given to us. Like the famous line from the comic strip Pogo, “we have met the enemy and he is us.” Rabbi Nachman of Breslau wrote so much on this topic. He knew how much misery we are capable of creating for ourselves by thoughts alone. Rabbi Nachman connects our negative thoughts to our opinions of ourselves. This is very psychologically wise and insightful. The principle of projection, that we project upon others what we lack or find unacceptable in ourselves, postulated by Freud in the 1890’s, is a modern day articulation of Rabbi Nachman’s insight.
In the Talmud there are two stories about a man named Gamtzu, which means, this too. The Talmud asks, “Why was he called…Gamzu? Because whatever befell him he would declare, Gamtzu This also is for the best.” Gamzu knew that maintaining an optimistic outlook always helped him in his life.
Rabbi Nachman used to tell this story: There was once a poor man who earned a living digging and selling clay. Once, while digging, he discovered a diamond which was obviously very valuable. Since he had no idea of its worth, he took it to an expert for appraisal. The expert answered, "No one here will be able to afford such a stone. Go to the capital, and there you will be able to sell it." The man was so poor that he could not afford to make the journey. He sold everything he had, and went from house to house, collecting funds for the trip. Finally he had enough to take him as far as the sea. He then went to board a ship, but he did not have any money. He went to the ship's captain and showed him the jewel. The captain immediately welcomed him aboard the ship with great honor, assuming he was a very trustworthy person. He gave the poor man a special first class cabin, and treated him like a wealthy person. The poor man's cabin had a view of the sea, and he sat there, constantly looking at the diamond and rejoicing. He was especially particular to do this during his meals, since eating in good spirits is highly beneficial for digestion. Then one day, he sat down to eat, with the diamond lying in front of him on the table where he could enjoy it. Sittting there he dozed off. Meanwhile, the mess boy came and cleared the table, shaking the tablecloth with it's crumbs and the diamond into the sea. When he woke up and realized what had happened, he almost went mad with grief. Besides, the captain was a ruthless man who would not hesitate to kill him for his fare. Having no other choice, he continued to act happy, as if nothing had happened. The captain would usually speak to him a few hours every day, and on this day, he put himself in good spirits, so that the captain was not aware that anything was wrong. The captain said to him, "I want to buy a large quantity of wheat and I will be able to sell it in London for a huge profit. But I am afraid that I will be accused of stealing from the king's treasury. Therefore, I will arrange for the wheat to be bought in your name. I will pay you well for your trouble." The poor man agreed. But as soon as they arrived in London the captain died. The entire shipload of wheat was in the poor man's name and it was worth many times as much as the diamond. Rabbi Nachman concluded, "The diamond did not belong to the poor man, and the proof is that he did not keep it. The wheat, however, did belong to him, and the proof is that he kept it. But he got what he deserved only because he remained happy.
We can learn how to be more positive in our inner monologues and be happier because of it. Just because we have a habit of mind of thinking negative thoughts, that doesn’t mean we cannot change that habit. In order for us to truly enjoy the great gifts we are granted, we can learn to wait before leaping to a negative judgment, and allow the Source of Life to hear our joyous, happy, hopeful thoughts. May we go right to work thinking more positive thoughts this year, and though it, cause delight to ourselves and our Creator, when we both listen to the loving, grateful, happy conversations within.
What are we to make of the statement, “for the design of his heart is bad from his youth,” also translated as “the devisings of man’s mind are evil from his youth.” The sages of the Midrash were quick to speak about the yetzer hara, the evil impulse, and the yetzer hatov, the good impulse. The unavoidable conclusion is that God knows us. God hears the negative mutterings in our minds and acknowledges what is, what truly exists: that to listen to the way we think isn’t always pretty. Nevertheless, God is merciful to us. The sage Nachmanides, who lived in 13th Century Spain, saw it slightly differently. He said that the phrase from his youth, means in his youth, in other words, Nachmanides maintains that there is learning that takes place, so that we grow out of plotting so much selfishness.
I think we could look at this with an additional perspective. We know that the thoughts that arise in us are often negative. We see life and interpret events, even events that occur to help us, negatively. We talk ourselves into depression. We allow our own often pessimistic thoughts to be the prevailing reality rather than the life, goodness, and blessings that have been given to us. Like the famous line from the comic strip Pogo, “we have met the enemy and he is us.” Rabbi Nachman of Breslau wrote so much on this topic. He knew how much misery we are capable of creating for ourselves by thoughts alone. Rabbi Nachman connects our negative thoughts to our opinions of ourselves. This is very psychologically wise and insightful. The principle of projection, that we project upon others what we lack or find unacceptable in ourselves, postulated by Freud in the 1890’s, is a modern day articulation of Rabbi Nachman’s insight.
In the Talmud there are two stories about a man named Gamtzu, which means, this too. The Talmud asks, “Why was he called…Gamzu? Because whatever befell him he would declare, Gamtzu This also is for the best.” Gamzu knew that maintaining an optimistic outlook always helped him in his life.
Rabbi Nachman used to tell this story: There was once a poor man who earned a living digging and selling clay. Once, while digging, he discovered a diamond which was obviously very valuable. Since he had no idea of its worth, he took it to an expert for appraisal. The expert answered, "No one here will be able to afford such a stone. Go to the capital, and there you will be able to sell it." The man was so poor that he could not afford to make the journey. He sold everything he had, and went from house to house, collecting funds for the trip. Finally he had enough to take him as far as the sea. He then went to board a ship, but he did not have any money. He went to the ship's captain and showed him the jewel. The captain immediately welcomed him aboard the ship with great honor, assuming he was a very trustworthy person. He gave the poor man a special first class cabin, and treated him like a wealthy person. The poor man's cabin had a view of the sea, and he sat there, constantly looking at the diamond and rejoicing. He was especially particular to do this during his meals, since eating in good spirits is highly beneficial for digestion. Then one day, he sat down to eat, with the diamond lying in front of him on the table where he could enjoy it. Sittting there he dozed off. Meanwhile, the mess boy came and cleared the table, shaking the tablecloth with it's crumbs and the diamond into the sea. When he woke up and realized what had happened, he almost went mad with grief. Besides, the captain was a ruthless man who would not hesitate to kill him for his fare. Having no other choice, he continued to act happy, as if nothing had happened. The captain would usually speak to him a few hours every day, and on this day, he put himself in good spirits, so that the captain was not aware that anything was wrong. The captain said to him, "I want to buy a large quantity of wheat and I will be able to sell it in London for a huge profit. But I am afraid that I will be accused of stealing from the king's treasury. Therefore, I will arrange for the wheat to be bought in your name. I will pay you well for your trouble." The poor man agreed. But as soon as they arrived in London the captain died. The entire shipload of wheat was in the poor man's name and it was worth many times as much as the diamond. Rabbi Nachman concluded, "The diamond did not belong to the poor man, and the proof is that he did not keep it. The wheat, however, did belong to him, and the proof is that he kept it. But he got what he deserved only because he remained happy.
We can learn how to be more positive in our inner monologues and be happier because of it. Just because we have a habit of mind of thinking negative thoughts, that doesn’t mean we cannot change that habit. In order for us to truly enjoy the great gifts we are granted, we can learn to wait before leaping to a negative judgment, and allow the Source of Life to hear our joyous, happy, hopeful thoughts. May we go right to work thinking more positive thoughts this year, and though it, cause delight to ourselves and our Creator, when we both listen to the loving, grateful, happy conversations within.
Friday, October 4, 2013
The Miracle
The miracle of seed and soil -
Add water, sun
And food for all
Comes froth from gritty
Hard crusted earth
Made lover soft by human toil
We gather in before last rain
Or frost destroys
This kiss, this gain -
Not only fruits
But we ourselves
In the Sukkah
Contemplating summer’s loss
To celebrate wonders unaccountable
Unnumbered
And then forgotten
Miracles of life’s existence
Life’s persistence
That we may not, right then, recall
Gratitude, thanks, and praise
Joyously abandoned
For the fullness, richness, of it all
Rabbi Jill Hausman, 2013
Add water, sun
And food for all
Comes froth from gritty
Hard crusted earth
Made lover soft by human toil
We gather in before last rain
Or frost destroys
This kiss, this gain -
Not only fruits
But we ourselves
In the Sukkah
Contemplating summer’s loss
To celebrate wonders unaccountable
Unnumbered
And then forgotten
Miracles of life’s existence
Life’s persistence
That we may not, right then, recall
Gratitude, thanks, and praise
Joyously abandoned
For the fullness, richness, of it all
Rabbi Jill Hausman, 2013
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Recalling the Sound of the Shofar
We gather on Rosh Hashanah, a day that the Torah describes as Zichron T’ruah, a remembrance of shofar blasts, a rest day, a day of Holy Assembly. On this day of remembrance, we are specifically asked to remember the shofar blasts we heard at Sinai. The passage in the book of Exodus is frightening, even spooky. It says: “There was thunder and lightning and a heavy cloud on the mountain, and the sound of the shofar was very powerful; the entire people that was in the camp shuddered. Moses brought the people forth from the camp toward God and they stood at the bottom of the mountain. All of Mt. Sinai was smoking because God had descended upon it in the fire. Its smoke ascended like the smoke of a furnace, and the entire mountain shuddered exceedingly. The sound of the shofar grew continually much stronger. Moses would speak, and God would respond to him with a voice.” Just after that, God spoke the 10 Commandments to the entire nation.
This is not the Rosh Hashanah we usually celebrate: the New Year, the beginning of a new season, a time to stir ourselves out of our summer pleasures, and return to a more active mode of working and living, a time of celebration: good food enjoyed with family and friends, a time of renewal. Of course, it’s also a time to begin the process of introspection, correcting our faults, leading up to Yom Kippur, but also a time for remembering our links to our families and to our tradition. The Torah asks something more from us – a response to the act of remembering. What did we learn at Sinai when we heard the sound of the shofar, getting louder and louder? What was aroused in us? Can we even put into words the content of that experience? Perhaps we can try.
There is hint after the giving of the 10 Commandments. At that time the people begged Moses to listen to God on their behalf, for the experience of God speaking to them was much too terrifying. Moses reassured them, that the frightening sounds and appearances were indeed to keep them away from sin and transgression. But surely the experience contained was much more that that. The sages say that a unification occurred that day – a special kind of connection that was unknown in human experience before this singular event. The Chassidic master, Rabbi Elimelech of Lisenzk said, “when a person draws God into the world, this is called unification.” We, through our partial physicality and our partial Divinity have the unique mission to live in both the physical and spiritual worlds, having the possibility of unifying earth and heaven.
Rabbi Zalman Shacter Shelomi in his book, Wrapped in a Holy Flame quotes Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach interpreting a Chassidic teaching from the 19th Century Rabbi Zakok HaKohen, who said, Some say the “world is getting less and less religious. On the contrary, the souls are becoming more and more refined.” Rabbi Carlebach taught that it looks like many people are breaking away from God…meaning formal religion, but on the inside, they are becoming increasingly holy.” This is happening in our society, to each of us, across religious lines, in a very broad way, as human consciousness evolves, through the death of one generation and the birth of the next. This is why although we have much to teach to the young, they also have much to teach to us. As we are changing, due to this evolution and also out of our own efforts to change ourselves from the inside, there is a great hunger for a reconnection to our spiritual selves; there is a compulsion not only to seek out spirituality, but also to express the expansion of our souls and the changed people we have already become. This is not to say that we have arrived at a state of holiness. Not at all! We are all still becoming. We are all, as I like to say, "Not Yet." But we are inwardly different from our parents, and our Judaism reflects that as well. This is one message of Rosh Hashanah: the possibility of living just a little more in the spiritual realm, a realm of great blessing beyond what we can even imagine. It is the realm of our potential.
In Judaism, the traditional view of humankind is that we are engaged in a struggle between the yetzer hatov, the impulse to do good, and the yetzer hara, the impulse to do the wrong thing. And it’s a useful view, up to a point. An additional perspective is that the struggle is always a battle between the old and the new: the people we have been and the people we can become, or will become. We see this also on a global scale. The Older understanding struggles against the Newer Understanding. The psalmist said, “you are children of the most high, all of you.” And we long for this special connection to the Divine. It can be achieved in many different ways, but most importantly by changing our inner dialogue. If we change ourselves from the inside, our lives will change and the world around us will change for the better. If we believe that the goodness of life, the goodness of the ultimate Divine can be and is expressed through us, then we can realize the spirituality that is our gift and birthright. We will live up to our potential. We will see great blessing from our growth, even miracles. We only have to make a commitment to the intention to express our holiness.
