This week’s Torah portion is Tzav, which means, command. It continues the rules given to the priests concerning the five categories of sacrifices: elevation, grain or meal, feast-peace, sin, and guilt offering. The portion describes how the sacrifices should be offered and who may eat them; then the portion ends with a description of the priests seven day inauguration process.
This portion is really all about process, and it can be read on a metaphoric level as a kind of guide for self improvement and becoming closer to God. The Torah says, “This is the instruction of the elevation offering; It is the elevation offering, that stays on the flame upon the altar all night until the morning, and the fire of the altar should remain aflame on it. The priest ….shall separate the ashes which the fire consumed of the elevation offering on the altar, and he shall put them beside the altar, and carry the ashes outside the camp to a pure place. The fire on the altar shall remain burning on it; it shall not be extinguished; and the priest shall kindle wood on it every morning, and prepare the elevation offering on it; and he cause the fat of the peace offerings to go up in smoke on it. The fire shall be burning always upon the altar; it shall not go out.” The elevation offering is olah in Hebrew. It’s the word for up, the same word as aliyah, to be called up. Our yearning is to become elevated, and this is what makes us most human. In his great work called, the Tanya, Rabbi Schneur Zalman writes about the animal soul and the human soul. This is what B’reisheet, the first Torah portion, speaks about. Once Adam and Eve eat of the fruit and attain human consciousness, the human soul, they are afraid that God will find out what they have done, and they hide. Of course God already knows what they did and where they are, but God makes a big show about their actions, when God pretends to find out. Eve is given the punishment that her pain in childbearing will be increased. This simply happens through fear coming into the world. Fear is not a punishment, then, because just by having left the animal state, they already feel fear. This is evidenced by the fact that they hid after eating the fruit and before receiving the so-called punishment. Fear is about imagining the future, about having calendars and blackberry’s; and it is precisely our ability to think about the future that leads us to want to improve ourselves; living happier and more fulfilled lives. The great gift of fear is that we can set our sights on eternity and visualize what it would be like to be joyous and whole. The Torah speaks about the offering that stays on the flame all night until morning. If night is a metaphor that describes our suffering, then our desire for re-union with the Divine persists through our nights of difficulty, until the joy of the fulfillment comes in the morning. We are instructed to keep our desires burning through the nights, even to add fresh wood to the fire that burns in our souls, which the Talmud calls the service of the heart. The ashes that remain may be that part of ourselves that we know we need to purify. Rabbi Elimelech quotes the Talmud which says, “Great is repentance, since it transforms willful sins into merits” How is this portrayed in the portion? The ashes were taken to a pure place, meaning perhaps that even our less worthy parts can be put in service to holiness. This is reassuring, because it tells us that we don’t need to get rid of the less noble parts of ourselves; we only have to put them to a higher purpose. This is such an important distinction. Many of us in our upbringing were given the message that only some parts of ourselves were loved and accepted or even acceptable. But we are not manufactured in parts; we are whole beings. Carl Jung writes about personality integration; and that is our task: to use more and more of ourselves to serve what is highest and best in us. The Torah speaks about this also as raising the ashes. How can we raise the ashes? In the process of seeking improvement, the person bringing a sacrifice nourished others. The priests, the relatives and friends, the poor, as well as the person bringing the sacrifice: all ate from it; and when we improve ourselves we benefit ourselves as well as others. This portion repeatedly stresses that our fire: our burning desire to love and be loved must not be extinguished. We must nourish our soul’s impulse to perfect ourselves and in so doing to find the joy in life and the fulfillment of spiritual elevation. This is the pinnacle of being human: a quest to leave the animal state even further behind and rise, becoming truly, as the S’fat Emet says, (P. 157) “half above and half below,” half spiritual soul-beings and half matter. May we seize this commandment to continually elevate ourselves; and turn our thoughts, actions, and desires toward Heaven. May we purify ourselves and in so doing, bring nourishment and goodness to all those whose lives we touch.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Union with God, a Parable of Marriage
This week we begin the Book of Leviticus, the third book of the Torah. The first portion, Vayikra, by which the book is known in Hebrew, means: “and called.” God calls to Moses to instruct him about how the priests, the Kohanim, will offer sacrifice. Four categories of sacrifice are outlined: the elevation offering, or olah, the feast peace offering, or zevach shelamim, the sin offering, chatat, and the guilt offering, asham. All of these are voluntary offerings; and the sin and guilt offerings are for unintentional sins and guilt.
Since we don’t practice sacrifice any more, much of what we now discuss in the Book of Leviticus is of a metaphoric nature. But though our practice is so different from what our ancestors did, we, ourselves, are not so fundamentally different; and we can find meaning in the intent of these ancient rituals. Toward the beginning of the portion, the Torah says, “When a person among you will bring an offering to God, from the cattle and from the flocks, you shall bring your offering.” It is noteworthy that there is a word that appears four times in this short excerpt. The word, offering, and the word, bring, in the English, do not really supply the meaning of the Hebrew. The Hebrew words yakriv and karban are from the word karov, meaning: near, soon, close. The sentence could be translated, when you draw near to become close, or when you approach God to offer yourselves. And this puts us in touch with our own yearnings to re-experience the union with God that we lost in the Garden of Eden, when we left the animal state and became conscious.
