The Divine Energy of Healing

This week’s Torah portions are Tazria and Metzora. They speak about skin diseases, discharges, and ritual purification. Metzora means one who has a skin disease, and this portion begins by describing the process by which someone who has had such an infection is purified for re-entry into the community. The person who is healed was to be examined by the priest. Then the person was to bring two birds, red wool, a bunch of hyssop, which is from a small bush, and cedar wood. He was to shave his body, wash body and clothes and then re-enter the camp. After seven days of dwelling outside his tent he was to shave and wash again and then he was declared to be pure. On the next day there were more offerings: a sin, guilt, and elevation offering to be placed before God by the Priest. The sin and guilt sacrifices were for atonement and the elevation offering was to elevate the person so that he could draw closer to God’s Presence. The blood of the guilt offering was put on the right ear, thumb, and toe of the person atoning; and oil, which was part of the offering, was sprinkled before God seven times, and was also put on the ear, thumb, and toe of the penitent and then on his head as well.
In reading this ceremony, the similarity between the purification of the Metzora and the ceremony for the consecration of the priests is inescapable. The priests underwent a seven day term of isolation in which they dwelt outside their tents, in front of the tabernacle. It was followed by a ceremony of atonement offerings, a ritual of blood applied to the ear, thumb, and toe, and the oil of anointment being put on their heads. This similarity between the consecration of the priests and the purification of a penitent seems strange. Why should they be so similar and what might this be telling us? The similarity of the two rituals points to the conclusion that the priest and the penitent were learning from each other. Skin diseases are the biblical result of slander: Lashon Hara, or evil speech. The Zohar also says that: “just as a person is punished for uttering an evil word, so is there punishment for not uttering a good word when there was the opportunity, because that speaking spirit is harmed which was prepared to speak both above and below in holiness.” In terms of Divine Justice, this can be expressed as: those who separate, through speech, will themselves be separated, through absence. Speaking ill of someone, Rashi taught, is the result of haughtiness. The person who had a skin disease was quarantined outside the camp to heal, but also to think about what he might have done to deserve such a disease. The Kohen, too, by being responsible for the purification ritual, must have been constantly reminded not to engage in slander and gossip and not to allow his position to lead him to haughtiness. We know that haughtiness is really its opposite: a lack of the feeling of self worth rather than an excess of confidence. It is only those who are insecure who need to talk about others in an effort to raise themselves by seeming to lower other people. The Kohen needed to be reminded to seek true self worth in service to God and others and not in the glory of his seemingly high position. The penitent, after the affliction was gone, was raised up in a ceremony that elevated and anointed him after his disgrace. In giving him back his dignity and having the priest serve him, transferring some of his royalty to him, he was given the impression that he could ascend to the heights of holiness through his atonement and participation in the anointment ritual. The elaborate ceremony in which the priest put the holy blood and holy oil upon his ear, hand, toe and head was a way to give him the confidence to be able to obey the commandments, do what is right, walk in God’s ways and think before speaking. The penitent could then seek true worth within himself after being purified and anointed, finding the sense of self love transmitted by God’s love, and self worth that had been missing formerly.
The Lubavicher Rebbe said that every mitzvah performed brings with it Divine Energy into our material world that will blossom and bear fruit. In a sense the mitzvot exist to give us an entry into Divine energy; a prescribed ritual by which to enter into the awe of co-creation with God. The Zohar calls the Torah a great and mighty tree of life. “It is called Torah (lit. showing) because it shows and reveals that which was hidden and unknown; and all life from above is comprised in it and issues from it. One that “takes hold” of the Torah takes hold of all, above and below.” The definition of mitzvah as commandment gives us back the awe that modern life robs us of. When we participate in awe we are all priests: serving in the knowledge that our actions contribute to the well being of all existence. The common ritual reinforces the equality of priest and penitent. The priest remembers that the penitent’s purity is as great or now greater and surpasses his own after his process of cleansing is complete. As the Talmud says, “In the place where the penitent stands, not even the completely righteous can stand.” The penitent now understands that his inner royalty has been brought forth by his being anointed to God’s service, which could only have happened because he sinned and learned from his mistakes, falling down being the pre-condition for learning. The priest knows that it is a very thin line that prevents him from sinning in the same way. The Commentary, Midradsh Rabba, refers to a quotation from Deuteronomy: “I have wounded, and I heal, Rabbi. B’re-kiah said in the name of Rabbi Levi: [A physician of] flesh and blood wounds with a knife, and heals with a bandage, but the Holy One, blessed be The Eternal, heals with the very thing with which God wounds, as it is said in Jeremiah, For I will restore health unto thee, and I will heal thee out of thy wounds.” This ritual involves the Kohen and the penitent in the exquisite dance of Paradox: that we humans are all alike: at the same time lowly and magnificent, humble and royal, constantly called by God to greater understanding and higher deeds by being given exactly what we need to learn and grow toward Goodness and Holiness.