And this is not to suggest that we should go through life feeling spiritual. Rabbi Rami Shapiro, a teacher of meditation and mindfulness, has a great teaching about this. Once a woman said to him, I have no need of spiritual practices. I feel spiritual all the time…He said, the next time you have a spiritual feeling, take a cold shower. Then dry off and do something kind for someone else.”
Perhaps what we are called to remember today is who we really are and who we were created to be. The sage Ben Sira, quoted in the S’Fat Emet, said, there was one who found a glowing ember and blew on it, lighting up a flame. There was another who found a glowing ember and spat on it and the flame was extinguished. The S’fat Emet said, the ember is to be found everywhere, and I might add, in everyone. And the Apter Rebbe, Abraham Joshua Heschl of Apt said, there is only the ever present of God knowing and understanding God’s self. We are part of that self. We house the ember that can become a flame. I invite you to be inspired by this day, when we are asked to remember why we are here, why we heard the shofar and what is our mission of unification in this world. I invite you to be inspired by who your really are and by who you can be. Then shall it truly be a New Year.
This is not the Rosh Hashanah we usually celebrate: the New Year, the beginning of a new season, a time to stir ourselves out of our summer pleasures, and return to a more active mode of working and living, a time of celebration: good food enjoyed with family and friends, a time of renewal. Of course, it’s also a time to begin the process of introspection, correcting our faults, leading up to Yom Kippur, but also a time for remembering our links to our families and to our tradition. The Torah asks something more from us – a response to the act of remembering. What did we learn at Sinai when we heard the sound of the shofar, getting louder and louder? What was aroused in us? Can we even put into words the content of that experience? Perhaps we can try.
There is hint after the giving of the 10 Commandments. At that time the people begged Moses to listen to God on their behalf, for the experience of God speaking to them was much too terrifying. Moses reassured them, that the frightening sounds and appearances were indeed to keep them away from sin and transgression. But surely the experience contained was much more that that. The sages say that a unification occurred that day – a special kind of connection that was unknown in human experience before this singular event. The Chassidic master, Rabbi Elimelech of Lisenzk said, “when a person draws God into the world, this is called unification.” We, through our partial physicality and our partial Divinity have the unique mission to live in both the physical and spiritual worlds, having the possibility of unifying earth and heaven.
Rabbi Zalman Shacter Shelomi in his book, Wrapped in a Holy Flame quotes Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach interpreting a Chassidic teaching from the 19th Century Rabbi Zakok HaKohen, who said, Some say the “world is getting less and less religious. On the contrary, the souls are becoming more and more refined.” Rabbi Carlebach taught that it looks like many people are breaking away from God…meaning formal religion, but on the inside, they are becoming increasingly holy.” This is happening in our society, to each of us, across religious lines, in a very broad way, as human consciousness evolves, through the death of one generation and the birth of the next. This is why although we have much to teach to the young, they also have much to teach to us. As we are changing, due to this evolution and also out of our own efforts to change ourselves from the inside, there is a great hunger for a reconnection to our spiritual selves; there is a compulsion not only to seek out spirituality, but also to express the expansion of our souls and the changed people we have already become. This is not to say that we have arrived at a state of holiness. Not at all! We are all still becoming. We are all, as I like to say, "Not Yet." But we are inwardly different from our parents, and our Judaism reflects that as well. This is one message of Rosh Hashanah: the possibility of living just a little more in the spiritual realm, a realm of great blessing beyond what we can even imagine. It is the realm of our potential.
In Judaism, the traditional view of humankind is that we are engaged in a struggle between the yetzer hatov, the impulse to do good, and the yetzer hara, the impulse to do the wrong thing. And it’s a useful view, up to a point. An additional perspective is that the struggle is always a battle between the old and the new: the people we have been and the people we can become, or will become. We see this also on a global scale. The Older understanding struggles against the Newer Understanding. The psalmist said, “you are children of the most high, all of you.” And we long for this special connection to the Divine. It can be achieved in many different ways, but most importantly by changing our inner dialogue. If we change ourselves from the inside, our lives will change and the world around us will change for the better. If we believe that the goodness of life, the goodness of the ultimate Divine can be and is expressed through us, then we can realize the spirituality that is our gift and birthright. We will live up to our potential. We will see great blessing from our growth, even miracles. We only have to make a commitment to the intention to express our holiness.
And this is not to suggest that we should go through life feeling spiritual. Rabbi Rami Shapiro, a teacher of meditation and mindfulness, has a great teaching about this. Once a woman said to him, I have no need of spiritual practices. I feel spiritual all the time…He said, the next time you have a spiritual feeling, take a cold shower. Then dry off and do something kind for someone else.”
Perhaps what we are called to remember today is who we really are and who we were created to be. The sage Ben Sira, quoted in the S’Fat Emet, said, there was one who found a glowing ember and blew on it, lighting up a flame. There was another who found a glowing ember and spat on it and the flame was extinguished. The S’fat Emet said, the ember is to be found everywhere, and I might add, in everyone. And the Apter Rebbe, Abraham Joshua Heschl of Apt said, there is only the ever present of God knowing and understanding God’s self. We are part of that self. We house the ember that can become a flame. I invite you to be inspired by this day, when we are asked to remember why we are here, why we heard the shofar and what is our mission of unification in this world. I invite you to be inspired by who your really are and by who you can be. Then shall it truly be a New Year.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Entering Into Our Perfectability
This week we read two Torah portions: Acharei Mot, which means After the deaths, referring to the deaths of Aaron’s two sons, and Kedoshim, meaning holiness. Acharei Mont contains the atonement rituals for Yom Kippur, performed by the High Priest, laws that request that all meat to be eaten first be presented as an offering to God, and a list of forbidden marriages. Kedoshim, also known as the Holiness Code, is one of the most important sections to know about in the Torah. It begins, “You shall be holy, for I, the Eternal Your God am Holy.”
What follows is a guide for living a life of holiness, including a repetition of most of the Ten Commandments, but also laws that are impossible or nearly impossible to fulfill, such as: You shall not lie to one another. Don’t Gossip; do not seek revenge and do not bear a grudge; you shall not hate anyone in your heart; and the most impossible commandment in the Torah, Love your neighbor as yourself. Given that these laws are nearly impossible to live up to, how shall we regard them and the process of becoming holy? Clearly these laws are goals and not strict commandments like do not kill and do not steal. However they are also not merely an ideal or utopian vision.
Rabbi Tarfon taught in Pirkei Avot (2:21), It is not up to you to complete the work, but neither are you at liberty to desist from it.” In his book Paradigm Shift, Rabbi Zalman Schacter Shalomi spoke about God as a process, and the book God is a Verb by Rabbi David Cooper uses this understanding as a theme. We can regard holiness in this same light, not as a state of being, but as process. The willingness to enter into our own perfectability, then, is where holiness resides. And notice that most of the impossible or at least very difficult commandments have a large inner component: don’t lie, don’t run to gossip, don’t seek revenge or bear a grudge, don’t hate, love your neighbor as yourself.
We are being asked to turn the negative thoughts and impulses that we all have into positives: to always strive to speak the truth, to not talk about others, to love, to extend compassion and understanding concerning the mistakes of others; to regard others as extensions of ourselves and not separate from ourselves, to be generous and giving, to accept rather that reject and to extend ourselves rather than only protect ourselves.
Hearing these laws is especially meaningful in the period between Passover and Shavuot when we count the Omer and attempt to purify ourselves so that we can metaphorically be worthy to stand at Sinai once more and receive the Ten Commandments. Abraham Joshua Heschl wrote: “We have learned from Jewish History that if a person is not more than human, then he is less than human. Judaism is an attempt to prove that in order to be a person , you have to be more than a person; that in order to be a people we have to be more than a people. Israel was made to be a holy people “ (God in Search of Man).
This holiness code is spoken of in the Torah is in the plural: addressed to the entire Israelite community. We can look at Israel at 65 and see that attitudes are slowly evolving there, as this still very young country is finding its way toward balancing protection of its citizens and openness, taking care of its people and managing a strong economy, being respectful to each group and religious entity.
The commandment to be holy is unequivocal. God expects us not only to understand the laws but to sincerely try to fulfill them. An additional way to understand this commandment is as prophecy: I, God, am leading you to holiness, slowly, perhaps over a very long time, evolutionary time, but surely. And you shall become holy. The Kotzker Rebbe said, “You shall be holy,” means that we should always be ready to accept holiness, “for I am Holy,” means, for I am always ready to help you attain it. May we know that the Eternal is there, rooting for us to take upon ourselves the holiness that we can realize, and may we, with God’s help, make beautiful, loving, holy choices.
What follows is a guide for living a life of holiness, including a repetition of most of the Ten Commandments, but also laws that are impossible or nearly impossible to fulfill, such as: You shall not lie to one another. Don’t Gossip; do not seek revenge and do not bear a grudge; you shall not hate anyone in your heart; and the most impossible commandment in the Torah, Love your neighbor as yourself. Given that these laws are nearly impossible to live up to, how shall we regard them and the process of becoming holy? Clearly these laws are goals and not strict commandments like do not kill and do not steal. However they are also not merely an ideal or utopian vision.
Rabbi Tarfon taught in Pirkei Avot (2:21), It is not up to you to complete the work, but neither are you at liberty to desist from it.” In his book Paradigm Shift, Rabbi Zalman Schacter Shalomi spoke about God as a process, and the book God is a Verb by Rabbi David Cooper uses this understanding as a theme. We can regard holiness in this same light, not as a state of being, but as process. The willingness to enter into our own perfectability, then, is where holiness resides. And notice that most of the impossible or at least very difficult commandments have a large inner component: don’t lie, don’t run to gossip, don’t seek revenge or bear a grudge, don’t hate, love your neighbor as yourself.
We are being asked to turn the negative thoughts and impulses that we all have into positives: to always strive to speak the truth, to not talk about others, to love, to extend compassion and understanding concerning the mistakes of others; to regard others as extensions of ourselves and not separate from ourselves, to be generous and giving, to accept rather that reject and to extend ourselves rather than only protect ourselves.
Hearing these laws is especially meaningful in the period between Passover and Shavuot when we count the Omer and attempt to purify ourselves so that we can metaphorically be worthy to stand at Sinai once more and receive the Ten Commandments. Abraham Joshua Heschl wrote: “We have learned from Jewish History that if a person is not more than human, then he is less than human. Judaism is an attempt to prove that in order to be a person , you have to be more than a person; that in order to be a people we have to be more than a people. Israel was made to be a holy people “ (God in Search of Man).
This holiness code is spoken of in the Torah is in the plural: addressed to the entire Israelite community. We can look at Israel at 65 and see that attitudes are slowly evolving there, as this still very young country is finding its way toward balancing protection of its citizens and openness, taking care of its people and managing a strong economy, being respectful to each group and religious entity.
The commandment to be holy is unequivocal. God expects us not only to understand the laws but to sincerely try to fulfill them. An additional way to understand this commandment is as prophecy: I, God, am leading you to holiness, slowly, perhaps over a very long time, evolutionary time, but surely. And you shall become holy. The Kotzker Rebbe said, “You shall be holy,” means that we should always be ready to accept holiness, “for I am Holy,” means, for I am always ready to help you attain it. May we know that the Eternal is there, rooting for us to take upon ourselves the holiness that we can realize, and may we, with God’s help, make beautiful, loving, holy choices.
Friday, June 28, 2013
The Ultimate Mantra
This week’s Torah portion is Tzav, which means, command. God asked Moses to instruct the Priests about how to perform sacrifices. The fire on the altar was never to go out. In the mornings, the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, cleared the ashes. In this portion there are rules for the elevation, meal, sin, guilt, and feast-peace offerings. The rules tell what should be burned and who should eat the meat and flour offerings. Fat and blood were not to be eaten. Then, at the end of this portion, the priests were sanctified for seven days and consecrated to begin their service for God and the people.