The prophet, Hosea, makes this yearning for union explicit, describing God as the bridegroom and Israel as the bride, in these famous words that observant Jews recite when putting on tefillin: “I will betroth you unto me forever; I will betroth you unto me in righteousness and justice, in kindness and compassion; I will betroth you unto me in faithfulness; and you shall know God (2:21).” In a certain sense, sacrifice can be understood in light of this metaphor of the wedding between us and God. The Tabernacle is an enclosure like the chuppah, where we come to undergo a ceremony of uniting, and then partake in a wedding feast; and most of the sacrifices were indeed eaten, either by the person bringing herself or himself near, or by the priests, the poor, the relatives and friends of the one bringing the offering, or all of the above. In Hebrew, marriage is referred to as Kiddushin: holiness, and the sacrificial service was an awe inspiring and holy ritual uniting not only us and God but life and death. There are more similarities: just as God’s instructions to Moses in this portion spell out the details of sacrifice, the ketuba or marriage contract at a wedding specifies what each person shall contribute to the union. The Priest carried out the sacred rituals of sacrifice just as a modern rabbi provides a context of holiness for a wedding ceremony. And there is a Jewish custom which is observed by the Orthodox: that Bride and Groom confess and then fast before their wedding, which is analogous to the requirement that the person presenting a sacrifice lean his hands on the sacrifice and confess before the sacrifice is presented, and then cooked on the altar. We bring the best of ourselves to a marriage, as we are commanded to bring that which is unblemished, whole, complete, and the choicest parts as an offering. The act of consummation has its counterpart in sacrifice as well. Rabbi Dvorah Weisberg in The Women’s Torah Commentary, quotes Midrash Tanchuma, which says, “God chose to leave the high heavens and descend to the earth to the Tent of Meeting for the love of Israel.” She says, “God chose concealment over openness. This is a sign of Divine modesty, since what is private is seen by God as more precious.” It is the possibility of experiencing sacredness that unites our contemporary worship and ancient sacrifice. We speak to God in the intimacy of our hearts to attempt to feel the awe and bliss of being attached to our Creator. Our approach, offering, and drawing near is a rededication of ourselves to the best that is in us – the holiness that we can call forth in ourselves if we approach with open hearts, and willing minds. Our aim is to become worthy of what Abraham Joshua Heschl called being noticed by God. We can seek to unite what is separate through our own sincerity of worship, right action, and loving thoughts. We can recreate the awe of life and death that our ancestors experienced in sacrifice and that King Solomon described in The Song of Songs: (8:6, 7) “Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death; jealousy is harsh as the grave; its flashes are flashes of fire, a Divine flame. Many waters cannot quench love, nor can rivers drown it…” The need to draw close to God still exists within us: the need to confess, make right, be cleansed, rejoice, apologize, repent, and elevate ourselves. Though our mechanisms may be different: meditation, ritual, synagogue worship, deeds of loving kindness, charity, and love, our intention to seek out contentment, and our need to feel whole are the same. May we approach our worship and service with the attitudes of awe and the intimacy of lovers, as did our ancient ancestors, and may our drawing near make us whole and be a source of great blessing.
Since we don’t practice sacrifice any more, much of what we now discuss in the Book of Leviticus is of a metaphoric nature. But though our practice is so different from what our ancestors did, we, ourselves, are not so fundamentally different; and we can find meaning in the intent of these ancient rituals. Toward the beginning of the portion, the Torah says, “When a person among you will bring an offering to God, from the cattle and from the flocks, you shall bring your offering.” It is noteworthy that there is a word that appears four times in this short excerpt. The word, offering, and the word, bring, in the English, do not really supply the meaning of the Hebrew. The Hebrew words yakriv and karban are from the word karov, meaning: near, soon, close. The sentence could be translated, when you draw near to become close, or when you approach God to offer yourselves. And this puts us in touch with our own yearnings to re-experience the union with God that we lost in the Garden of Eden, when we left the animal state and became conscious.
The prophet, Hosea, makes this yearning for union explicit, describing God as the bridegroom and Israel as the bride, in these famous words that observant Jews recite when putting on tefillin: “I will betroth you unto me forever; I will betroth you unto me in righteousness and justice, in kindness and compassion; I will betroth you unto me in faithfulness; and you shall know God (2:21).” In a certain sense, sacrifice can be understood in light of this metaphor of the wedding between us and God. The Tabernacle is an enclosure like the chuppah, where we come to undergo a ceremony of uniting, and then partake in a wedding feast; and most of the sacrifices were indeed eaten, either by the person bringing herself or himself near, or by the priests, the poor, the relatives and friends of the one bringing the offering, or all of the above. In Hebrew, marriage is referred to as Kiddushin: holiness, and the sacrificial service was an awe inspiring and holy ritual uniting not only us and God but life and death. There are more similarities: just as God’s instructions to Moses in this portion spell out the details of sacrifice, the ketuba or marriage contract at a wedding specifies what each person shall contribute to the union. The Priest carried out the sacred rituals of sacrifice just as a modern rabbi provides a context of holiness for a wedding ceremony. And there is a Jewish custom which is observed by the Orthodox: that Bride and Groom confess and then fast before their wedding, which is analogous to the requirement that the person presenting a sacrifice lean his hands on the sacrifice and confess before the sacrifice is presented, and then cooked on the altar. We bring the best of ourselves to a marriage, as we are commanded to bring that which is unblemished, whole, complete, and the choicest parts as an offering. The act of consummation has its counterpart in sacrifice as well. Rabbi Dvorah Weisberg in The Women’s Torah Commentary, quotes Midrash Tanchuma, which says, “God chose to leave the high heavens and descend to the earth to the Tent of Meeting for the love of Israel.” She says, “God chose concealment over openness. This is a sign of Divine modesty, since what is private is seen by God as more precious.” It is the possibility of experiencing sacredness that unites our contemporary worship and ancient sacrifice. We speak to God in the intimacy of our hearts to attempt to feel the awe and bliss of being attached to our Creator. Our approach, offering, and drawing near is a rededication of ourselves to the best that is in us – the holiness that we can call forth in ourselves if we approach with open hearts, and willing minds. Our aim is to become worthy of what Abraham Joshua Heschl called being noticed by God. We can seek to unite what is separate through our own sincerity of worship, right action, and loving thoughts. We can recreate the awe of life and death that our ancestors experienced in sacrifice and that King Solomon described in The Song of Songs: (8:6, 7) “Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death; jealousy is harsh as the grave; its flashes are flashes of fire, a Divine flame. Many waters cannot quench love, nor can rivers drown it…” The need to draw close to God still exists within us: the need to confess, make right, be cleansed, rejoice, apologize, repent, and elevate ourselves. Though our mechanisms may be different: meditation, ritual, synagogue worship, deeds of loving kindness, charity, and love, our intention to seek out contentment, and our need to feel whole are the same. May we approach our worship and service with the attitudes of awe and the intimacy of lovers, as did our ancient ancestors, and may our drawing near make us whole and be a source of great blessing.
