Parshah Summary – P’shat
Jacob lives the final seventeen years of his life in Egypt. Before his passing, he asks Joseph to take an oath that he will bury him in the Holy Land. He blesses Joseph’s two sons, Menasheh and Ephraim, elevating them to the status of his own sons as progenitors of tribes within the people of Israel. Jacob blesses his own sons as well, assigning to each their role as a tribe, and Reuven, Shimon and Levi are rebuked. Among the blessings, Naphtali is granted the swiftness of a deer, Benjamin the ferociousness of a wolf, and Joseph is blessed with beauty and fertility.
Jacob/Israel then dies. A large funeral procession consisting of Jacob’s descendants, Pharaoh’s ministers, the leading citizens of Egypt and the Egyptian cavalry accompanies Jacob on his final journey to the Holy Land, where he is buried in the Cave of Makhpelah in Hebron. Joseph dies in Egypt, at the age of one hundred and ten. He, too, instructs that his bones be taken out of Egypt and buried in the Holy Land, but this would happen only with the Israelites’ Exodus from Egypt many years later. Before he dies, Joseph tells the Children of Israel: “Hashem will surely remember you, and bring you up out of this land, to the land of your ancestors…”
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
וַיִּשְׁלַח֩ יִשְׂרָאֵ֨ל אֶת־יְמִינ֜וֹ וַיָּ֨שֶׁת עַל־רֹ֤אשׁ אֶפְרַ֙יִם֙ וְה֣וּא הַצָּעִ֔יר וְאֶת־שְׂמֹאל֖וֹ עַל־רֹ֣אשׁ מְנַשֶּׁ֑ה שִׂכֵּל֙ אֶת־יָדָ֔יו כִּ֥י מְנַשֶּׁ֖ה הַבְּכֽוֹר׃ Israel stretched out his right hand and laid it on Ephraim’s head, though he was the younger, and his left hand on Manasseh’s head—thus crossing his hands—although Manasseh was the first-born. - Bereisheet (Genesis) 48:14, Parshat Vayekhi
Rabbi Kalman of Cracow asked Rabbi Hirsh, “What is your way in the avodah of prayer?” He replied, “My Way was shown to me by my teacher, Rabbi Mendel, may he merit life in the World to Come. He taught: concerning manna, it is written: וְיָצָ֨א הָעָ֤ם וְלָֽקְטוּ֙ דְּבַר־י֣וֹם בְּיוֹמ֔וֹ... and the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion on its day… Meaning, every day has its own special ‘portion’ of prayer, and one must discover it again and again, day by day.”
How do we discover this day’s portion of prayer? The moment we ask the question, we have already discovered the prayer; the question itself is the prayer. It’s the same with spiritual awakening: the moment you wish to awaken, you have already awoken to a certain degree. That’s because the desire to awaken can’t even arise at all unless there is already a certain amount of objectivity on your thoughts and feelings. Even if you feel like you are failing, even if you feel that your mind is too busy, or you feel emotionally reactive or whatever, your awareness of that is already a movement in the direction of wakefulness. The key is to use the wakefulness you already have to deepen your wakefulness further, rather than focusing on how not-awake you are: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יה–וה ... הַמַּעֲבִיר שֵׁנָה מֵעֵינַי... – Blessed are You, Hashem… who removes sleep from my eyes… This morning blessing gives thanks for waking up from sleep, but on a deeper level, it is an appreciation of the grace for being awake enough to say the prayer at all! וְדַבְּקֵנוּ בְּמִצְותֶיךָ... – And attach us to your mitzvot (commandments)… Traditionally speaking, the mitzvot, “commandments,” are the actions that God “wants” us to do. So to do a mitzvah, in this traditional view, is to fulfill the meaning of your existence. The deeper desire expressed in this prayer, then, is the longing for meaning: Help me be motivated to fulfill my purpose! This desire for meaning, for purpose, is core to the spiritual drive. But, it is only half of the equation. A little further on it says: וְאַל תַּשְׁלֶט בָּנוּ יֵצֶר הָרָע... – And don’t let the yetzer hara (personal impulses, literally the “bad impulse”) rule within us… The other half of the equation is the desire for freedom, for transcendence. These two core desires that drive the spiritual path are, in a sense, the opposite of one another. The first wants to transform the world; the second wants to transcend the world. The first wants fulfill one’s role; the second wants to be liberated from all roles. The first wants to serve the Divine; the second wants to realize that All is Divine. These two movements, which we might also call Doing and Being, are the opposite of one another, but they are not opposed to one another. In Kabbalah and Hasidic teaching, they must work together. You cannot fully feel that you are doing Divine service if you’re not awake to the Divinity of your own inner being. In Kabbalah, this is called ושוב רץ ratz v’shuv – “running and returning.” In