Three times in the beginning of this portion it says, “The fire on the altar shall remain aflame on it.” Twice the Torah adds, “it shall not be extinguished.” This can also be translated as, the fire on the altar shall remain aflame in him, meaning in each person. The Baal Shem Tov said, “Our heart is the altar” (Soul of the Torah, P. 196). This section of Tzav is the passage that is quoted at the beginning of Sephardic and Chassidic services, to inspire those at prayer to greater efforts toward love and sincerity.
There is an interesting statement in this portion concerning the meal offering. Part of it is called a memorial portion for God. The rest was consumed by the Priests. We might think that God would desire the largest part of the offering, giving the priest a small salary or meal to eat. But the reverse is true. God only requests a very small portion, just enough for us to remember God: to remember to thank and bless the Holy One. The greater portion is for us, for those who work in God’s service and help one another. Also, the meal offering was to be unleavened. God is satisfied with the minimum, with the ordinary, the everyday. Not the grandest offering; not a cake or loaf risen to great heights, but the most basic, real, down to earth offering, our very selves.
Also, the letter mem in the word flame is written smaller than the other letters. Perhaps this encourages us not to be showy with our dedication to God’s service; and not to be intermittent in our spiritual passion: one minute with our hearts aflame, the next indifferent. Rather, we are asked to have a small steady flame burning in our hearts, one that should never go out. The S’Fat Emet relates this to the V’ahavta prayer, that we should speak of our love for the Divine Essence inwardly, “when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way, when you lie down and when you rise up.” In other word: always. It is our hearts and minds that is important to God.
The Zohar comments on a verse from Job (1:5), “And when the days of the feast would come to their end, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning, and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.” The Zohar (II:239b) says: “this… refers to the Community of Israel, and the term ha'olah (that which ascends), to the evil thought that rises up in our minds to turn us aside from the way of truth. The verse thus continues: ‘on its fire-wood upon the altar all night’, signifying that the evil thought has to be consumed in fire so as not to allow it to grow.”
Thus the Zohar speaks about the burnt offering as an atonement for evil thoughts. This is about the ultimate mantra: a stream of consciousness that consumes our negativity, our less than worthy inner chatter, replacing them with holy words and holy thoughts. The flame of love purifies us inwardly. This Shabbat is Shabbat HaGadol, the great Sabbath before Pesach; the Shabbat, as the Apter Rebbe taught, in which the hidden is about to be revealed. The S’fat Emet said, “In the soul of every person there lies a hidden point that is aflame with love of God, a fire that cannot be put out.” When that hidden flame burns quietly and steadily in our hearts, then our transformation will be revealed in the light shining on our faces and the faces of those whose lives we touch. May we nurture and feed the inner flame of our love with the fuel of our intention, the desire to help and be of service, the desire to love and be loved, and may we with Divine guidance and blessing be purified, sanctified, and transformed.
Three times in the beginning of this portion it says, “The fire on the altar shall remain aflame on it.” Twice the Torah adds, “it shall not be extinguished.” This can also be translated as, the fire on the altar shall remain aflame in him, meaning in each person. The Baal Shem Tov said, “Our heart is the altar” (Soul of the Torah, P. 196). This section of Tzav is the passage that is quoted at the beginning of Sephardic and Chassidic services, to inspire those at prayer to greater efforts toward love and sincerity.
There is an interesting statement in this portion concerning the meal offering. Part of it is called a memorial portion for God. The rest was consumed by the Priests. We might think that God would desire the largest part of the offering, giving the priest a small salary or meal to eat. But the reverse is true. God only requests a very small portion, just enough for us to remember God: to remember to thank and bless the Holy One. The greater portion is for us, for those who work in God’s service and help one another. Also, the meal offering was to be unleavened. God is satisfied with the minimum, with the ordinary, the everyday. Not the grandest offering; not a cake or loaf risen to great heights, but the most basic, real, down to earth offering, our very selves.
Also, the letter mem in the word flame is written smaller than the other letters. Perhaps this encourages us not to be showy with our dedication to God’s service; and not to be intermittent in our spiritual passion: one minute with our hearts aflame, the next indifferent. Rather, we are asked to have a small steady flame burning in our hearts, one that should never go out. The S’Fat Emet relates this to the V’ahavta prayer, that we should speak of our love for the Divine Essence inwardly, “when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way, when you lie down and when you rise up.” In other word: always. It is our hearts and minds that is important to God.
The Zohar comments on a verse from Job (1:5), “And when the days of the feast would come to their end, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning, and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.” The Zohar (II:239b) says: “this… refers to the Community of Israel, and the term ha'olah (that which ascends), to the evil thought that rises up in our minds to turn us aside from the way of truth. The verse thus continues: ‘on its fire-wood upon the altar all night’, signifying that the evil thought has to be consumed in fire so as not to allow it to grow.”
Thus the Zohar speaks about the burnt offering as an atonement for evil thoughts. This is about the ultimate mantra: a stream of consciousness that consumes our negativity, our less than worthy inner chatter, replacing them with holy words and holy thoughts. The flame of love purifies us inwardly. This Shabbat is Shabbat HaGadol, the great Sabbath before Pesach; the Shabbat, as the Apter Rebbe taught, in which the hidden is about to be revealed. The S’fat Emet said, “In the soul of every person there lies a hidden point that is aflame with love of God, a fire that cannot be put out.” When that hidden flame burns quietly and steadily in our hearts, then our transformation will be revealed in the light shining on our faces and the faces of those whose lives we touch. May we nurture and feed the inner flame of our love with the fuel of our intention, the desire to help and be of service, the desire to love and be loved, and may we with Divine guidance and blessing be purified, sanctified, and transformed.
Friday, June 14, 2013
The Vessels of God's Love
This week’s Torah portions are Vayakhel, which means and he assembled, and refers to Moses assembling the people, and Pekudei, which means reckonings. Moses called together the people to remind them that no work on the Tabernacle may be done on Shabbat. He tells them that they may being free will donations of all the materials needed to build the Tabernacle, to God; and that the work to build it will soon commence. The people brought more than enough and had to be asked to stop donating. The Tabernacle and its furniture is completed in this portion, overseen by Bezalel and Oholiab, who God endowed with the knowledge, insight, and skill to do it. The second portion contains an accounting of the free will offerings that were brought, the completion of the priests’ garments, the setting up of the Tabernacle. God’s approval was shown to the people by the miracle of the Cloud of God’s Presence filling the Tabernacle.
There is an interesting idea expressed three times in this portion. The text says, “Every person whose heart inspired him came and everyone whose spirit was willing brought the portion of God for the work of the Tent of Meeting.” Later it says, “All the women whose hearts inspired them with wisdom.” And the third example is: “Moses called for every wise hearted person, everyone whose heart inspired him to approach the work to do it.” The word, inspired, is not really the true translation, in the Hebrew. The Hebrew word, nasa, is literally carried or lifted. The verses really say, everyone whose heart carried them, all whose hearts lifted them came forward, to donate their possessions, their time, and their skill.
One thing this teaches us is to lead with our hearts. In other words, in our lives, let your heart do the heavy lifting. Judaism teaches that God guides the world with justice tempered by mercy. We pray that God’s mercy will prevail over strict justice. Our sages taught that the world could not survive without mercy. Rashi wrote, about the first verse in Genesis, that “the world could not last” with the attribute of strict judgment, so God “gave precedence to the Attribute of Mercy and joined it to the Attribute of strict judgment.” This applies to us slightly differently. We are not asked to judge others. God is the judge. In fact, the less we judge others, the better off we are. Rather, we are asked to use our reason to make determinations. But reason without compassion, logic without love would be the human version of justice without mercy.
Rebbe Aaron of Karlin said, “Wisdom of the mind alone without wisdom of the heart is worthless.” We need the teaching about leading with our hearts because God has structured the world in such a counter-intuitive way. The way the world truly works is not logical. The more we give, the more we receive. The more we keep, the less we will have. More for me means less for all. More for you means more for all. We don’t always understand it, but it appears to be true, and this is what the Torah tries to teach us. As I like to say: love is the spiritual currency of the world. Reality works on the same principle as love: the more we give the more we receive.
The S’fat Emet quotes the Song of Songs: “Vast floods cannot quench love nor rivers drown it” He comments,….”The love and attachment to God that Israel received at Mt. Sinai remain alive in them forever, even when sin prevents them from bringing this hidden love out into the open…By the act of giving they brought forth their own inner generosity, their longing, and attachment so that they were able to draw the Shechina into their midst.” Here the S’fat Emet equates a closed heart with wrongdoing and says that giving brings God’s presence into our midst.
There is an interesting detail in this portion. It says, “They brought to Moses additional free willed gifts every morning” (36:3). This tells us that letting go of our judgment and selfishness is a process, perhaps it is a life-long process, but one that brings contentment, well being, peace, blessing and great reward. The Apter Rebbe said, God’s love needs vessels, and he asks, where are the vessels for the blessings that God want to give us? The Apter answers, “The main resting place is in the human being.” May we be the vessels of God’s love. May we allow our hearts of carry us and to lift us, acting with compassion and generosity, being the givers who help each other and enrich all of life.
There is an interesting idea expressed three times in this portion. The text says, “Every person whose heart inspired him came and everyone whose spirit was willing brought the portion of God for the work of the Tent of Meeting.” Later it says, “All the women whose hearts inspired them with wisdom.” And the third example is: “Moses called for every wise hearted person, everyone whose heart inspired him to approach the work to do it.” The word, inspired, is not really the true translation, in the Hebrew. The Hebrew word, nasa, is literally carried or lifted. The verses really say, everyone whose heart carried them, all whose hearts lifted them came forward, to donate their possessions, their time, and their skill.
One thing this teaches us is to lead with our hearts. In other words, in our lives, let your heart do the heavy lifting. Judaism teaches that God guides the world with justice tempered by mercy. We pray that God’s mercy will prevail over strict justice. Our sages taught that the world could not survive without mercy. Rashi wrote, about the first verse in Genesis, that “the world could not last” with the attribute of strict judgment, so God “gave precedence to the Attribute of Mercy and joined it to the Attribute of strict judgment.” This applies to us slightly differently. We are not asked to judge others. God is the judge. In fact, the less we judge others, the better off we are. Rather, we are asked to use our reason to make determinations. But reason without compassion, logic without love would be the human version of justice without mercy.
Rebbe Aaron of Karlin said, “Wisdom of the mind alone without wisdom of the heart is worthless.” We need the teaching about leading with our hearts because God has structured the world in such a counter-intuitive way. The way the world truly works is not logical. The more we give, the more we receive. The more we keep, the less we will have. More for me means less for all. More for you means more for all. We don’t always understand it, but it appears to be true, and this is what the Torah tries to teach us. As I like to say: love is the spiritual currency of the world. Reality works on the same principle as love: the more we give the more we receive.
The S’fat Emet quotes the Song of Songs: “Vast floods cannot quench love nor rivers drown it” He comments,….”The love and attachment to God that Israel received at Mt. Sinai remain alive in them forever, even when sin prevents them from bringing this hidden love out into the open…By the act of giving they brought forth their own inner generosity, their longing, and attachment so that they were able to draw the Shechina into their midst.” Here the S’fat Emet equates a closed heart with wrongdoing and says that giving brings God’s presence into our midst.
There is an interesting detail in this portion. It says, “They brought to Moses additional free willed gifts every morning” (36:3). This tells us that letting go of our judgment and selfishness is a process, perhaps it is a life-long process, but one that brings contentment, well being, peace, blessing and great reward. The Apter Rebbe said, God’s love needs vessels, and he asks, where are the vessels for the blessings that God want to give us? The Apter answers, “The main resting place is in the human being.” May we be the vessels of God’s love. May we allow our hearts of carry us and to lift us, acting with compassion and generosity, being the givers who help each other and enrich all of life.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Finding Our Inner Nobility
This week’s Torah portion is Tetzaveh, which means, Command. It contains the instructions for the Eternal light, the Ner Tamid, to be continually kindled in the menorah at night. God describes the design for the Priests’ Vestments, for glory and splendor. The specifications for an incense altar are given, as is the commandment not to offer any alien incense.