Friday, February 25, 2011
God is Arranging It
This week’s Torah portion is Ki Tissa, which means.” when you take.” It begins with the taking of a census, goes on to appoint two people to oversee the work of the Tabernacle and holy vestments, and reiterates that Shabbat observance supersedes work on the tabernacle for God. Later in the portion, while Moses is gone, the people make and worship a golden calf. Moses wins forgiveness for them and has an intimate encounter with God, in which he hears a description of God’s attributes: that God is compassionate and gracious; slow to anger, forgiving, and great in kindness and truth.
Tonight I’d like to address a recurring theme in the Torah. While the people are worshipping the golden calf, it says, “God said to Moses, I have seen this people and behold it is a stiff-necked people, and now desist from me. Let my anger flare up against them and I shall annihilate them and I shall make you a great nation.” This is very similar to a section in the book of Numbers, in which the people have heard the report of the scouts, whose opinion it is that the land cannot be conquered. The people become demoralized and decide to return to Egypt. At that time, the Torah says, “God said to Moses, how long will this people provoke me and how long will they not have faith in me, despite all the signs that I have performed in their midst. I will smite them with the plague and annihilate them and I shall make you a greater and more powerful nation than they.” What are we supposed to think about these two passages? Is God vengeful and punitive or is there something else going on below the surface of the text? My understanding stems from a comment about another incomprehensible passage, the Akedah, the binding of Isaac. In reference to Abraham the sages say that no one is given a test that they cannot pass. These two episodes about Moses are truly just that: they are about Moses and not about the people. In both instances, Moses is given a choice: to continue as the leader of the Jewish people, with all the problems, frustrations, and difficulties that may arise, or to have the problems taken off his hands. In both cases, Moses argues with God and convinces God to save the people. But there is another way to look at this interaction. We say that God is omniscient: all knowing. We also say in Judaism that the past, present, and future are all One, as God and existence are One. So God already knows the outcome of Moses’ choice. God knows what Moses will choose. But – and this is a very important point – God allows Moses free choice. Our free will is never taken away. And by allowing Moses to choose freely, God arranges it so that Moses has to take responsibility for his choice and for signing onto the next leg of the trip, when the going will definitely get tough. Had Moses chosen to kill the Israelites, he would have had to live with the knowledge that he caused all their deaths. So the decision was somewhat of a foregone conclusion. By choosing to intercede for them, it became a win-win situation: Moses passed the tests and he also got to take credit for saving his people. And this helped him to become an even greater leader than he was before, but also helped him spiritually: to grow as a person. What God also caused was that Moses, having agreed to the next leg of the journey, could not complain about how hard the task was, or walk away from it. Taking responsibility means you can’t whine or complain about your choice. This theme of taking responsibility in the Torah, is actually stated for the first time, in B’reisheet, with the story of Adam and Eve. God arranges it so that the fruit was prominently displayed and told the humans not to eat it. But God also planted the suggestion in Eve’s mind, via the serpent, that eating the fruit would be a positive thing, and that it would not cause her death. Eve freely chose to eat the fruit, which made her a conscious human being, knowing right from wrong; but she did not have this knowledge of right and wrong before she ate it, before she chose. God so arranged it that she would grow spiritually and that she would take responsibility for her choice. After the humans became conscious, having exchanged the animal state for the conscious state, they have to work for a living; and fear, the knowledge of the possible future, comes into the world. Having chosen consciousness, they cannot complain or whine about their choice. This is how the world works. We get to choose and then take responsibility for our choices by not complaining about them or blaming anyone for what we have chosen. But we should also be aware of what this portion teaches us: that God is, through suggestion and circumstance, arranging for our spiritual growth. God is not a punitive or angry God. God is compassionate and gracious; slow to anger, forgiving, and great in kindness and truth. God is the One who leads us to tests, in which we can test ourselves against our own sense of rightness and goodness, and morality, which come from our Godly souls and God-given natures. God’s guidance and wisdom arranges win-win situations for us: a path for us along which our blessings lie. Our growth and our blessings are dependent on our willingness to partner with God in the planned forward motion. May we realize that our circumstances are helping us to grow, and choose with faith the positive direction that is being arranged for us.