A Holocaust Poem: We Do Not Understand

We Do Not Understand - Rabbi Jill Hausman April 2006


We do not understand
We cannot grasp six million dead
And if their names were said
Three months we would be standing here.
We are diminished by the hugeness
The intensity of hatred: of fires fanned
And we do not understand.

All, all was swept away
The lives, the way of life,
The scholars, pious ones
No sins could be that great, no faults so grave.
They could have; should have left, or could they?
Or was it planned?
And we do not understand.

The innocents who died: free of guilt and free of sin
The children, maidens, hardly had they lived;
Their cries, the trust betrayed
Reflected in their eyes.
Could You have made it one, or two perhaps,
But six? Why six? We cannot help demand,
And we do not understand

And did they die for something?
For our return to Zion?
Were they martyrs for rebirth?
Were they martyrs for the land?
Was their death ordained
By hand of God or hand of man?
And we do not understand.

And did You hide Your countenance?
You must have heard their prayers.
Were you busy with affairs
That we can’t even fathom?
And why were they expendable
So many grains of sand
And we do not understand.

But could it have been so much worse
And could we all have died;
Tiny miracles of persons saved
Of people still alive.
Did it finally stem from our free will
Man’s inhumanity to man?
And we do not understand.

Please remember to our merit
Or put it down to desperation
That we have not forsaken.
We are still here
We are still Jews, Am Yisrael chai.
Please, oh Please
O One Most High
Take us by the hand;
Be near us, comfort, teach us
For we do not understand.

The Economy and Religion: CBS Interview

Rabbi Jill appeared on CBS’s The Early Show on April 11th. These are CBS’s questions and her answers.

CBS: Unemployment numbers are out of control, people are losing their houses, their savings... Is religion more relevant in troubled times like these?

Rabbi Jill: Religion is vital in difficult times. Just as there are corrections in the market, so there are spiritual corrections. In Deuteronomy, Moses told the people that in good times they will forget about God and claim that they were the sole cause of their wealth. It is in tough times that people return to their relationship with the Divine Presence to renew it, which brings the flow of blessings back into their lives.

CBS: What are you telling people that have lost their jobs or homes to try and inspire them?

RJ: I tell them to do as many deeds of lovingkindness as they possibly can. I tell them that my teacher, Rabbi Gelberman, who is 97, teaches that rain and clouds are a sister to the sun. The clouds will disperse. The sun will shine again. The flow of Divine blessings is in their hands; if they spread light, light will come back into their lives. If they take this spiritual opportunity to deepen their connection to God, their lives will be enriched.

CBS: Do you find that people sometime lose faith in organized religion in times of despair?

RJ: Of course they do. But it is in times like these that they may also seek out a priest, minister, or rabbi to talk to and find that religion has answers that are unavailable elsewhere.

CBS: What's it like out there for all of you -- has attendance for your services risen or dwindled since the start of the recession?

RJ: It’s hard to tell, but I think attendance is about the same. What I notice is that more people are calling me to talk to them one on one.

CBS: What are some of the biggest concerns you're hearing from people at your Temple?

RJ: There are some who have lost jobs and are worried about being unable to pay their rent. They send out resumes but the jobs don’t seem to be out there right now. It’s a very difficult environment.

CBS: Newsweek magazine ran a poll about religion -- One of the results was that 68% of Americans say religion is losing it's influence in our society -- What do you think is the underlying cause of this statistic?

RJ: I think there is a very interesting phenomenon occurring. Religion was historically authoritative: people had to believe and do what the denomination of their religion prescribed. But now there is a movement to individualize religion, which actually results in a universalizing of religion. People are seeing that there is great truth and beauty in all religions and want the freedom to pick and choose from each religion that which speaks to them. So there is more respect for each of the religions and more people saying that they are spiritual but not religious. I can see in the far future that perhaps, eventually, the prophet Zechariah’s vision will come to pass: that God will be one and God’s name will be one.