The costume of the High Priest contained red, blue, and purple wool, fine white linen, and real gold thread. On the priest’s woven breastplate were 12 precious stones, one for each of the 12 Tribes of Israel. The priest also wore a turban and a golden plate on his forehead which said, Holy to God. Moses was to inaugurate the priests during a seven day consecration ceremony. First they had to immerse themselves in water. Our custom of the Mikveh comes from this. We know that washing or bathing: water purification ceremonies, must be as old as humanity itself. It is almost certain that Baptism, the Christian ritual comes originally from this commandment in Tetzaveh. Of course, all the people who originally engaged in baptism were Jews, and any river is known to be a kosher mikveh. Then the priests would be dressed in their vestments. Only the High priest had the golden and jeweled garments. The other priests were dressed more simply. The priests confessed their sins and offered three sacrifices for each of seven days: a sin offering sacrifice, an elevation offering sacrifice, to draw closer to God, and a fulfillment or perfection sacrifice, the last one of which was eaten.
If we think of Aaron, Moses’ brother: he was a slave like anyone else. The Israelites were an assemblage of slaves: a sea of nobodies who had been beaten: beaten down, degraded, and forced to suffer. How was even one of them to be transformed into a glorious priest, a leader of the people? The holy garments can be understood as serving to convince Aaron, as well as convincing the other priests, and ultimately convincing the people of their own innate holiness. Rabbi Elimelech wrote, “When God said, Let there be light, a new light was brought into existence…from there the light was drawn down here below, but that light still remains rooted up above. This is the case with all things. Each thing was created by God so that its root remains above and so everything that happens here below is a result of our actions, which shake the roots above, so that those things can be drawn down here below.” This quotation is an attempt to explain the mechanism by which we are attached to our Root: attached to God. Since we are of God, of God’s light, and of God’s holiness, theoretically we can attain amazingly great things. The Psalmist said, “You are Gods, all of you, children of the most High (Ps 82:6).” Our reality is so different from this.
Our inner nobility is not what we often experience. As slaves in the wilderness, the priests were even farther away from nobility than we are. The S’fat Emet wrote, “Moses was called a man of God. All of Israel were supposed to attain that state.” The only thing that stood in the way of Aaron and the priests becoming holy were their own thoughts and opinions about themselves. How did they become holy? Water purification, dressing in a fine costume that elevated them and made them feel special; also following a set of instructions, given by God, and confessing their sins, which helped them to try to do better. Probably meditating on their actions was part of the 7 day inauguration ceremony, since they were prohibited from leaving the sacred area for that whole period of time. These are the same things that can help us to feel holy: being elevated through our dress; confessing sins, performing deeds of generosity and kindness, deepening our relationship to our own divinity through prayer and meditation.
Perhaps then, there is very little that stands between us and holiness: our lack of self esteem and lack of belief in ourselves being the most important one. Like Dorothy and her companions in Baum’s Wizard of Oz, who learned that they possessed all they needed to achieve what they desired, we too have within us all of the perfection of our higher selves. May we be drawn to express our inner holiness in every human interaction we have, through knowing that nobility, goodness, and a loving, giving nature is who we really are.
The costume of the High Priest contained red, blue, and purple wool, fine white linen, and real gold thread. On the priest’s woven breastplate were 12 precious stones, one for each of the 12 Tribes of Israel. The priest also wore a turban and a golden plate on his forehead which said, Holy to God. Moses was to inaugurate the priests during a seven day consecration ceremony. First they had to immerse themselves in water. Our custom of the Mikveh comes from this. We know that washing or bathing: water purification ceremonies, must be as old as humanity itself. It is almost certain that Baptism, the Christian ritual comes originally from this commandment in Tetzaveh. Of course, all the people who originally engaged in baptism were Jews, and any river is known to be a kosher mikveh. Then the priests would be dressed in their vestments. Only the High priest had the golden and jeweled garments. The other priests were dressed more simply. The priests confessed their sins and offered three sacrifices for each of seven days: a sin offering sacrifice, an elevation offering sacrifice, to draw closer to God, and a fulfillment or perfection sacrifice, the last one of which was eaten.
If we think of Aaron, Moses’ brother: he was a slave like anyone else. The Israelites were an assemblage of slaves: a sea of nobodies who had been beaten: beaten down, degraded, and forced to suffer. How was even one of them to be transformed into a glorious priest, a leader of the people? The holy garments can be understood as serving to convince Aaron, as well as convincing the other priests, and ultimately convincing the people of their own innate holiness. Rabbi Elimelech wrote, “When God said, Let there be light, a new light was brought into existence…from there the light was drawn down here below, but that light still remains rooted up above. This is the case with all things. Each thing was created by God so that its root remains above and so everything that happens here below is a result of our actions, which shake the roots above, so that those things can be drawn down here below.” This quotation is an attempt to explain the mechanism by which we are attached to our Root: attached to God. Since we are of God, of God’s light, and of God’s holiness, theoretically we can attain amazingly great things. The Psalmist said, “You are Gods, all of you, children of the most High (Ps 82:6).” Our reality is so different from this.
Our inner nobility is not what we often experience. As slaves in the wilderness, the priests were even farther away from nobility than we are. The S’fat Emet wrote, “Moses was called a man of God. All of Israel were supposed to attain that state.” The only thing that stood in the way of Aaron and the priests becoming holy were their own thoughts and opinions about themselves. How did they become holy? Water purification, dressing in a fine costume that elevated them and made them feel special; also following a set of instructions, given by God, and confessing their sins, which helped them to try to do better. Probably meditating on their actions was part of the 7 day inauguration ceremony, since they were prohibited from leaving the sacred area for that whole period of time. These are the same things that can help us to feel holy: being elevated through our dress; confessing sins, performing deeds of generosity and kindness, deepening our relationship to our own divinity through prayer and meditation.
Perhaps then, there is very little that stands between us and holiness: our lack of self esteem and lack of belief in ourselves being the most important one. Like Dorothy and her companions in Baum’s Wizard of Oz, who learned that they possessed all they needed to achieve what they desired, we too have within us all of the perfection of our higher selves. May we be drawn to express our inner holiness in every human interaction we have, through knowing that nobility, goodness, and a loving, giving nature is who we really are.
Friday, May 24, 2013
From the Physical to the Spiritual
This week’s Torah portion is Terumah, which means a portion, gift, or contribution. God spoke to Moses and asked the Israelites to make a freewill offering of all the materials that would be needed to build a portable place of worship in the wilderness, as the text says, “so that I may dwell among them. (Ex. 25:8)” God then gives precise instructions for the design of the Tabernacle and its furniture, including a golden ark to house the tablets of the Ten Commandments, a golden menorah as tall as a person, a gold clad table that looked like a baker’s rack, to hold 12 special loaves of bread; and a copper altar for sacrifice, and many other items. We had been slaves in Egypt, possibly as long as 400 years.
We had built cities for the Pharaoh; but now, as pointed out by Rabbi Denise Eger in the Women’s Torah Commentary, we were being asked to embark on a different kind of building. As we constructed the Mishkan, the dwelling or the Sanctuary, we would be using the freewill gifts, ordinary building materials, and transmuting them into something holy. As Rabbi “Tarphon points out in the Talmud (Avot de Rabbi Natan 11, The Torah Revealed by AY Finkel), “You can see how highly regarded labor is, for God did not cause the Shechinah to rest upon Israel before they did work. Of course, we were building community as we were building the Tabernacle. We were building the traditions of Judaism itself, and we were taking the mundane that with our pure intentions and labor we were able to sanctify it. The Lubavitcher Rabbi, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneerson, wrote that, ”Man’s task is to incorporate material existence into God’s dwelling”. Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk wrote about the difference between God’s creative process our ours. He explained that God created something from nothing, which he expressed by the Kabbalistic terms Yesh, something, from Ayin, nothing. Our work is the reverse of God’s: we take yesh, the material and turn it into the spiritual. How is this done?
There is a famous commentary on Terumah by the sage Malbin, Rabbi Meir Lev ben Yeshiel Michael, from 19th Century Russia. Malbin wrote, “It says Let them make me a sanctuary that I may dwell among or in them. Each person is to build God a Tabernacle in their own heart, for God to dwell in.” We are meant to create holiness from both of these directions, from the material to the spiritual and also the spiritual to the material. Finding what some have called the God within is discovering our moral compass, our inner holiness, and a reverence for what we can create. Taking that inner guidance and applying it to the physical world completes the work. Rabbi Arthur Green has written, “God’s presence in this world depends upon the depth and sincerity of human desire.”
It is up to us to bring God’s Presence into our world. Only we can create the conditions for God to be manifested in the material world, in human life. We can work from within: from the inner to the outer, and from without: from the outer to the inner. Ideally we should work from both directions: realizing God’s Divinity within ourselves and making all our work, our words, and deeds, into a tabernacle of peace, justice and goodness. As we sang at the Song of the Sea, “This is my God and I will enshrine the Eternal. (Ex. 15:2)” When there is a Tabernacle in our hearts and in our outer lives, God can truly dwell among us.
We had built cities for the Pharaoh; but now, as pointed out by Rabbi Denise Eger in the Women’s Torah Commentary, we were being asked to embark on a different kind of building. As we constructed the Mishkan, the dwelling or the Sanctuary, we would be using the freewill gifts, ordinary building materials, and transmuting them into something holy. As Rabbi “Tarphon points out in the Talmud (Avot de Rabbi Natan 11, The Torah Revealed by AY Finkel), “You can see how highly regarded labor is, for God did not cause the Shechinah to rest upon Israel before they did work. Of course, we were building community as we were building the Tabernacle. We were building the traditions of Judaism itself, and we were taking the mundane that with our pure intentions and labor we were able to sanctify it. The Lubavitcher Rabbi, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneerson, wrote that, ”Man’s task is to incorporate material existence into God’s dwelling”. Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk wrote about the difference between God’s creative process our ours. He explained that God created something from nothing, which he expressed by the Kabbalistic terms Yesh, something, from Ayin, nothing. Our work is the reverse of God’s: we take yesh, the material and turn it into the spiritual. How is this done?
There is a famous commentary on Terumah by the sage Malbin, Rabbi Meir Lev ben Yeshiel Michael, from 19th Century Russia. Malbin wrote, “It says Let them make me a sanctuary that I may dwell among or in them. Each person is to build God a Tabernacle in their own heart, for God to dwell in.” We are meant to create holiness from both of these directions, from the material to the spiritual and also the spiritual to the material. Finding what some have called the God within is discovering our moral compass, our inner holiness, and a reverence for what we can create. Taking that inner guidance and applying it to the physical world completes the work. Rabbi Arthur Green has written, “God’s presence in this world depends upon the depth and sincerity of human desire.”
It is up to us to bring God’s Presence into our world. Only we can create the conditions for God to be manifested in the material world, in human life. We can work from within: from the inner to the outer, and from without: from the outer to the inner. Ideally we should work from both directions: realizing God’s Divinity within ourselves and making all our work, our words, and deeds, into a tabernacle of peace, justice and goodness. As we sang at the Song of the Sea, “This is my God and I will enshrine the Eternal. (Ex. 15:2)” When there is a Tabernacle in our hearts and in our outer lives, God can truly dwell among us.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Speaking of Holiness
This week’s Torah portion is Mishpatim, which means, ordinances, or laws, or judgments. It immediately follows the Ten Commandments but is very different in content, laying out laws for a just civil society. There are laws about slavery, negligence, the giving of charity, just compensation, and dispensing justice. Over 50 laws are given in this portion. Mishpatim ends with commandments to celebrate the holidays and a transporting vision given to Moses and the elders. Tonight I’d like to focus on the topic of speech. As you might expect, there are a number of commandments here that include prohibitions against saying things that are untrue. The Torah also prohibits agreeing with an untrue statement made by another person. One verse in the Artscroll translation reads, “Do not accept a false report.” The Etyz Chaim translation says, You must not carry false rumors. And continuing in the previous translation, the Torah says, Do not extend your hand with the wicked to be a venal witness. Do not be a follower of the majority for evil. Distance yourself from a false word. We can look at these laws in light of our speech.