Tonight I’d like to address a recurring theme in the Torah. While the people are worshipping the golden calf, it says, “God said to Moses, I have seen this people and behold it is a stiff-necked people, and now desist from me. Let my anger flare up against them and I shall annihilate them and I shall make you a great nation.” This is very similar to a section in the book of Numbers, in which the people have heard the report of the scouts, whose opinion it is that the land cannot be conquered. The people become demoralized and decide to return to Egypt. At that time, the Torah says, “God said to Moses, how long will this people provoke me and how long will they not have faith in me, despite all the signs that I have performed in their midst. I will smite them with the plague and annihilate them and I shall make you a greater and more powerful nation than they.” What are we supposed to think about these two passages? Is God vengeful and punitive or is there something else going on below the surface of the text? My understanding stems from a comment about another incomprehensible passage, the Akedah, the binding of Isaac. In reference to Abraham the sages say that no one is given a test that they cannot pass. These two episodes about Moses are truly just that: they are about Moses and not about the people. In both instances, Moses is given a choice: to continue as the leader of the Jewish people, with all the problems, frustrations, and difficulties that may arise, or to have the problems taken off his hands. In both cases, Moses argues with God and convinces God to save the people. But there is another way to look at this interaction. We say that God is omniscient: all knowing. We also say in Judaism that the past, present, and future are all One, as God and existence are One. So God already knows the outcome of Moses’ choice. God knows what Moses will choose. But – and this is a very important point – God allows Moses free choice. Our free will is never taken away. And by allowing Moses to choose freely, God arranges it so that Moses has to take responsibility for his choice and for signing onto the next leg of the trip, when the going will definitely get tough. Had Moses chosen to kill the Israelites, he would have had to live with the knowledge that he caused all their deaths. So the decision was somewhat of a foregone conclusion. By choosing to intercede for them, it became a win-win situation: Moses passed the tests and he also got to take credit for saving his people. And this helped him to become an even greater leader than he was before, but also helped him spiritually: to grow as a person. What God also caused was that Moses, having agreed to the next leg of the journey, could not complain about how hard the task was, or walk away from it. Taking responsibility means you can’t whine or complain about your choice. This theme of taking responsibility in the Torah, is actually stated for the first time, in B’reisheet, with the story of Adam and Eve. God arranges it so that the fruit was prominently displayed and told the humans not to eat it. But God also planted the suggestion in Eve’s mind, via the serpent, that eating the fruit would be a positive thing, and that it would not cause her death. Eve freely chose to eat the fruit, which made her a conscious human being, knowing right from wrong; but she did not have this knowledge of right and wrong before she ate it, before she chose. God so arranged it that she would grow spiritually and that she would take responsibility for her choice. After the humans became conscious, having exchanged the animal state for the conscious state, they have to work for a living; and fear, the knowledge of the possible future, comes into the world. Having chosen consciousness, they cannot complain or whine about their choice. This is how the world works. We get to choose and then take responsibility for our choices by not complaining about them or blaming anyone for what we have chosen. But we should also be aware of what this portion teaches us: that God is, through suggestion and circumstance, arranging for our spiritual growth. God is not a punitive or angry God. God is compassionate and gracious; slow to anger, forgiving, and great in kindness and truth. God is the One who leads us to tests, in which we can test ourselves against our own sense of rightness and goodness, and morality, which come from our Godly souls and God-given natures. God’s guidance and wisdom arranges win-win situations for us: a path for us along which our blessings lie. Our growth and our blessings are dependent on our willingness to partner with God in the planned forward motion. May we realize that our circumstances are helping us to grow, and choose with faith the positive direction that is being arranged for us.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Being Our Own Priest
This week’s Torah portion is Tetzaveh, which means, Command. It contains the instructions for the Eternal light, the New Tamid, to be continually kindled at night. God describes the design of the eight priestly garments and tells Moses to dress the priests, the Kohanim, in them and to inaugurate the priests during a seven day consecration ceremony. The specifications for an incense altar are given, as is the commandment not to offer any alien incense.
Early in the portion, the Torah says, “Now you, bring near to yourself Aaron your Brother and his sons with him from among the children of Israel…to minister to me. (28:1)” This is the creation of the Priesthood in Judaism. Moses, Aaron his brother, and his sons, were of the Tribe of Levi. A very few of the Levites, just Aaron and his four sons and their male children were to become priests. At this time, the priests were to carry out the service of sacrifice. This necessitated coming into daily contact with the holy objects within the Tabernacle: the altar of sacrifice and the big bowl, called the laver, which was filled with water for washing; and in the Tent of Meeting: the ark, the menorah, the table for show bread, and the incense altar. Because these objects were in close proximity to God’s presence, manifested as a cloud shaped like a pillar, over the Tabernacle, It was important for the priests to purify themselves and to be as holy as possible; because it could be physically dangerous to them to be in an impure state while offering sacrifice or being near the holy objects. The priests protected the people from dangerous contact with a level of purity they could not match. The Priesthood was abolished during Roman times, at the time of the destruction of the second Temple in 70 CE. But this is not quite the end of the story.
Before the giving of the Ten Commandments, in Exodus, God says to Moses, “You shall be to me a kingdom of priests, a holy nation,” This was to be a new system for human kind, which could only be fully realized after the abolition of a formal priesthood. Clearly, the original desire was that each of us be our own priest; and that is the system we have right now. It is the direction in which we are moving and being led. What does being a kingdom of priests, a holy nation, mean today? When we say in our prayers, Baruch atah Adonai, we address God as atah, YOU, before we address God as Melech haOlam, Ruler of the Universe. This YOU, is the God who is as close to us as breathing, as close as our own hearts and feelings. The commandment, “Bring near to yourself,” reinforces this desire for intimacy. The Lubavitcher Rebbe points out that the Hebrew word, Command, is related to the root for the word “connect.” And the Koznitzer Rebbe says that it’s also related to the root meaning “befriend.” So the intent of the priesthood was the creation of a group of people who were not supposed to be higher than everyone else, necessarily, but to be more connected to God, in more of an intimate, familiar relationship with the aspect of God we address as YOU: the loving God who is always our friend, always there for us. How did the priests achieve this? The priests prepared themselves for their office in a seven day inauguration ceremony that required them to be separated from the community, dwelling in the Tabernacle boundaries and not leaving them for any reason. They maintained their purity by drawing near to God through the elaborate and precisely defined rituals of sacrificial service; in short, through dedicating their actions to a holy purpose and being scrupulous in following directions exactly, a form of subjugating their will to God’s will. Anyone who could not follow directions was bound to come to grief.
