Being the Oneness | Parshat Matot

The power of decision is to gather together the different strands of who we are – the opinions, feelings, memories, impulses, drives and goals that make up the sometimes conflicting dimensions of “me” – and forge them into a unity through the affirmation of commitment:

אִישׁ֩ כִּֽי־יִדֹּ֨ר נֶ֜דֶר לַֽי–ה–וָ֗–ה אֽוֹ־הִשָּׁ֤בַע שְׁבֻעָה֙ לֶאְסֹ֤ר אִסָּר֙ עַל־נַפְשׁ֔וֹ לֹ֥א יַחֵ֖ל דְּבָר֑וֹ בכְּכָל־הַיֹּצֵ֥א מִפִּ֖יו יַעֲשֶֽׂה׃
If a person vows a vow to the Divine or swears an oath to forbid something to one’s soul, they shall not empty their word; everything that comes from their mouth, so shall they do.
- Bamidbar (Numbers) 30:3

On the surface, this is the mitzvah of having integrity; if you say you are going to do something, do it. Who you are today and who you were yesterday should not be two different things; be your word. This is a basic ethical principle, but it is not merely ethical; it is an embodiment of the spiritual core of Judaism – the affirmation that Hashem Ekhad—God is One. 

Hashem Ekhad can be understood in the ordinary sense of being a creed or belief, affirming the existence of one God rather than many gods. But when we understand that the Divine Name is simply a permutation of the verb “to be” – היה hei-yud-hei – a deeper implication becomes visible: Being Itself is One; there is only One Reality, appearing in countless forms. We cannot “see” this Unity, and our experience over time may seem to defy any sense of unity, and yet: there is only One Reality. This simple fact becomes spiritually significant when the Oneness of Reality becomes our “God” – meaning, we hold up the Unity as our ideal, and hold ourselves accountable to reveal the Unity in our lives. This brings us back to integrity: by being our word, we worship the Oneness; we deify Reality.  

But this is not easy. Anyone who has spent a little time observing the mind knows that we contain many different voices. One part of us makes a commitment while another part immediately begins negotiating with it. One part longs to awaken while another simply wants to remain comfortable. And yet, when we become present, we discover that beneath all of these changing movements there is a radically simple truth: awareness itself is already one. Thoughts come and go, emotions come and go, intentions come and go, but awareness remains the space within which it all lives. We need not strive for this oneness; it is literally what we are. The challenge is forging our lives into an expression of the oneness that is already here.
And yet, there is a dimension of our decision-making that is not within our power. How do we embody Oneness when integrity becomes impossible? 

וְאִם־הֵנִ֨יא אָבִ֣יהָ אֹתָהּ֮ בְּי֣וֹם שׇׁמְעוֹ֒ כׇּל־נְדָרֶ֗יהָ וֶֽאֱסָרֶ֛יהָ אֲשֶׁר־אָסְרָ֥ה עַל־נַפְשָׁ֖הּ לֹ֣א יָק֑וּם וַֽי–הֹ–וָ–ה֙ יִֽסְלַח־לָ֔הּ כִּי־הֵנִ֥יא אָבִ֖יהָ אֹתָֽהּ׃
But if her father restrains her on the day he hears, none of her vows or self-imposed obligations shall stand; Hashem will forgive her, since her father restrained her.
- Bamidbar (Numbers) 30:10

Who actually is this “daughter?” The daughter is us! We are the ones who make sincere commitments, who speak from the deepest truth we know in a given moment, only to discover that circumstances have changed or that life has unfolded differently from how we imagined. The Torah is holding up integrity as a Divine obligation, and yet it is also acknowledging that we are not ultimately in control of Reality.
Who, then, is the “father?”

There is a phrase in the Aleinu prayer: Emet Malkeinu. This is usually translated, “Our King is true.” But a more literal and also infinitely more spiritually useful reading would be: Truth Itself is our King. That is, the truth of this moment, the truth of what actually is, always has the final word. We can make commitments, and we should. We can strive to keep our word, and we should. But the unfolding of Reality belongs to Something infinitely greater than our plans. And this is precisely why the Torah can say, in reference to the daughter who breaks her vow, “Hashem will forgive her.” It is not to negate the importance of integrity as service of the Divine, but because the truth of whatever unfolds is itself not separate from the Divine.  

And this is the paradox: While we are called to take our commitments seriously, we are also called to recognize that we are not in control. We tend to waste energy judging ourselves for not living up to our intentions, imagining that if we were truly awake we would never fail. But forgiving ourselves for not being enlightened is itself a form of enlightenment. The moment we stop arguing with Reality, we can begin to excavate a deeper surrender and humility that aligns with what is actually happening, rather than with the story of how we think things should have happened. This is not a mere self-justification or “letting ourselves off the hook.”  It is simply a letting go. How do we do it?

  לֹֽא־תִקֹּ֤ם וְלֹֽא־תִטֹּר֙ אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י עַמֶּ֔ךָ וְאָֽהַבְתָּ֥ לְרֵעֲךָ֖ כָּמ֑וֹךָ אֲנִ֖י יְ-הֹ-וָֽ-ה׃
You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the children of your people. Love your neighbor as yourself: I am Hashem.
- Vayikra (Leviticus) 19:18

Before this most famous mitzvah to love our neighbor, the Torah first tells us not to take vengeance and not to hold onto resentment, hinting: the same ego that judges others is the ego that judges ourselves. As long as we insist that another person should have been different from who they were, we will continue insisting that we should have been different from who we were. But when we begin to let others be as they are, without carrying the burden of resentment, something within begins to shift. The forgiveness that we extend outwardly is after all, the forgiveness that we are. When we stop struggling against What Happens and instead allow ourselves to meet the moment fully, we discover that forgiveness, love and Presence are not separate practices at all; they are simply different expressions of Being the Oneness.