Judaism has guidelines for speech that can help us to know what is expected of us. The lowest level required is not to say anything false. Of course there are times when we are permitted to say something we know is not true. We can say something untrue to avoid hurting someone’s feelings, and to avoid gossiping. The next highest level of speech is about Lashon Hara, literally, bad speech. The Talmud says: “What constitutes evil speech? … Whatsoever is said in the presence of the person concerned is not considered evil speech. …… He answered: I hold with R. Jose, for R. Jose said: I have never said a word and looked behind my back (Arachin 15b).” At this level we are asked not to say anything negative about a person even if it is true, to someone who has no need to know. Maimonides said, “Even if the statements are true, they bring about the destruction of the world (Mishneh Torah).” Our Sages said: "There are three sins for which retribution is exacted from a person in this world and, [for which] he is denied a portion in the world to come: idol worship, forbidden sexual relations, and murder. Lashon horah is equivalent to all of them." In addition, they said: "Lashon horah kills three [people], the one who speaks it, the one who listens to it, and the one about whom it is spoken. The one who listens to it [suffers] more than the one who speaks it.”
There is yet one more level of speech, the highest level. This is harder. We are asked not to say anything positive or negative about anyone to someone who has no need to know. This guideline is meant to circumscribe our conversations. It asks us to think before we speak about another: to say less than we may be used to saying, so that we do not get ourselves into trouble. This level of speech precludes most recreational speech. The Talmud also says, “What shall be one’s remedy so that he may not come to [utter] evil speech? If the person be a scholar, let him engage in the Torah, and if the person be ignorant, let him humble himself, as it is said: ‘But perverseness is a wound to the spirit.’” We are being led here into another commandment found in Mishpatim: “You shall not wrong a stranger and you shall not oppress him, for you were strangers in the Land of Egypt. You shall not persecute an orphan or widow.” These commandments seem to be not only about harming a person with less power in the society, but also about denigrating another. If we take these commandments symbolically, we can say that we are all strangers to each other. We all have a tendency to need to bolster our self esteem, but that we should not do it at the expense of others because in reality, we are part of them and they are part of us. And just because we may think, everyone is doing it, it’s an area in which most of us can find spiritual growth.
In this portion it says, “People of holiness shall you be to me.” And perhaps this is a fourth level of speech: that we use our words to create holiness. We can do so much good with our speech: bringing smiles to others, sharing our love, comforting each other, understanding one another’s needs, helping, and bringing kindness by sharing the gift of ourselves. Rabbi Gelberman wrote: “If we speak inwardly to ourselves of the joy of living of the oneness of people of our individual security and our emotional maturity our words will come forth with wisdom.” Our words reveal so much about the kind of people we are: about the quality of our intentions and our inner dialogue. If we are striving to keep our hearts open, our words will bring healing to the world. May speak truthfully and lovingly to others, speaking a little less perhaps than we have been accustomed to, but speaking with the knowledge that satisfying, rewarding relationships and also the world’s healing depends upon us.
Judaism has guidelines for speech that can help us to know what is expected of us. The lowest level required is not to say anything false. Of course there are times when we are permitted to say something we know is not true. We can say something untrue to avoid hurting someone’s feelings, and to avoid gossiping. The next highest level of speech is about Lashon Hara, literally, bad speech. The Talmud says: “What constitutes evil speech? … Whatsoever is said in the presence of the person concerned is not considered evil speech. …… He answered: I hold with R. Jose, for R. Jose said: I have never said a word and looked behind my back (Arachin 15b).” At this level we are asked not to say anything negative about a person even if it is true, to someone who has no need to know. Maimonides said, “Even if the statements are true, they bring about the destruction of the world (Mishneh Torah).” Our Sages said: "There are three sins for which retribution is exacted from a person in this world and, [for which] he is denied a portion in the world to come: idol worship, forbidden sexual relations, and murder. Lashon horah is equivalent to all of them." In addition, they said: "Lashon horah kills three [people], the one who speaks it, the one who listens to it, and the one about whom it is spoken. The one who listens to it [suffers] more than the one who speaks it.”
There is yet one more level of speech, the highest level. This is harder. We are asked not to say anything positive or negative about anyone to someone who has no need to know. This guideline is meant to circumscribe our conversations. It asks us to think before we speak about another: to say less than we may be used to saying, so that we do not get ourselves into trouble. This level of speech precludes most recreational speech. The Talmud also says, “What shall be one’s remedy so that he may not come to [utter] evil speech? If the person be a scholar, let him engage in the Torah, and if the person be ignorant, let him humble himself, as it is said: ‘But perverseness is a wound to the spirit.’” We are being led here into another commandment found in Mishpatim: “You shall not wrong a stranger and you shall not oppress him, for you were strangers in the Land of Egypt. You shall not persecute an orphan or widow.” These commandments seem to be not only about harming a person with less power in the society, but also about denigrating another. If we take these commandments symbolically, we can say that we are all strangers to each other. We all have a tendency to need to bolster our self esteem, but that we should not do it at the expense of others because in reality, we are part of them and they are part of us. And just because we may think, everyone is doing it, it’s an area in which most of us can find spiritual growth.
In this portion it says, “People of holiness shall you be to me.” And perhaps this is a fourth level of speech: that we use our words to create holiness. We can do so much good with our speech: bringing smiles to others, sharing our love, comforting each other, understanding one another’s needs, helping, and bringing kindness by sharing the gift of ourselves. Rabbi Gelberman wrote: “If we speak inwardly to ourselves of the joy of living of the oneness of people of our individual security and our emotional maturity our words will come forth with wisdom.” Our words reveal so much about the kind of people we are: about the quality of our intentions and our inner dialogue. If we are striving to keep our hearts open, our words will bring healing to the world. May speak truthfully and lovingly to others, speaking a little less perhaps than we have been accustomed to, but speaking with the knowledge that satisfying, rewarding relationships and also the world’s healing depends upon us.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Israel Grows Up
This week’s Torah portion is Yitro – named after Jethro, Moses’ Father in Law, who brings Moses’ wife Ziporah, and their two sons meet Moses and the Israelites at Mt. Sinai. Jethro advises Moses to establish a system of judges and courts. Moses takes his advice and Jethro departs. The people prepare themselves for the great and terrifying 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 which God speaks the Ten Commandments. Subsequently the people become afraid, asking Moses to speak with God and let them know what God requires of them.
In reading about these miraculous events in which God regularly speaks to Moses and then speaks to the entire Israelite people, some ask: Why is God so distant now? Why are there no prophets, no revelations? To find an answer to these questions, we can look at the Torah text itself. God says to Moses: “So shall you say to the… Children of Israel. You have seen what I did to Egypt and that I have borne you on the wings of eagles and brought you to me. And now, if you listen well to Me and observe 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 and a holy nation…The entire people responded together and said, everything that God has spoken we shall do.” (Ex. 18:3-6, 8). This passage begins with the metaphor of the eagle’s wings. Like a mother eagle, God flew us out of Egypt and set us down in a safe place. God personally saved, protected, and carried us. With our arrival at Mt. Sinai, our infancy came to an end.
Now there was to be a new relationship between us and God. What happens next is a kind of adolescence. There will at first be a primary intermediary: Moses. He provides the temporal leadership and also the moral leadership; and there will be Priests, who are religious intermediaries. But there will also be rules by which we can learn to become more independent: at first the Ten Commandments, and then laws of a civil society, which we will read in next week’s Torah portion. Gradually, God plans to wean us away from direct intervention and direct communication. There is a Chassidic story from the 18th Century that describes the change in our relationship: Someone once asked the Baal Shem Tov: Why does one who ordinarily feels close to God sometimes experience a sense of remoteness from the Divine Presence? The Baal Shem said, When a parent begins to teach a baby to walk the parent steadies the child with both hands …..Then bit by bit the parent moves away, holding out both arms, so that the child can take hesitant and later confident steps toward the parent. God may seem to move away from us sometimes, but perhaps only to help us grow by helping us to take steps toward God on our own.(adapted from Gates of Repentance)
The text from Yitro lays out a plan to take the place of prophecy and Direct communication. It is a plan by which we can outgrow our total dependence on our Divine Parent and gradually grow into religious adults. By allowing each person to hear the 10 Commandments, there was a leveling of access to God. Judaism was never a mystery religion in which the Priests had special, esoteric knowledge that the rest of the nation did not possess. The prophet Isaiah said, 45:19-20. I have not spoken in secret, in a dark place of the earth; I do not say to the seed of Jacob, Seek me in vain; I, the Eternal, speak righteousness, I declare things that are right. Assemble yourselves and come; draw near together…” The laws and commandments provide equal access to God and a means by which to draw near. The last Prophets in Judaism, Ezra and Nehemiah. lived more than 400 years before the common era. The priesthood was swept away in the year 70 CE by the Romans’ destruction of the Second Temple.
After the year 70, we began to be able to realize the last part of God’s plan: you shall be to me a kingdom of Priests, a holy nation,” which apparently God desired all along: a religion which needs no intermediaries; in which each person is her or his own priest. The program which led from our dependence in Egypt to a growing independence of choice and action is still proceeding today. One of the later Chassidic masters said, “people are becoming more religious on the inside.” We are moving in the direction of becoming a nation of priests and a holy nation. This is our task: to become more and more religiously independent, taking more of our own spiritual growth to the next level by growing in our spiritual awareness so that we can bind ourselves to the guidance and wisdom that is available to us, through our connection to the Divine Presence. We are never alone and without guidance. It’s just that our guidance comes in other forms: in events and subtle messages that help us to choose what is good. We are still walking the path away from God that circles right back to God: a part of the original plan. When we observe the 10 commandments we participate in our growth into more spiritual beings. We become more spiritual on the inside, given the dignity of being true partners with Divinity. May we embrace the progress that has been laid out for us, choosing independence and reaching out for the guidance that we are being sent.
In reading about these miraculous events in which God regularly speaks to Moses and then speaks to the entire Israelite people, some ask: Why is God so distant now? Why are there no prophets, no revelations? To find an answer to these questions, we can look at the Torah text itself. God says to Moses: “So shall you say to the… Children of Israel. You have seen what I did to Egypt and that I have borne you on the wings of eagles and brought you to me. And now, if you listen well to Me and observe 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 and a holy nation…The entire people responded together and said, everything that God has spoken we shall do.” (Ex. 18:3-6, 8). This passage begins with the metaphor of the eagle’s wings. Like a mother eagle, God flew us out of Egypt and set us down in a safe place. God personally saved, protected, and carried us. With our arrival at Mt. Sinai, our infancy came to an end.
Now there was to be a new relationship between us and God. What happens next is a kind of adolescence. There will at first be a primary intermediary: Moses. He provides the temporal leadership and also the moral leadership; and there will be Priests, who are religious intermediaries. But there will also be rules by which we can learn to become more independent: at first the Ten Commandments, and then laws of a civil society, which we will read in next week’s Torah portion. Gradually, God plans to wean us away from direct intervention and direct communication. There is a Chassidic story from the 18th Century that describes the change in our relationship: Someone once asked the Baal Shem Tov: Why does one who ordinarily feels close to God sometimes experience a sense of remoteness from the Divine Presence? The Baal Shem said, When a parent begins to teach a baby to walk the parent steadies the child with both hands …..Then bit by bit the parent moves away, holding out both arms, so that the child can take hesitant and later confident steps toward the parent. God may seem to move away from us sometimes, but perhaps only to help us grow by helping us to take steps toward God on our own.(adapted from Gates of Repentance)
The text from Yitro lays out a plan to take the place of prophecy and Direct communication. It is a plan by which we can outgrow our total dependence on our Divine Parent and gradually grow into religious adults. By allowing each person to hear the 10 Commandments, there was a leveling of access to God. Judaism was never a mystery religion in which the Priests had special, esoteric knowledge that the rest of the nation did not possess. The prophet Isaiah said, 45:19-20. I have not spoken in secret, in a dark place of the earth; I do not say to the seed of Jacob, Seek me in vain; I, the Eternal, speak righteousness, I declare things that are right. Assemble yourselves and come; draw near together…” The laws and commandments provide equal access to God and a means by which to draw near. The last Prophets in Judaism, Ezra and Nehemiah. lived more than 400 years before the common era. The priesthood was swept away in the year 70 CE by the Romans’ destruction of the Second Temple.