We, as modern priests, have a slightly different path to the same end. In the book, Living Mussar Every Day, by Rabbi Zvi Miller, he quotes a teaching by the Alter Rebbe of Kelm who said: “The Divine service we are charged with is preparation to receive spiritual treasures. All that is required of us is to prepare and purify ourselves through Torah and Mitzvot. If we strengthen ourselves in this, God, in great love, will bless and help us in the most wondrous of ways.” Our task is to find that inner fineness and purity that will allow us to experience our connection to God and to be able to recognize and accept Divine friendship. Like the ancient priests, we do this through service. The Zohar says, “Blessed are the Israelites, who entered and came out and comprehended the mystery of the ways of the Torah, to walk in the way of truth. .. because only from there is unity possible, for the children of Israel stand here below as emissaries of the Most High, to open the gates, to shed light upon the ways, to kindle the radiance of the heavenly fire, to draw all things that are below near to them that are above, in order that all may become a unity Zohar II:181b.” The purpose of our service is healing and harmonizing in the world: kindling inner radiance and bringing truer values to our lives; helping to create a society that is more connected to its spiritual source. By identifying and aligning ourselves with that which is most God-like in us, and by service: being of use and of help in the universe, we bring ourselves near to the source of goodness, the source of love, friendship and intimacy that nurtures and supports us and our well being. The Zohar says, ‘The Place which You have made for Your dwelling place, God, for the Sanctuary, God, which You prepared.’ “This implies the necessity of building a sanctuary below, corresponding to the Sanctuary above, wherein the Holy One is daily served and worshipped. Zohar Raya Mehemna: 59b.” This describes our task as modern priests: to heal, to help, and to teach ourselves, others, and ultimately give back to the world by our commitment to purification and closeness to our Divine connection: to make a dwelling place in this world for the part of God that can be rooted here. May we take upon ourselves this sacred mission, and experience the harmonizing power of holiness in our lives.
Early in the portion, the Torah says, “Now you, bring near to yourself Aaron your Brother and his sons with him from among the children of Israel…to minister to me. (28:1)” This is the creation of the Priesthood in Judaism. Moses, Aaron his brother, and his sons, were of the Tribe of Levi. A very few of the Levites, just Aaron and his four sons and their male children were to become priests. At this time, the priests were to carry out the service of sacrifice. This necessitated coming into daily contact with the holy objects within the Tabernacle: the altar of sacrifice and the big bowl, called the laver, which was filled with water for washing; and in the Tent of Meeting: the ark, the menorah, the table for show bread, and the incense altar. Because these objects were in close proximity to God’s presence, manifested as a cloud shaped like a pillar, over the Tabernacle, It was important for the priests to purify themselves and to be as holy as possible; because it could be physically dangerous to them to be in an impure state while offering sacrifice or being near the holy objects. The priests protected the people from dangerous contact with a level of purity they could not match. The Priesthood was abolished during Roman times, at the time of the destruction of the second Temple in 70 CE. But this is not quite the end of the story.
Before the giving of the Ten Commandments, in Exodus, God says to Moses, “You shall be to me a kingdom of priests, a holy nation,” This was to be a new system for human kind, which could only be fully realized after the abolition of a formal priesthood. Clearly, the original desire was that each of us be our own priest; and that is the system we have right now. It is the direction in which we are moving and being led. What does being a kingdom of priests, a holy nation, mean today? When we say in our prayers, Baruch atah Adonai, we address God as atah, YOU, before we address God as Melech haOlam, Ruler of the Universe. This YOU, is the God who is as close to us as breathing, as close as our own hearts and feelings. The commandment, “Bring near to yourself,” reinforces this desire for intimacy. The Lubavitcher Rebbe points out that the Hebrew word, Command, is related to the root for the word “connect.” And the Koznitzer Rebbe says that it’s also related to the root meaning “befriend.” So the intent of the priesthood was the creation of a group of people who were not supposed to be higher than everyone else, necessarily, but to be more connected to God, in more of an intimate, familiar relationship with the aspect of God we address as YOU: the loving God who is always our friend, always there for us. How did the priests achieve this? The priests prepared themselves for their office in a seven day inauguration ceremony that required them to be separated from the community, dwelling in the Tabernacle boundaries and not leaving them for any reason. They maintained their purity by drawing near to God through the elaborate and precisely defined rituals of sacrificial service; in short, through dedicating their actions to a holy purpose and being scrupulous in following directions exactly, a form of subjugating their will to God’s will. Anyone who could not follow directions was bound to come to grief.
We, as modern priests, have a slightly different path to the same end. In the book, Living Mussar Every Day, by Rabbi Zvi Miller, he quotes a teaching by the Alter Rebbe of Kelm who said: “The Divine service we are charged with is preparation to receive spiritual treasures. All that is required of us is to prepare and purify ourselves through Torah and Mitzvot. If we strengthen ourselves in this, God, in great love, will bless and help us in the most wondrous of ways.” Our task is to find that inner fineness and purity that will allow us to experience our connection to God and to be able to recognize and accept Divine friendship. Like the ancient priests, we do this through service. The Zohar says, “Blessed are the Israelites, who entered and came out and comprehended the mystery of the ways of the Torah, to walk in the way of truth. .. because only from there is unity possible, for the children of Israel stand here below as emissaries of the Most High, to open the gates, to shed light upon the ways, to kindle the radiance of the heavenly fire, to draw all things that are below near to them that are above, in order that all may become a unity Zohar II:181b.” The purpose of our service is healing and harmonizing in the world: kindling inner radiance and bringing truer values to our lives; helping to create a society that is more connected to its spiritual source. By identifying and aligning ourselves with that which is most God-like in us, and by service: being of use and of help in the universe, we bring ourselves near to the source of goodness, the source of love, friendship and intimacy that nurtures and supports us and our well being. The Zohar says, ‘The Place which You have made for Your dwelling place, God, for the Sanctuary, God, which You prepared.’ “This implies the necessity of building a sanctuary below, corresponding to the Sanctuary above, wherein the Holy One is daily served and worshipped. Zohar Raya Mehemna: 59b.” This describes our task as modern priests: to heal, to help, and to teach ourselves, others, and ultimately give back to the world by our commitment to purification and closeness to our Divine connection: to make a dwelling place in this world for the part of God that can be rooted here. May we take upon ourselves this sacred mission, and experience the harmonizing power of holiness in our lives.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Taking and Giving
This week’s Torah portion is Terumah, which means a portion or an offering. God asks Moses to inform the people that they can bring freewill offerings of precious metals, precious stones, colored fabric, wood, and animal skins for the grand project: the construction of the Tabernacle in the wilderness, that will allow God’s Presence to dwell among them. The portion also gives precise instructions about how the Tabernacle should be constructed. The Israelites were to build a tent of meeting and an outer courtyard for the service of worship and sacrifice. They were also to make the holy furniture: a golden ark to house the tablets of the Ten Commandments, a golden menorah as tall as a person, a tall golden table that looked like a baker’s rack, to hold 12 special loaves of bread; and a copper altar for sacrifice.