CBS: The magazine also reported a rise in Americans who claim no religious at all affiliation up from 8% in 1990 to 15% today -- Are you all alarmed by these numbers?

RJ: What I say is that God calls in the exiles. The Divine Presence sends us experiences that contact our souls. God has it covered. It may be that one person will leave religion entirely, but their children will return. It’s in God’s hands.

CBS: Are you worried that these numbers will only get worse as time goes on?

RJ: Religion is the last taboo in our society. You can talk about sex. You can talk about violence. But if you talk about religion, people may think that you are a religious fanatic. Our scientific, acquisitive society does not support dialogue about religion as readily as it does other topics, but people will find a way to speak about what is important to them, hence the statement, “I’m spiritual but not religious.”

CBS: What do you see as the biggest threat to religion in today's world?

RJ: The worship of what the Torah or Bible calls false gods: money, sex, and power. That’s the way it has always been.

The Small Flame

This week’s Torah portion is Tzav, the second portion in the Book of Leviticus. Tzav means command. In this portion the major categories of sacrifice are continued from last week’s portion. We hear about the unleavened meal offering, the sin, and guilt offerings, and the offering of thanksgiving for good fortune and unexpected blessings. The beginning of the portion reads, “God spoke to Moses saying, command Aaron and his sons. This is the law of the elevation offering, to be on the flame on the altar all night until morning; and the fire on the altar should be kept aflame on it.” The word flame, mok-da is printed with a small letter, a smaller than usual mem, to begin the word. When there is a smaller or larger letter in the Torah text, which is rare, it is an invitation to have a closer look at the meaning of the verse, to see what it might be trying to say on a deeper level. The elevation offering was also called the burnt offering. Its purpose was to allow us to draw near to God by making a voluntary offering for in atonement for our human sins. The Baal Shem Tov said that the altar is the heart. The flame on this altar that should not go out is the inner spiritual fire about which the S’fat Emet says, “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.” This ecstatic impulse for God is not what we usually experience. Instead we often experience the small mem of the flame, the embers that are barely burning, which is our dissatisfaction. There is a lack that we feel, a hole in our hearts that nothing can permanently fill. Possessions don’t do it. Infatuation: falling in love; is a taste of spiritual ecstasy that quenches our longing temporarily, but infatuation is not permanent: it never lasts. The story of the Garden of Eden describes the feelings we have in the form of a parable: by exchanging ignorance for consciousness, we exiled ourselves from the state of nature where we were at one with all existence. Now, fully conscious; we are outside the Garden and have the feeling that we used to be smarter, we used to be happier, we used to have union with God. There is a vague feeling that something is missing. Dissatisfaction is a permanent part of the human condition, but far from being a punishment, it is a marvelous blessing, put there to lead us to re-union with the Divine Presence at a new level of synthesis. The small mem urges us forward toward God. King Solomon wrote about this. He had it all: hundreds of wives, untold possessions, fabulous wealth, kingly power. “Vanity of vanities,: he wrote. “All is vanity.” We can believe him because he experienced it all and he was the one person who really did know. “Have awe of God and keep the commandments,” he writes at the end of Ecclesiastes. King Solomon knew. The dissatisfaction is there in us to lead us to the ecstasy of spiritual fulfillment, the flame that burns continually on the altar of our hearts. It is the soul’s pure love of God. This spiritual fire, the sages said, burns the impurities of our souls, atones for sin, and finally turns our transgressions to merits (Yoma 86b). The desire for union, the spiritual fire, never goes out. It is part of our being. The low burning embers can be fanned into the warmth of God’s love and the light of true understanding, culminating in the joy of union and service. May our dissatisfactions melt before God’s healing power and be transmuted into unconditional love. May the love of our souls for God raise us up until we again feel reunited with the Oneness of all Being.