After the year 70, we began to be able to realize the last part of God’s plan: you shall be to me a kingdom of Priests, a holy nation,” which apparently God desired all along: a religion which needs no intermediaries; in which each person is her or his own priest. The program which led from our dependence in Egypt to a growing independence of choice and action is still proceeding today. One of the later Chassidic masters said, “people are becoming more religious on the inside.” We are moving in the direction of becoming a nation of priests and a holy nation. This is our task: to become more and more religiously independent, taking more of our own spiritual growth to the next level by growing in our spiritual awareness so that we can bind ourselves to the guidance and wisdom that is available to us, through our connection to the Divine Presence. We are never alone and without guidance. It’s just that our guidance comes in other forms: in events and subtle messages that help us to choose what is good. We are still walking the path away from God that circles right back to God: a part of the original plan. When we observe the 10 commandments we participate in our growth into more spiritual beings. We become more spiritual on the inside, given the dignity of being true partners with Divinity. May we embrace the progress that has been laid out for us, choosing independence and reaching out for the guidance that we are being sent.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Finding the Hidden Light
This week’s Torah portion is Va’eira, which means and He appeared. God speaks to Moses about the meaning of God’s name, which is a form of the verb To Be, meaning, Being, Existence, and: future, past, and present. God makes five promises to Moses, describing a marvelous redemption. God commands Moses to speak to Pharaoh and command Pharaoh regarding the Israelites’ release, saying that God will harden Pharaoh’s heart. Then the Portion describes the inter-action between Moses and Pharaoh through the first seven plagues. At the outset of this portion, God tells Moses that God will make Pharaoh’s heart strong, so that all the signs and wonders, what we call the ten plagues, will be manifested to show the Egyptians and the Israelites that there is one God, and not many.
God uses the word Aksheh for hardening of the heart. But then this word is not used again. The hardening of the heart is mentioned ten more times in this portion. Five times the word Chazak is used, the same word we say when we finish a book of the torah, Chazak. And five times the word caveyd is used. This word caveyd usually means heavy, which opens for us a psychological interpretation of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart. God first uses this word. The text says, Pharaoh made his heart heavy. Then it says that each time Pharaoh made his heart heavy, it became strong or strengthened. In our language, the opposite of heavy is light and the opposite of hard is soft.
We would all like to be lighthearted and softhearted rather than heavy hearted: not miserable but happy. This portion tells us that there is so much that we can do within ourselves to promote our happiness. I once read an article in the health section of the NY Times that cited research to the effect that each of us seems to have a set point of emotional equilibrium to which we usually return. Some of us are lighthearted and optimistic by nature. Some of us are worriers and more pessimistic. The events of our lives may nudge us into the other camp for a while, but then we tend to return to our habitual world view. The Torah seems to be telling us that Pharaoh inflicted his worrying and his unhappiness on himself and those around him.
We know this to be psychologically true. Usually people who are mean and difficult are unhappy. Pharaoh’s own inner darkness made others miserable and prevented him from seeing the light that was available to him. In Proverbs, King Solomon says, for the commandment is a lamp and the Torah is light. One meaning of this verse is that it is only through the guidance of the Torah that we can understand life. Pharaoh had Moses, Aaron, and the ten plagues to show him what was real and what was illusion.
We need Torah to be able to see reality clearly; life as it truly is, and not how it appears. The S’fat Emet wrote, “All the Patriarchs’ efforts were for the sake of the Children of Israel. The Patriarchs went into all the hidden places within nature, struggling until…they found the light of holiness…It is by sanctifying oneself in this worldly matters that you attain some bit of understanding.” This light, this power, this understanding is available to us. May we seek it with light and loving hearts, keeping our hearts open to each other, cultivating our happiness by finding the good in life, and may the joy of the Sabbath help us to find our own hidden light.
God uses the word Aksheh for hardening of the heart. But then this word is not used again. The hardening of the heart is mentioned ten more times in this portion. Five times the word Chazak is used, the same word we say when we finish a book of the torah, Chazak. And five times the word caveyd is used. This word caveyd usually means heavy, which opens for us a psychological interpretation of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart. God first uses this word. The text says, Pharaoh made his heart heavy. Then it says that each time Pharaoh made his heart heavy, it became strong or strengthened. In our language, the opposite of heavy is light and the opposite of hard is soft.
We would all like to be lighthearted and softhearted rather than heavy hearted: not miserable but happy. This portion tells us that there is so much that we can do within ourselves to promote our happiness. I once read an article in the health section of the NY Times that cited research to the effect that each of us seems to have a set point of emotional equilibrium to which we usually return. Some of us are lighthearted and optimistic by nature. Some of us are worriers and more pessimistic. The events of our lives may nudge us into the other camp for a while, but then we tend to return to our habitual world view. The Torah seems to be telling us that Pharaoh inflicted his worrying and his unhappiness on himself and those around him.
We know this to be psychologically true. Usually people who are mean and difficult are unhappy. Pharaoh’s own inner darkness made others miserable and prevented him from seeing the light that was available to him. In Proverbs, King Solomon says, for the commandment is a lamp and the Torah is light. One meaning of this verse is that it is only through the guidance of the Torah that we can understand life. Pharaoh had Moses, Aaron, and the ten plagues to show him what was real and what was illusion.
We need Torah to be able to see reality clearly; life as it truly is, and not how it appears. The S’fat Emet wrote, “All the Patriarchs’ efforts were for the sake of the Children of Israel. The Patriarchs went into all the hidden places within nature, struggling until…they found the light of holiness…It is by sanctifying oneself in this worldly matters that you attain some bit of understanding.” This light, this power, this understanding is available to us. May we seek it with light and loving hearts, keeping our hearts open to each other, cultivating our happiness by finding the good in life, and may the joy of the Sabbath help us to find our own hidden light.
Friday, March 22, 2013
Our Treaty With God
This week’s Torah portion, the first portion in the Book of Exodus, is Shemot, which means, Names. It is about the enslavement of the Israelites in Egypt, Pharaoh’s decree to drown every male Israelite baby, the birth of Moses, his exile in Midian; his call by God at the burning bush and his eventual return to Egypt to carry out God’s plan for him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt.
As Moses, his wife Zipporah, and their two sons are traveling to Egypt to confront Pharaoh, there is a puzzling section which reads: “When he was on the way at the inn, God encountered him, and sought to kill him. Then Zipporah took a sharp stone, and cut off the foreskin of her son, and touched it to his feet, and she said, ‘a bridegroom of blood are you to me.’ So He loosened his hold on him; then she said, A bridegroom of blood you are, because of the circumcision” (Ex. 4:24-26). It is puzzling because we don’t really know who God wanted to kill and what exactly happened: whether Moses became ill or had an accident. We do know that Moses was not eager to shoulder the task of returning to Egypt to secure the Israelites’ release.
He finds five excuses as he answers God, so as not to have to accept the challenge. First he is excessively and perhaps evasively humble; next he asks who he should say is sending him; then he maintains that the Israelites will not believe him; then he says he is not a good speaker; and finally he grudgingly gives in without much enthusiasm and possibly a little bit of attitude. No wonder God was displeased. Moses and Zipporah show radically different orientations toward doing the right thing. Whereas Moses is hesitant, Zipporah is decisive. The Talmud says that Zipporah was “distinguished by her deeds” (Moed Katan 16b). In fact, all of the six women in this portion are decisive. The midwives, Shifrah and Puah refuse to kill Israelite baby boys, in the first recorded act of civil disobedience. Yocheved, Moses’ mother, puts Moses in a basket among the reeds of the River. Pharaoh’s daughter saves Moses. Young Miriam courageously steps forward to help the Princess and her baby brother.
It is interesting that circumcision is the mechanism by which Moses’ life and mission are restored. The Talmud comments in another place, “Great is circumcision, for it counterbalances all the [other] precepts of the Torah, as it is written, For after the tenor of these words I have made a covenant with you and with Israel” (Nedarim 32a). The midrash also says, …she recognized the great protective power of circumcision, … She said: ‘How great is the power of circumcision! My husband was deserving of death for having been tardy in the performance of the command of circumcision, and but for that he would not have been saved.’ (Shemot Rabba V:8)
If we think about what circumcision is really all about, perhaps this section can become a little clearer. Circumcision is not about the act itself; it’s only the sign of the bond between God and each parent who circumcises a child. Later it is the sign of the bond between the child and God as well. When God commanded Abraham to become circumcised, it was about mutual acceptance and mutual responsibility. In another telling passage, after the giving of the Ten Commandments later in Exodus, the Torah says “And Moses took the blood, and sprinkled it on the people, and said, Behold the blood of the covenant, which the Lord has made with you concerning all these words”(Ex. 24: 8). Hence there is an ancient tradition of using blood to make a treaty; and circumcision is a treaty.
Zipporah evidently understood that she needed to reestablish the bond between God and Moses. She describes Moses as a bridegroom of blood: that the bond between God and Moses is as strong as their marriage bond. So what can we take away from this story? Perhaps it is telling us what not to do. Excessive humility or perhaps false humility is not helpful. Reluctance is a hindrance to right action. Laziness is a poor excuse to avoid making correct choices. If we are asked to help, we can’t turn away as if it’s not our problem. We are asked to be willing to serve, to do the right thing. Zipporah knew that after the circumcision she would have to share her husband with God and God’s mission. She would also be sharing him with all the Israelites. And perhaps this is another teaching: that every relationship is a triad. God is present in every human interaction, showing us what is right. God wanted Moses to say “Hineni”: here I am, ready to serve. As in a marriage, God wanted Moses’ mind and heart. This covenant includes us too and demands no less. God wants our minds and willing, open hearts. God needs our contributions and our labor in working for and helping each other. We are dignified by these tasks and finally, honored by God, in giving to us this sacred bond with Divinity.
As Moses, his wife Zipporah, and their two sons are traveling to Egypt to confront Pharaoh, there is a puzzling section which reads: “When he was on the way at the inn, God encountered him, and sought to kill him. Then Zipporah took a sharp stone, and cut off the foreskin of her son, and touched it to his feet, and she said, ‘a bridegroom of blood are you to me.’ So He loosened his hold on him; then she said, A bridegroom of blood you are, because of the circumcision” (Ex. 4:24-26). It is puzzling because we don’t really know who God wanted to kill and what exactly happened: whether Moses became ill or had an accident. We do know that Moses was not eager to shoulder the task of returning to Egypt to secure the Israelites’ release.
He finds five excuses as he answers God, so as not to have to accept the challenge. First he is excessively and perhaps evasively humble; next he asks who he should say is sending him; then he maintains that the Israelites will not believe him; then he says he is not a good speaker; and finally he grudgingly gives in without much enthusiasm and possibly a little bit of attitude. No wonder God was displeased. Moses and Zipporah show radically different orientations toward doing the right thing. Whereas Moses is hesitant, Zipporah is decisive. The Talmud says that Zipporah was “distinguished by her deeds” (Moed Katan 16b). In fact, all of the six women in this portion are decisive. The midwives, Shifrah and Puah refuse to kill Israelite baby boys, in the first recorded act of civil disobedience. Yocheved, Moses’ mother, puts Moses in a basket among the reeds of the River. Pharaoh’s daughter saves Moses. Young Miriam courageously steps forward to help the Princess and her baby brother.
It is interesting that circumcision is the mechanism by which Moses’ life and mission are restored. The Talmud comments in another place, “Great is circumcision, for it counterbalances all the [other] precepts of the Torah, as it is written, For after the tenor of these words I have made a covenant with you and with Israel” (Nedarim 32a). The midrash also says, …she recognized the great protective power of circumcision, … She said: ‘How great is the power of circumcision! My husband was deserving of death for having been tardy in the performance of the command of circumcision, and but for that he would not have been saved.’ (Shemot Rabba V:8)
If we think about what circumcision is really all about, perhaps this section can become a little clearer. Circumcision is not about the act itself; it’s only the sign of the bond between God and each parent who circumcises a child. Later it is the sign of the bond between the child and God as well. When God commanded Abraham to become circumcised, it was about mutual acceptance and mutual responsibility. In another telling passage, after the giving of the Ten Commandments later in Exodus, the Torah says “And Moses took the blood, and sprinkled it on the people, and said, Behold the blood of the covenant, which the Lord has made with you concerning all these words”(Ex. 24: 8). Hence there is an ancient tradition of using blood to make a treaty; and circumcision is a treaty.