The portion begins, “God spoke to Moses saying, Speak to the Children of Israel and let them take for me a portion from every individual whose heart is willing, shall you take my portion.” As in the Torah portion, Bo, also from Exodus, which begins, “Come to Pharaoh,” not Go to Pharaoh, we have a linguistic mystery. Why does the Torah say, Take, a form of the Hebrew word, Kach, and not, Give, Tein, as in Natan and Notein? You might say, well Moses is taking the offering; but that’s not what the Torah says. The words indicate that the Israelites will be dong the taking. What is the Torah trying to tell us? In Rabbi Elimelech’s Torah commentary, in a note at the end of this week’s portion, it says, ”My Father said at a gathering, God created the Universe and all physical objects – something from nothing. Jews must transform the something into Nothing. They must transform the material into the spiritual.” Rabbi Elimelech refers to Job, who said, “Wisdom comes from ayin, from Nothing.” This mystery of taking, not giving, is a window into one of the great secrets of the Torah. The Zohar expresses it like this: (II: 127a) “in this Foundation is the fabrication of the whole, of all the world, of souls and spirits; this is the hidden force behind the creation of the heaven and earth, and this is also the hidden force behind the building of the Tabernacle, which was erected in the likeness both of the world above and of the world below. This is the significance of the words: “that they take me an offering”: two grades become united as one in the Tabernacle which is the emblem of that union.” Something is being united. The Zohar speaks about the Tabernacle uniting earth and heaven, however, this also occurs for the individual who gives. In Kedoshim, from Leviticus, it says, “You shall not indulge in sorcery and you shall not believe in lucky times (19: )” This verse delineates the relationship between us and the Divine. By hearing the words of a fortune teller, we create a blockage or an impediment between us and God, who is sending us information and experiences, based on our free choices The choice to give initiates an intimate relationship between the material and the spiritual, allowing this circle between us and God, or this opening of a channel between us, to be a pathway for the flow of blessings, which then can reach us. Such a thing happens in the material plane in the same way as a loving or caring interaction with another person equips the first person to receive love back from the second. In the Midrash it says, (Ex Rabba 33:6) “Ordinarily, when one buys an article in the market-place, is he then able to acquire its owner, too? But the Holy One, blessed be God,, gave the Torah to Israel and said to them: ' You are taking Me, as it were! ' Hence, THAT THEY TAKE ME AS AN OFFERING.” What we are receiving is Divinity: more Divine blessings. Since everything is God, what we receive is a quality of God. The Leadership and Management consultant and author Ken Blanchard has spoken about receiving blessings as a result of his giving. He writes, “I absolutely believe in the power of tithing and giving back. My own experience about all the blessings I've had in my life is that the more I give away, the more that comes back. That is the way life works, and that is the way energy works.” I, in my own life, have witnessed that my giving initiates blessings being able to flow to me. I never worry about giving to charity anymore. I know, because I have seen it: that whatever I give will mysteriously be replaced. Giving is the way to unite earth and heaven – to initiate, maintain, and deepen our relationship to God. It is one way to become a little more holy. And giving does not have to be money. As the V’ahavta tells us, giving can be love in our hearts. Giving can be actions, giving with all our hearts, souls, and might. The Apter Rebbe speaks about the Tabernacle being a representation of God’s giving and sharing with the Jewish people, of sharing God’s Kingdom with us In Terumah we are being asked to give – if, and only if, the giving comes from our hearts with free will – in order to allow us to take: to take the blessings we are being sent, through our own giving. The secret of taking is giving. God commands us to give so that, in God’s love, God may give to us. May each of us be among those that nurture the world through our giving: and in this way, to unite earth and heaven.