Angelology

This week’s Torah portion is Terumah, which means portion or contribution. Terumah contains the request for the Israelites to give a freewill offering of materials needed for the construction of the Tabernacle, the portable site of worship and sacrifice that the Israelites carried with them in the wilderness, and also the instructions for building it. The Tabernacle, which many of us saw a reproduction of last year on our trip to Lancaster, PA, was a large rectangle comprised of posts and lace hangings. In the rectangle was an altar for sacrifice and a large bowl for washing. At the center rear of the Tabernacle was the Tent of Meeting. In the front of the tent was the incense altar, menorah, and a baker’s rack, called the table, holding 12 loaves of bread. A curtain partitioned the tent into two sections. Behind the curtain was the ark of the Covenant, in which were placed the stone tablets of the Ten commandments. The ark was a box covered inside and outside with gold, and had a crown around it. The ark cover was also made of gold. The Torah says of the ark cover, “You shall make two cherubim of gold, beaten, from both the ends of the lid…at its two ends. The cherubim shall be with wings spread upward, sheltering the lid with their wings with their faces toward one another, toward the lid shall be the faces of the cherubim.” And a sentence later, “I shall speak with you from atop the lid from between the two cherubim.” It seems strange that there should be a commandment to make representations of angels on the ark, especially because in the 10 Commandments, we are specifically prohibited from fashioning a likeness of anything, to worship it. In exploring the symbolism of angels and investigating what the cherubim might be trying to tell us, we might first ask, what are angels and are they real? We have spoken previously about angels – called malachim or messengers: those who visited Abraham and Sarah to tell them they would have a child; the angels who spoke to Abraham and saved Isaac from being sacrificed; and the angel who wrestled with Jacob before his reunion with Esau. The word for angels in this week’s portion is not malachim, messengers, but Cherubim. Nachmanides, cites the Talmud in saying that the word cherubim may come from the word that means lads, in which case k’rabim means “like lads.” So the cherubim were to look like children and Rashi comments, “they each had the image of a child’s face.” Angels then, must be something real, but surely they are not children. However they may be like children in certain ways. Children come from their parents, as energies come from God. We are like God in that children and energies come from us. Children, we know are pure, but are also bordering on the amoral: they have little natural sense of right and wrong, but can be educated and led to goodness. Martin Buber sheds light on the nature of angels when he writes in the Legend of the Baal Shem Tov, “From every deed an angel is born, a good angel or a bad one. But from half hearted or confused deeds which are without meaning and without power angels are born with twisted limbs or without a head or hands or feet. These teachings lead to the conclusion that angels are a personification of energies from us and from God, that accomplish things. When we work to accomplish things for the sake of Heaven, as is said in the Talmud’s Pirkei Avot, we work with God’s cosmic energies. And the converse, when we act selfishly or with confused intentions, our deeds sprout energies that can be ineffectual or even destructive.
There is a Kabbalistic tradition that we are protected by four angels below, while the Shechinah, God’s Eternal Presence, hovers above; Michael on our right, from the words, Who is like God; Gabriel on our left, from the words, God’s Power, Uriel ahead of us, from God‘s Light, and Raphael behind us, from God’s Healer. Michael according to Rabbi’s Gelberman’s book Physician of the Soul, is the angel of protection and balance; Gabriel the angel of Hope, Illumination, and Love, Uriel the angel of vision, leading us to God, and Raphael, the healer. The childlike faces of the angels and their wings remind us of God’s protection. There is that vulnerable place in us that always remains childlike and pure, and that place is precious to God. It is a part of us that trusts; that knows that a Divine Parent will always care for us, nurture us, and help us by making sure that we are fed, clothed, housed, and loved. The Faces of the cherubim remind us that it is through that vulnerability that we may approach God. When we identify our inner purity with our childlike nature that adores and is excited about life, that loves everyone without distinctions, and lives every day in joy, we attach ourselves to the Ultimate Purity and Simplicity of the Eternal Presence. Then we can touch our inner holiness, our inner reverence, and feel our connection with the Divine. When we approach God with our childlike nature, we allow God to speak to our highest selves, directly to our hearts, as it was written, I shall speak to you from between the two cherubim. May our deeds sprout beautiful angels//: like Michael, angels of trust that we are safe in the Universe, like Gabriel, angels of merciful justice and understanding, like Uriel, angels of light, and like Raphael, angels to heal the divisions between us and our brothers and sisters, and between us and the Divine Presence. May the angels we create spread goodness and shelter us; and may our faces always be turned to each other in love.

How High?