Zipporah evidently understood that she needed to reestablish the bond between God and Moses. She describes Moses as a bridegroom of blood: that the bond between God and Moses is as strong as their marriage bond. So what can we take away from this story? Perhaps it is telling us what not to do. Excessive humility or perhaps false humility is not helpful. Reluctance is a hindrance to right action. Laziness is a poor excuse to avoid making correct choices. If we are asked to help, we can’t turn away as if it’s not our problem. We are asked to be willing to serve, to do the right thing. Zipporah knew that after the circumcision she would have to share her husband with God and God’s mission. She would also be sharing him with all the Israelites. And perhaps this is another teaching: that every relationship is a triad. God is present in every human interaction, showing us what is right. God wanted Moses to say “Hineni”: here I am, ready to serve. As in a marriage, God wanted Moses’ mind and heart. This covenant includes us too and demands no less. God wants our minds and willing, open hearts. God needs our contributions and our labor in working for and helping each other. We are dignified by these tasks and finally, honored by God, in giving to us this sacred bond with Divinity.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Our Family Tradition
This week’s Torah portion is Vayechi, which means, and he lived. Jacob is about to die. He calls his son Joseph, Viceroy of Egypt, to give him final instructions about Jacob’s burial in Canaan. He adopts Joseph’s sons, Menashe and Ephraim, as his own. Later, just before he passes away, he blesses each of his 12 sons and dies quietly and peacefully, a very good death. His sons bury him and then become worried that Joseph will seek revenge for their plans to sell him over 30 years ago. Joseph forgives them completely. Later, as Joseph dies, the book of Genesis comes to a close.
The section of this portion I’d like to consider tonight is toward the beginning, where Jacob has called Joseph to speak with him. The Torah reads: “Jacob said to Joseph, El Shaddai had appeared to me in Luz in the land of Canaan and God blessed me. God said to me, Behold, I will make you fruitful and numerous and I will make you a congregation of peoples, and I will give this land to your offspring after you as an eternal holding.”(Gen. 48:3-4) In the next verse, Jacob adopts Joseph’s sons. Why is Jacob speaking to Joseph about God appearing to him? What relevance does it have to the adoption?
To answer these questions, it’s interesting to speculate about the stories told in this family. God appeared to Abraham at least six times; to Sarah and to Rebecca at least once; to Isaac more than once; and to Jacob at least twice, and perhaps four times. There was a family tradition that a personal relationship between God and man could be a normal, or at least a periodic, occurrence. Were these experiences regularly spoken about within the family? I imagine they were. What might God have wanted the members of this very special family to internalize from these stories? When Jacob speaks to Joseph, perhaps one thing Jacob wanted Joseph to do was to carry forward the personal relationship between God and human beings into the next generation of his family.
This possibility of a close relationship with God is something that we need the Torah to inform us of. Without the Torah, this possibly might not be known. We might also ask: what kind of person might Jacob have been without God’s direct and personal intervention? He began life as a manipulative person, not content with what he had, but wanting what others possessed. He had a lack of integrity and ran away from conflicts. After God’s guidance: the dream of the ladder reaching to heaven, the 20 years spent learning patience and much else from Laban’s negative example, the wrestling match with the angel; Jacob emerges as someone with great personal integrity, who faces up to confrontations; one who forgives and is grateful for what he has, valuing all his personal relationships and having learned from his and his family‘s mistakes. His closeness to God was vital to his becoming the Patriarch we revere and from whom we are descended.
There are teachings here for us as well. Like Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca and Jacob; like Moses and all the many prophets, many more than 20, like the Baal Shem Tov and many of the Rebbes who came after him in the 18th & 19th Centuries – this personal relationship with God is available to each of us. And further: God cares about each of us as God cared about Jacob. Our development, like his, is being directed, so that we can continue to grow in goodness, as he did. Jacob says to Joseph earlier in the portion: “do kindness and truth, chesed v’emet, with me.” These are our two main subject areas: kindness and truth.
Our Divine Teacher, our Divine Parent cares about us passionately; directs our studies and desires us to be in this personal relationship with God, as Moses says in Deuteronomy, for our benefit. As the secular year draws to a close and the new year begins, may we strengthen this relationship with God by applying ourselves to the study of these subjects, knowing that Goodness is working with us, as Rabbi Gelberman once wrote, on our behalf, to bring about a better us, a better year, and a better world. This is what Jacob wanted Joseph to remember and to actualize. This is our task too: to bring forth and maintain our closeness to God, which is after all, not only our birthright, but our family tradition.
The section of this portion I’d like to consider tonight is toward the beginning, where Jacob has called Joseph to speak with him. The Torah reads: “Jacob said to Joseph, El Shaddai had appeared to me in Luz in the land of Canaan and God blessed me. God said to me, Behold, I will make you fruitful and numerous and I will make you a congregation of peoples, and I will give this land to your offspring after you as an eternal holding.”(Gen. 48:3-4) In the next verse, Jacob adopts Joseph’s sons. Why is Jacob speaking to Joseph about God appearing to him? What relevance does it have to the adoption?
To answer these questions, it’s interesting to speculate about the stories told in this family. God appeared to Abraham at least six times; to Sarah and to Rebecca at least once; to Isaac more than once; and to Jacob at least twice, and perhaps four times. There was a family tradition that a personal relationship between God and man could be a normal, or at least a periodic, occurrence. Were these experiences regularly spoken about within the family? I imagine they were. What might God have wanted the members of this very special family to internalize from these stories? When Jacob speaks to Joseph, perhaps one thing Jacob wanted Joseph to do was to carry forward the personal relationship between God and human beings into the next generation of his family.
This possibility of a close relationship with God is something that we need the Torah to inform us of. Without the Torah, this possibly might not be known. We might also ask: what kind of person might Jacob have been without God’s direct and personal intervention? He began life as a manipulative person, not content with what he had, but wanting what others possessed. He had a lack of integrity and ran away from conflicts. After God’s guidance: the dream of the ladder reaching to heaven, the 20 years spent learning patience and much else from Laban’s negative example, the wrestling match with the angel; Jacob emerges as someone with great personal integrity, who faces up to confrontations; one who forgives and is grateful for what he has, valuing all his personal relationships and having learned from his and his family‘s mistakes. His closeness to God was vital to his becoming the Patriarch we revere and from whom we are descended.
There are teachings here for us as well. Like Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca and Jacob; like Moses and all the many prophets, many more than 20, like the Baal Shem Tov and many of the Rebbes who came after him in the 18th & 19th Centuries – this personal relationship with God is available to each of us. And further: God cares about each of us as God cared about Jacob. Our development, like his, is being directed, so that we can continue to grow in goodness, as he did. Jacob says to Joseph earlier in the portion: “do kindness and truth, chesed v’emet, with me.” These are our two main subject areas: kindness and truth.
Our Divine Teacher, our Divine Parent cares about us passionately; directs our studies and desires us to be in this personal relationship with God, as Moses says in Deuteronomy, for our benefit. As the secular year draws to a close and the new year begins, may we strengthen this relationship with God by applying ourselves to the study of these subjects, knowing that Goodness is working with us, as Rabbi Gelberman once wrote, on our behalf, to bring about a better us, a better year, and a better world. This is what Jacob wanted Joseph to remember and to actualize. This is our task too: to bring forth and maintain our closeness to God, which is after all, not only our birthright, but our family tradition.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Drawing Down the Light
This week’s Torah portion is Vayigash, which means, “and he approached.” Joseph, viceroy of Egypt, had framed Benjamin, his youngest brother, in order to take him into custody and find out whether his brothers would abandon Benjamin, as they once abandoned him. As this portion opens, Judah, the fourth brother, who had promised their Father, Jacob, to return Benjamin unharmed, comes forward to plead for Benjamin’s freedom. When Joseph learns that his brothers love and support Benjamin, Joseph reveals his identity to them and forgives them. He then arranges to bring his father and his brothers’ families to Egypt so that they will be sustained during the continuing famine.
Judah’s speech to the Viceroy Joseph is said to be one of the most eloquent orations in the Torah. Judah begins by recounting the story of how they came to be in Egypt, standing before Joseph. Judah uses the word, father, 14 times in 17 verses, to arouse his pity. Joseph appears to be unmoved through much of the speech. Judah tells Joseph that their father would be devastated by the loss of Benjamin, the youngest son and Joseph’s only full brother, the only brother who was not a part of putting Joseph into the pit and planning to sell him. It is not until Judah pleads with Joseph to imprison him in Benjamin’s place, saying “Now therefore, I beg you, let your servant remain instead of the lad to be a slave to my lord; and let the lad go up with his brothers. For how shall I go up to my father, if the lad is not with me, lest I see the evil that shall befall my father.”(Gen 44: 33-4). Only then Joseph cries out and reveals himself to his brothers.
It was Judah’s compassion for his father and his being willing to suffer for the well being of his father and brother that moved Joseph so greatly. Judah’s act of nobility, his compassion, showed how much he had changed. In the book, Messengers of God, Elie Wiesel says: “One is not born a tzaddik. One must strive to become one, and having become a tzaddik, one must strive to remain one (P. 67-8). Judah had changed so greatly from the young man whose idea it was to sell Joseph. After experiencing the death of his wife and two eldest sons he almost had his daughter-in-Law, the pregnant Tamar burned, she who carried his own two additional children. His confession that he had not kept his promise to Tamar; his grief at his enormous losses, changed him into the man who stood before Joseph, able to sacrifice himself for his father and brother. Joseph, too, had changed so greatly, from the callous teenager who tattled on his big brothers, to the person who needs and wants his family and is willing to forgive them completely.
The Midrash quotes Proverbs, “Counsel is like deep water in the human heart. The wise one draws it forth (20:5).” The S’fat Emet speaks of drawing water as drawing new light from the heavenly root. This is our task: in uncertain times there is a deep well of wisdom that is available to us, working on our behalf if we, like Judah and Joseph, are able to draw the light from its heavenly root. Judah says in his speech, “If your youngest brother does not come down with you, you will not see my face again (43:5).” The Berdichever Rebbe interpreted this as: if you are not concerned for your brother, (understood as our neighbor), all our brothers and sisters, all those who we can have compassion for, we will not see God’s face.
There is a lovely story from the Talmud about a tzaddik: R. Abba was one day sitting at the gate of Lydda when he saw a man come and seat himself on a ledge overhanging the ground. Being weary from traveling, he fell asleep. R. Abba saw a snake glide up towards the man, but, before it reached him, a branch fell from a tree and killed it. The man then woke up, and catching sight of the snake in front of him stood up; and no sooner had he done so than the ledge gave way, and crashed into the hollow beneath it. R. Abba then approached him and said: ‘Tell me, what have you done that God should perform two miracles for you?’ The man replied: ‘Never did anyone do an injury to me but that I made peace with him and forgave him. Moreover, if I could not make peace with him, I did not retire to rest before I forgave him together with all those who vexed me; nor was I at any time concerned about the evil the man did me; nay more, from that day onward I exerted myself to show kindness to such a man.’ Tears came to R. Abba’s eyes and he said: ‘This man's deeds excel even those of Joseph; for Joseph showed forbearance towards his own brethren, upon whom it was natural for him to have compassion; but this man did more, and it was thus befitting that the Holy One should work for him one miracle upon another (Zohar I:201b).
Our caring, our compassion for each other is priceless in the Universe, priceless to God. Our forgiveness is crucial to our growth and our own being forgiven. May we strive to find that center of caring and compassion in ourselves that draws down the light and love and compassion of the world. May we become greater than we are, more blessed than we can imagine.
Judah’s speech to the Viceroy Joseph is said to be one of the most eloquent orations in the Torah. Judah begins by recounting the story of how they came to be in Egypt, standing before Joseph. Judah uses the word, father, 14 times in 17 verses, to arouse his pity. Joseph appears to be unmoved through much of the speech. Judah tells Joseph that their father would be devastated by the loss of Benjamin, the youngest son and Joseph’s only full brother, the only brother who was not a part of putting Joseph into the pit and planning to sell him. It is not until Judah pleads with Joseph to imprison him in Benjamin’s place, saying “Now therefore, I beg you, let your servant remain instead of the lad to be a slave to my lord; and let the lad go up with his brothers. For how shall I go up to my father, if the lad is not with me, lest I see the evil that shall befall my father.”(Gen 44: 33-4). Only then Joseph cries out and reveals himself to his brothers.