The portion begins, “God spoke to Moses saying, Speak to the Children of Israel and let them take for me a portion from every individual whose heart is willing, shall you take my portion.” As in the Torah portion, Bo, also from Exodus, which begins, “Come to Pharaoh,” not Go to Pharaoh, we have a linguistic mystery. Why does the Torah say, Take, a form of the Hebrew word, Kach, and not, Give, Tein, as in Natan and Notein? You might say, well Moses is taking the offering; but that’s not what the Torah says. The words indicate that the Israelites will be dong the taking. What is the Torah trying to tell us? In Rabbi Elimelech’s Torah commentary, in a note at the end of this week’s portion, it says, ”My Father said at a gathering, God created the Universe and all physical objects – something from nothing. Jews must transform the something into Nothing. They must transform the material into the spiritual.” Rabbi Elimelech refers to Job, who said, “Wisdom comes from ayin, from Nothing.” This mystery of taking, not giving, is a window into one of the great secrets of the Torah. The Zohar expresses it like this: (II: 127a) “in this Foundation is the fabrication of the whole, of all the world, of souls and spirits; this is the hidden force behind the creation of the heaven and earth, and this is also the hidden force behind the building of the Tabernacle, which was erected in the likeness both of the world above and of the world below. This is the significance of the words: “that they take me an offering”: two grades become united as one in the Tabernacle which is the emblem of that union.” Something is being united. The Zohar speaks about the Tabernacle uniting earth and heaven, however, this also occurs for the individual who gives. In Kedoshim, from Leviticus, it says, “You shall not indulge in sorcery and you shall not believe in lucky times (19: )” This verse delineates the relationship between us and the Divine. By hearing the words of a fortune teller, we create a blockage or an impediment between us and God, who is sending us information and experiences, based on our free choices The choice to give initiates an intimate relationship between the material and the spiritual, allowing this circle between us and God, or this opening of a channel between us, to be a pathway for the flow of blessings, which then can reach us. Such a thing happens in the material plane in the same way as a loving or caring interaction with another person equips the first person to receive love back from the second. In the Midrash it says, (Ex Rabba 33:6) “Ordinarily, when one buys an article in the market-place, is he then able to acquire its owner, too? But the Holy One, blessed be God,, gave the Torah to Israel and said to them: ' You are taking Me, as it were! ' Hence, THAT THEY TAKE ME AS AN OFFERING.” What we are receiving is Divinity: more Divine blessings. Since everything is God, what we receive is a quality of God. The Leadership and Management consultant and author Ken Blanchard has spoken about receiving blessings as a result of his giving. He writes, “I absolutely believe in the power of tithing and giving back. My own experience about all the blessings I've had in my life is that the more I give away, the more that comes back. That is the way life works, and that is the way energy works.” I, in my own life, have witnessed that my giving initiates blessings being able to flow to me. I never worry about giving to charity anymore. I know, because I have seen it: that whatever I give will mysteriously be replaced. Giving is the way to unite earth and heaven – to initiate, maintain, and deepen our relationship to God. It is one way to become a little more holy. And giving does not have to be money. As the V’ahavta tells us, giving can be love in our hearts. Giving can be actions, giving with all our hearts, souls, and might. The Apter Rebbe speaks about the Tabernacle being a representation of God’s giving and sharing with the Jewish people, of sharing God’s Kingdom with us In Terumah we are being asked to give – if, and only if, the giving comes from our hearts with free will – in order to allow us to take: to take the blessings we are being sent, through our own giving. The secret of taking is giving. God commands us to give so that, in God’s love, God may give to us. May each of us be among those that nurture the world through our giving: and in this way, to unite earth and heaven.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
When the Parts Work Together
This week’s Torah portion is Mishpatim, judgments or laws. These laws were given to Moses by God, after the 10 Commandments. The experience of the Revelation, being so close to God, was too frightening for the people; so they asked Moses to hear the laws from God and to tell them what God wished to say. There are over 50 laws in this portion, ranging from laws concerning murder, injury, theft, care for and destruction of property, negligence, and social justice. There are laws about the punishment fitting the crime, integrity of words and actions, and also about not oppressing a stranger, a widow, or an orphan, those weakest in society. Finally, there are laws about the 3 agricultural pilgrimage holidays and a vision of God, seen by the Moses, Aaron, his two sons, and the 70 elders. In the Zohar, the book of Splendor from the Middle Ages, in the commentary for Mishpatim it says, “when one (Section 2, Page 124a) observes the ordinances of the Torah and diligently studies it, it is as though that one diligently studied the Divine Name. For the whole Torah is an enfolding of the one Divine Name, the most exalted Name, the Name that comprehends all other names;” This poetic comment is at the opposite pole from the actual words in this portion. We can study the laws as they are here given; and either agree with them or disagree with them; and either do them or decide that they have been superseded by advances in society. In this portion we can find the best of the Torah: the striving for social justice; and also the worst of the Torah: those laws about slavery or the possibility of the death penalty for lesser offenses than premeditated murder. This portion begins with laws: with reasonable demands that we can all understand; but ends in a mystical vision: gazing at the appearance of God, God’s throne, and the purity of the sapphire brickwork under the feet of God. Between these two poles: the logical and the mystical, lies the question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” which comes from the story of Cain and Abel in B’reisheet, the first Torah portion. Taking into account the reality stated in the quotation from the Zohar about the Divine Name; everything that is “named” in this portion, in the whole Torah, is God’s Name. Everything that is named, described, and taught, is God, because that’s all there is. The people in this portion: the widow, orphan, and stranger are God. The slave, the pregnant woman, the thief, and the virgin; the seducer and even the donkey crouching under its burden are all God. We are all a tiny part of God; “the name that comprehends all other names.” God is immanent in us, but transcendent over us. So what is the problem that is being set out for us? This portion is, in a sense, not only about action but also about peace. The S’fat Emet quotes the Psalm (29:11), “God will bless God’s people with peace,” and we say in the second Torah blessing, “God has implanted eternal life within us.” Then the S’fat Emet goes on to say, “this well is opened by the peace wrought by these statutes. For this reason the Midrash quotes here, you have established uprightness (Ps 99:4) because these statues lead people to love one another. The problem we must solve, then, is one of coordination: of getting all the parts to work together as a well oiled machine in which all the components are all operating harmoniously toward a productive end. If God is one, then everything is God and the challenge is to have it all working as if we are all one. That can only happen when we take care of each other, are fair to one another, and understand that the welfare of the whole is what we need to be aiming for, not just our own welfare; because our welfare is God’s welfare, is our neighbor’s welfare. When we cause pain, or create untruth, we cause a tear or a hole in the fabric of existence. We cause a breakdown in the oneness and harmony of the working parts, and we, ourselves will experience the pain we cause to another. We ourselves will fall into the hole we have dug or torn. It is all God, and that is why harmony is so important. Disharmony works against existence, against life, against us. Untruth severs the source of the electric current from the light bulb, so it can’t light up. The commandments are given to purify us and the Torah ties them all together so that we have a chance to understand it all. Torah is a reflection of the Oneness of all existence. It explains how all life should work, when it’s working properly. That understanding is so precious for us, because it gives us a chance to be part of a universe that is pulling together and not pulling apart. When we are focused on the welfare of the All, we are given glimpses of Divinity; intimations of the purity that is God and the harmonious, productive place that the world is meant to be. May each of us strive to realize these truths, so that the design of Oneness can become the reality; so that we can work happily, being at One with existence and expressing the harmony of all life.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Are we leading or being led?