This week’s Torah portion is Mishpatim, which means ordinances or statutes. It contains a code of civil law that directly follows the giving of the 10 Commandments, and includes rules governing such areas as slavery, theft, accidental and intentional murder, negligence, and many other subjects. The 10 Commandments, heard in last week’s portion, are the minimum laws that God asks us and expects us to keep. But we know there are 613 commandments in the Torah, and in Mishpatim alone we find more than 50 commandments. How are we to regard this long list of obligations, some of which are as meaningful today as they were 3,000 years ago, such as you shall not taunt or oppress a stranger, and some that are antiquated, such as the laws pertaining to slavery and sacrifice?
There is a statement in this Torah portion, “People of holiness shall you be to me.” It indicates that the 10 Commandments are a start for becoming an ethical and holy people, but that they are only a beginning. The S’fat Emet speaks of straightening our paths; and King Solomon, in Ecclestiastes, wrote, God made man upright or straight; (but they have sought out many schemes7:29) but we know that we are not upright. In looking back over our lives each of us can recall things we did that we shouldn’t have done, things we did in the past that we would not longer do; how we failed to live up to our own standards or intentions. The rules of the 10 Commandments help us to live lives that are straight, to walk in God’s ways, as in the Psalmist’s claim, “All the paths of God are straight.” But we need more straightening. Life presents us with constant tests and opportunities to choose the even straighter over the not so straight; and in this the additional laws of the Torah are exceedingly helpful. Our sages taught that all the rungs of perfection already exist in us. If we go about setting right our actions they allow us to ascend the ladder higher and to straighten our lives even more. And there is no limit to how high we can ascend. However the is a correct way to ascend and an incorrect way. The Chassidic sage, the Kotzker Rebbe said, in effect, be holy because God wants Holiness on earth. The laws in Mishpatim all deal with real life on earth, with interactions between people. Even in the 10 commandments, of which there are only really 9, the first being a statement, I am God, and not a command: of the 9 Commandments only 3 deal with the relationship between people. In other words, they are laws for society. Our sages taught that it is of greater merit to repair our relationship with our fellow human beings than with God, and the Torah certainly reinforces that interpretation. Possibly it is more meritorious because making peace between people is harder than making peace with the Creator. But the irony of repairing our human relationships is that it must be for the sake of heaven and not only for ourselves. Everything we do to another person we do to ourselves and we do to God. Every YOU is really me. Every THEY is really us. It is all really God. It is circular and it is all One. We cannot help becoming better people by being better to each other, which helps us to draw closer to God. As we draw closer to God we also become kinder to each other. The pathway we choose, deeds or study, community or communion with the Divine, lead to the same result, if done correctly, that is, with good intentions. The Torah’s statutes are there to create a harmonious society and help us to climb a little higher, should we wish to do so. The S’fat Emet said that the quotation, “A people of holiness shall you be to me,” is not only a command but a promise. God promised us that we should and could reach the level of holiness that was given to us as our birthright and also as a sacred trust. The Divine Presence revealed the rules in Mishpatim to ensure that our innate holiness would one day be realized. It is there, waiting for us to discover it, to embrace it, and to choose it in our daily lives. May we climb the rungs of holiness that we find within us, and may the ascent expand our ability to dwell in the dimension of the holy.

Guest Blogger, Tad Campbell on Shabbat Shirah

Ours is a faith built on miracles; each in constant remembrance of the loving G-d who stirs our hearts to sing the song of life, even when we are unsure of the notes.

Pillars of fire, parting seas, dancing today, resting tomorrow, all wrap us in a beautifully woven fabric. Each strand is unique, in hues of hope and desire, drawing us closer to the melodic heartbeat of heaven’s harmonious call.

Deep within, Hashem has planted a divine spark. Light to an often darkened world. Each of us longs to glow with its brilliance, seeking the guiding hand of our saving Creator.

Some years ago there was a song on the radio called “Emotional.” In the chorus is the line: Ain’t t it shocking what love can do! True words. An honest idea.

We who come before the Book of Life, the Torah, know its laws are planted deep within. Here we join other voices lifted in praise, in acknowledgement of all the Eternal lays before us. We reach out, joining our paths with rich and stirring chords. Tolling the bell of spiritual freedom.

In the flames of a burning bush or manna fallen from above, we the Jewish people stand in appreciation and immeasurable awe of the G-d who walks not before us, but with us. We are embraced in a truly stirring ballad, its words written on our minds, its melody parading in our hearts. Shocking isn’t it, what love can do!