It was Judah’s compassion for his father and his being willing to suffer for the well being of his father and brother that moved Joseph so greatly. Judah’s act of nobility, his compassion, showed how much he had changed. In the book, Messengers of God, Elie Wiesel says: “One is not born a tzaddik. One must strive to become one, and having become a tzaddik, one must strive to remain one (P. 67-8). Judah had changed so greatly from the young man whose idea it was to sell Joseph. After experiencing the death of his wife and two eldest sons he almost had his daughter-in-Law, the pregnant Tamar burned, she who carried his own two additional children. His confession that he had not kept his promise to Tamar; his grief at his enormous losses, changed him into the man who stood before Joseph, able to sacrifice himself for his father and brother. Joseph, too, had changed so greatly, from the callous teenager who tattled on his big brothers, to the person who needs and wants his family and is willing to forgive them completely.
The Midrash quotes Proverbs, “Counsel is like deep water in the human heart. The wise one draws it forth (20:5).” The S’fat Emet speaks of drawing water as drawing new light from the heavenly root. This is our task: in uncertain times there is a deep well of wisdom that is available to us, working on our behalf if we, like Judah and Joseph, are able to draw the light from its heavenly root. Judah says in his speech, “If your youngest brother does not come down with you, you will not see my face again (43:5).” The Berdichever Rebbe interpreted this as: if you are not concerned for your brother, (understood as our neighbor), all our brothers and sisters, all those who we can have compassion for, we will not see God’s face.
There is a lovely story from the Talmud about a tzaddik: R. Abba was one day sitting at the gate of Lydda when he saw a man come and seat himself on a ledge overhanging the ground. Being weary from traveling, he fell asleep. R. Abba saw a snake glide up towards the man, but, before it reached him, a branch fell from a tree and killed it. The man then woke up, and catching sight of the snake in front of him stood up; and no sooner had he done so than the ledge gave way, and crashed into the hollow beneath it. R. Abba then approached him and said: ‘Tell me, what have you done that God should perform two miracles for you?’ The man replied: ‘Never did anyone do an injury to me but that I made peace with him and forgave him. Moreover, if I could not make peace with him, I did not retire to rest before I forgave him together with all those who vexed me; nor was I at any time concerned about the evil the man did me; nay more, from that day onward I exerted myself to show kindness to such a man.’ Tears came to R. Abba’s eyes and he said: ‘This man's deeds excel even those of Joseph; for Joseph showed forbearance towards his own brethren, upon whom it was natural for him to have compassion; but this man did more, and it was thus befitting that the Holy One should work for him one miracle upon another (Zohar I:201b).
Our caring, our compassion for each other is priceless in the Universe, priceless to God. Our forgiveness is crucial to our growth and our own being forgiven. May we strive to find that center of caring and compassion in ourselves that draws down the light and love and compassion of the world. May we become greater than we are, more blessed than we can imagine.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Seeing the Divine
This week’s Torah portion is Vayishlach, which means and he sent. Jacob, with his wives and children, is very relieved to have left his father-in-Law Laban, after having worked for Laban 20 years. Jacob is on his way back to Canaan, only to have to confront his twin brother Esau, who he wronged all those years ago. He sends messengers ahead, who report back that Esau is on his way to meet him with a force of 400 men. Afraid of a battle, he divides his camp in two, prays to God for rescue, and sends Esau presents. The night before the confrontation, the text tells us, “Jacob was left alone and a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn.” Neither one could overpower the other. Jacob receives a wound: the temporary dislocation of his hip; and a name change: Israel, one who wrestles with God, as the man says, “for you have striven with the Divine and with man and have overcome.” Jacob asks for and receives a blessing, after which he meets Esau in peace, and is able to say to him, “If I have now found favor in your eyes, then accept my tribute from me inasmuch as I have seen your face, which is like seeing the face of a Divine being, and you were appeased by me.” Jacob leaves and subsequently, arrives, we are told, “intact” in Canaan.
This encounter raises many questions. Who was the man? Who won the match? What was won and what was lost? One thing seems certain: that Jacob was sent this contest just at the time he needed it. It was the first time in his life he could not trick his way out of a difficult situation nor could he run away. His struggle then, was with his own integrity: an engagement to find his true self. One of my favorite sages, called the S’fat Emet wrote, “God’s glory can’t be revealed in this world so long as Amalek exists (P. 49).” The Amalekites attacked us just as we were coming out of Egypt and victimized the weak, the ill, the very young, and the very old. Amalek represents causeless hatred, cowardice, and all the qualities within us that are less worthy: what I call, those corners of our personality we don’t bother to sweep, and that Carl Jung referred to as the Shadow.
Perhaps the man Jacob wrestled with was an angel who represented his Shadow – his inner crummy-ness. We are told by the text that he overcame. Just by engaging himself and being willing to grow, he won. Although he experienced the pain of his dislocated hip, he requested and received a blessing. Rashi says it was a blessing he earned and not one he stole, it being received not through treachery and deceit, but through authority. Because he was willing to stay in the conflict and do the inner work to find his pure self, he overcame; and the dawn revealed to him the Face of the Divine.
But that’s only half of the story. Rabbi Menachem Mendel, the Lubavitcher Rebbe said, “Everyone is a shaliach, an agent of God...Our mission includes the empowerment of others.” The proof of Jacob’s growth was not only his bringing himself to meet Esau, but his ability to see the Divine in Esau’s face: seeing God in his worst enemy, who was also his brother. After his struggles brought him the inner peace he sought, he was able to bring that harmony and contentment to his relationship with Esau. His struggles were private. They were real, as evidenced by the wound. His pain was hidden, but the peace he achieved was revealed: in his enhanced ability to give and receive love.
This is the model of growth done correctly: by engaging ourselves, which is always an equal contest, we can bring the inner Divinity we share to others. Once we find the true, Divine self, our radiance can be seen reflected in the faces of those we see. We know we cannot change others: we can only change ourselves. When we do, our relationships with others are transformed. May the holy work we undertake lead us on a journey to behold our own goodness. May we encounter God’s Divinity within, and may we share that great blessing with everyone we meet.
This encounter raises many questions. Who was the man? Who won the match? What was won and what was lost? One thing seems certain: that Jacob was sent this contest just at the time he needed it. It was the first time in his life he could not trick his way out of a difficult situation nor could he run away. His struggle then, was with his own integrity: an engagement to find his true self. One of my favorite sages, called the S’fat Emet wrote, “God’s glory can’t be revealed in this world so long as Amalek exists (P. 49).” The Amalekites attacked us just as we were coming out of Egypt and victimized the weak, the ill, the very young, and the very old. Amalek represents causeless hatred, cowardice, and all the qualities within us that are less worthy: what I call, those corners of our personality we don’t bother to sweep, and that Carl Jung referred to as the Shadow.
Perhaps the man Jacob wrestled with was an angel who represented his Shadow – his inner crummy-ness. We are told by the text that he overcame. Just by engaging himself and being willing to grow, he won. Although he experienced the pain of his dislocated hip, he requested and received a blessing. Rashi says it was a blessing he earned and not one he stole, it being received not through treachery and deceit, but through authority. Because he was willing to stay in the conflict and do the inner work to find his pure self, he overcame; and the dawn revealed to him the Face of the Divine.
But that’s only half of the story. Rabbi Menachem Mendel, the Lubavitcher Rebbe said, “Everyone is a shaliach, an agent of God...Our mission includes the empowerment of others.” The proof of Jacob’s growth was not only his bringing himself to meet Esau, but his ability to see the Divine in Esau’s face: seeing God in his worst enemy, who was also his brother. After his struggles brought him the inner peace he sought, he was able to bring that harmony and contentment to his relationship with Esau. His struggles were private. They were real, as evidenced by the wound. His pain was hidden, but the peace he achieved was revealed: in his enhanced ability to give and receive love.
This is the model of growth done correctly: by engaging ourselves, which is always an equal contest, we can bring the inner Divinity we share to others. Once we find the true, Divine self, our radiance can be seen reflected in the faces of those we see. We know we cannot change others: we can only change ourselves. When we do, our relationships with others are transformed. May the holy work we undertake lead us on a journey to behold our own goodness. May we encounter God’s Divinity within, and may we share that great blessing with everyone we meet.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Two Models of Co-existence
This week we read the torah portion Vayetze, and he went. Jacob has just stolen the blessing from his brother, Esau. He leaves, being sent away by his mother, to find a wife among her family in Mesopotamia. He arrives, falls in love with the younger daughter, Rachel, but the trickster is himself tricked into marrying the older daughter, Leah, fist, and only after a week with Leah, can he also marry Rachel. He serves their father Laban seven years for each daughter, has twelve children with his wives and their two handmaids, and then serves six more years to build up his own wealth. As Jacob becomes richer his relationship with Laban and Laban’s sons deteriorates and he runs away from a conflict for the second time, departing to return to his native land. Laban pursues him and they make a pact not to come after or be at war with each other.
In light of all the destruction that has happened in Gaza and Israel we have to ask, what happens when you can’t run away? What has to happen when the world becomes so small that you have to stay were you are and you can’t leave your problems behind? This Torah portion actually gives us some guidance. First, let’s admit that wrongs were committed on both sides: neither Jacob nor Laban are totally innocent parties. They make a lasting peace, but are not forced to work out their differences. It’s important to remember that they are family, part of each other.
There is another great wrong in this portion: that which was done to Leah and Rachel. Neither of them can leave either. They are tied to the same man, or symbolically, can represent two peoples attached to the same land. Repeatedly we see the sisters’ unhappiness as each tries to capture the larger share of their husband’s love. Only once in the portion do their jealousies overflow onto the page and flare at each other, when Leah says, “was your taking my husband insignificant, and to take even my son’s mandrakes?” The sisters work it out with a compromise. Rachel offers that Jacob will sleep with Leah that night. This has to be the modern model for conflict resolution. Yes, great injustices have been done to both the Israeli’s and the Palestinians – by outside forces and by the players themselves. Neither people is leaving. Neither people can leave. On a spiritual level the reality is that we are brothers and we are sisters. The aggressive territorial models of the past won’t work in our much smaller and more populated world.
Were Leah and Rachel happy being married to the same man? We know they weren’t But they didn’t try to kill each other. They knew they were sisters, forced to live together. It wasn’t just; it wasn’t pleasant; it wasn’t easy; but they made it work, and they were blessed by having many children who all got along well together. The old aggressive, territorial model won’t work anymore. A country has the obligation of defending itself, its rights, and of protecting its citizens, but no country has the right to destroy another country. It is only when we realize that there is only one soul, one life, and one earth to share, that we will be able to live harmoniously. May that time come soon, and in the meantime, may be allow each other to live, if not happily, at least to coexist peacefully.
In light of all the destruction that has happened in Gaza and Israel we have to ask, what happens when you can’t run away? What has to happen when the world becomes so small that you have to stay were you are and you can’t leave your problems behind? This Torah portion actually gives us some guidance. First, let’s admit that wrongs were committed on both sides: neither Jacob nor Laban are totally innocent parties. They make a lasting peace, but are not forced to work out their differences. It’s important to remember that they are family, part of each other.
There is another great wrong in this portion: that which was done to Leah and Rachel. Neither of them can leave either. They are tied to the same man, or symbolically, can represent two peoples attached to the same land. Repeatedly we see the sisters’ unhappiness as each tries to capture the larger share of their husband’s love. Only once in the portion do their jealousies overflow onto the page and flare at each other, when Leah says, “was your taking my husband insignificant, and to take even my son’s mandrakes?” The sisters work it out with a compromise. Rachel offers that Jacob will sleep with Leah that night. This has to be the modern model for conflict resolution. Yes, great injustices have been done to both the Israeli’s and the Palestinians – by outside forces and by the players themselves. Neither people is leaving. Neither people can leave. On a spiritual level the reality is that we are brothers and we are sisters. The aggressive territorial models of the past won’t work in our much smaller and more populated world.
Were Leah and Rachel happy being married to the same man? We know they weren’t But they didn’t try to kill each other. They knew they were sisters, forced to live together. It wasn’t just; it wasn’t pleasant; it wasn’t easy; but they made it work, and they were blessed by having many children who all got along well together. The old aggressive, territorial model won’t work anymore. A country has the obligation of defending itself, its rights, and of protecting its citizens, but no country has the right to destroy another country. It is only when we realize that there is only one soul, one life, and one earth to share, that we will be able to live harmoniously. May that time come soon, and in the meantime, may be allow each other to live, if not happily, at least to coexist peacefully.
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