This week’s Torah portion is Beshallach, which means, when he sent. When Pharaoh sends the Israelites out of Egypt, God leads them, with a pillar of cloud, away from the coast of the Mediterranean: not North but South. Hemmed in by the Sea of reeds ahead of them and the pursuing Egyptians behind them, the people despair that their lives are over. They cry out of God, who urges them to go forward. And you know the rest. God splits the water. They travel through the sea in safety, but the pursing Egyptian chariots and horsemen drown: the Divine retribution for throwing all male Israelite babies into the Nile. Then the people sing a song of gratitude to God. The beginning verse of this portion reads: “God did not lead them by way of the Philistines, though it was near, for God said, perhaps they will be led, when they see war, to return to Egypt.” And later it says, “God went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to have them led along the way.” And in the song of the Sea, the people sing, “With your kindness you have led this people that you redeemed. You led with your might to your Holy abode.” We can see that being led: God leading us, is prominently featured in this portion. It also says that God took the people around toward the Sea of Reeds. The word around, ya-save, connotes a circle, and in fact, we originated in Canaan and eventually returned to Canaan. The question is, how does all this leading fit in with our conception of Free Will? Are we really choosing or are we being led? We know that we do have free will. We can choose what to say and what to do. We change our reality every day by our choices. The Torah, even at the very beginning of Genesis, takes a stand for the beginning of history and linear progress over the passive acceptance of the ancient idea of the wheel of life: that nothing ever changes and we are merely repeating lives that have been and will ever be the same. There is a story in Midrash about “a king who had a son to whom he wished to bequeath an inheritance, but he argued: ' If I give it to him now that he is small, he will not know how to take care of it; I will therefore wait until my son learns how to write and can understand the value, then I will bequeath it unto him.’ This is what God said: … I had better give them the Torah first and then bring them into the Land.” Midrash Rabbah - Exodus XX:15 This passage speaks about learning and future choice. The Talmud (Er 53b) talks about this too. It says, “I was once on a journey when I noticed a child sitting at a cross-road. By what road, I asked the child, can we go to the town? This one, he replied, is a short way that is long and that one is a long way that is short. I proceeded along the short but long road. When I approached the town I discovered that it was hedged in by gardens and orchards. Turning back I said to him, ‘My child, did you not tell me that this road was short?’ — ‘And’, he replied: ‘did I not also tell you: that it was also long?’ The statement “there is a long way that is short and a short way that is long.” leads us to believe that the destination is the same, but that there are two ways to get there; and choice is at the heart of the difference. The seemingly easy way out of a situation may, at first look more promising than a scrupulously moral, ethical decision. And yet, though we may think it’s the easy way, we are really being led, like pharaoh, to our doom; or like the Israelites who could have gone North, to an insurmountable barrier. In a Biblical sense, we could ask, are we choosing life or choosing death? Perhaps what we are being taught is that certain of our choices are pro-life and lead to progress, while other choices will send us circling back on ourselves so that we end up stuck: unable to make that freeing forward movement that feels good and right. I’ve been speaking about choice seen through a personal lens, but it can also be seen through a collective lens. Martin Luther King said, “On some positions, Cowardice asks the question, "Is it safe?" Expediency asks the question, "Is it politic?" And Vanity comes along and asks the question, "Is it popular?" But Conscience asks the question "Is it right?" And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but we must do it because Conscience tells us it is right.” Heschl spoke about choice in two essays quoted in the collection Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity. He says, “the tragedy of man is that he is so great and that he fails to recognize his greatness. Jean-Paul Sartre has said ‘Man is condemned to be free.’ God has given us choice, the greatest obligation of freedom. God is waiting for us to exercise that choice. (P 218) …This is the decision we have to make: whether our life is to be a pursuit of pleasure or an engagement for service. The world cannot remain a vacuum. Unless we make it an altar to God, it is invaded by demons. This is no time for neutrality (P. 75).”
What is true of the aggregate is also true of the individual. How are we to decide which choices will propel us forward and not back? When the Israelites were paralyzed with fear of the past, represented by Pharaoh’s pursuing army, and also of the future, represented by the Sea of Reeds, they cried out to God, the correct response in this situation. God’s answer was, “let them journey forth.” Choose the future, not the past: not old patterns or going backward. Choose with courage! The Rimanover Rebbe said, “Belief and trust are linked. One who firmly believes also trusts.” We are being led, but how soon we get there and in what way is up to us. Free will determines how our life feels. Does it feel free with the freedom of forward movement, or does it feel like the slavery of being stuck in old patterns and the hopelessness of the repeating wheel of life? The Torah tells us that we are being led toward movement and progress, out of our metaphoric Egypt. The details, the scenery, and the comfort of the journey are in our hands. We are on the way. How long will it take us to get there?
What is true of the aggregate is also true of the individual. How are we to decide which choices will propel us forward and not back? When the Israelites were paralyzed with fear of the past, represented by Pharaoh’s pursuing army, and also of the future, represented by the Sea of Reeds, they cried out to God, the correct response in this situation. God’s answer was, “let them journey forth.” Choose the future, not the past: not old patterns or going backward. Choose with courage! The Rimanover Rebbe said, “Belief and trust are linked. One who firmly believes also trusts.” We are being led, but how soon we get there and in what way is up to us. Free will determines how our life feels. Does it feel free with the freedom of forward movement, or does it feel like the slavery of being stuck in old patterns and the hopelessness of the repeating wheel of life? The Torah tells us that we are being led toward movement and progress, out of our metaphoric Egypt. The details, the scenery, and the comfort of the journey are in our hands. We are on the way. How long will it take us to get there?
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