meditation, we “run” – we transcend every particular aspect of experience and know ourselves as the אַיִן ayin, the No-Thing, the open space of this moment within which everything arises. In prayer, we “return” – we appreciate particular things and give thanks; we envision transformation and ask God for help in its manifestation. On a broader level, all spiritual practices, including both prayer and meditation, are a kind of “running,” and our ordinary work and life with people is a kind of “returning.” In Judaism, both are necessary. This theme manifests at all levels of the tradition: Liberation from Egypt, followed by building the Sanctuary. Or, in the opposite order: six days of doing the world, followed by a full day of being, of letting everything be on Shabbat. And, in this last example, we see the emphasis that characterizes Judaism: Six days of Doing, one day of Being – both are necessary, but Doing is emphasized. In many traditions, it’s the opposite: the holy person is the one who transcends the world. But in Judaism, transcendence, while absolutely necessary, is not the goal. These two poles are represented by Joseph’s two sons, M’nasheh and Ephraim. The name M’nasheh comes from “running” – from Being, from leaving the past behind – transcending the world: וַיִּקְרָ֥א יוֹסֵ֛ף אֶת־שֵׁ֥ם הַבְּכ֖וֹר מְנַשֶּׁ֑ה כִּֽי־נַשַּׁ֤נִי אֱלֹהִים֙ אֶת־כָּל־עֲמָלִ֔י וְאֵ֖ת כָּל־בֵּ֥ית אָבִֽי: And Joseph named the firstborn M’nasheh, for “God has caused me to forget all my toil and everything my father’s house.” But Ephraim comes from being “fruitful” – that is, successful – in the world: וְאֵ֛ת שֵׁ֥ם הַשֵּׁנִ֖י קָרָ֣א אֶפְרָ֑יִם כִּֽי־הִפְרַ֥נִי אֱלֹהִ֖ים בְּאֶ֥רֶץ עָנְיִֽי: And the second one he named Ephraim, for “God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction.” וַיִּשְׁלַח֩ יִשְׂרָאֵ֨ל אֶת־יְמִינ֜וֹ... – But Israel stretched out his right hand… M’nasheh is the first born, hinting at the usual way that spirituality is viewed: transcendence is primary. But when Jacob blesses the two boys, he switches his hands to give the blessing of the first born to Ephraim instead. This is why the traditional blessing for boys on Friday nights puts Ephraim first, even though M’nasheh was first born: יְשִׂימְךָ אֱלֹ–הִים כְּאֶפְרַיִם וְכִמְנַשֶּׁה: – May God make you like Ephraim and M’nasheh… Transformation is the goal (Ephraim), but to achieve that goal, transcendence is also necessary (M’nasheh). This is a basic key to living in awakened life: being involved, helping, serving, creating, but also letting go at the same time – accepting everything as it is, not trying to control anything, being the simple, open space of consciousness within which this moment arises. In a sense, these two are not really separate; they form the singular move of Presence in life. But until this becomes integrated into the way we operate, it requires this ratz v’shuv attitude, this oscillation back and forth between effort and letting go. Eventually, this ripens into a sense of effortless effort, of acting in the world without the “me” doing the acting. As Joseph responded to Pharaoh when asked if he could interpret Pharaoh’s dream: בִּלְעָדָ֑י אֱלֹ–הִ֕ים יַֽעֲנֶ֖ה: – It is totally beyond me, but the Divine will answer! There is nothing but the Divine manifesting in all forms, and so from this awakened seeing, there need not be any tension whatsoever – life simply unfolds effortlessly – painfully and tragically, beautifully and magically, it unfolds to the wakeful consciousness that beholds it; this is the Path of ע Ayin, of “simply seeing.”
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Parshah Summary – P’shat
Judah approaches (Vayigash) Joseph to plead for the release of Benjamin, offering himself as a slave to the Egyptian ruler in Benjamin’s stead. Upon witnessing his brothers’ loyalty to one another, Joseph breaks down and reveals his identity to them. “I am Joseph,” he declares. “Is my father still alive?” The brothers are overcome by shame and remorse, but Joseph comforts them. “It was not you who sent me here,” he says to them, “it was all part of the Divine plan, to save us from famine.” The brothers rush back to Canaan with the news. Jacob comes to Egypt with his sons and their families—seventy souls in all—and is reunited with his beloved son after 22 years. On his way to Egypt he receives the Divine promise: “Fear not to go down to Egypt; for I will make you into a great nation there. I will go down with you into Egypt, and I will also surely bring you up again.” Joseph gathers the wealth of Egypt by selling food and seed during the famine. Pharaoh gives Jacob’s family the fertile region of Goshen to settle, and the children of Israel prosper in their Egyptian exile…
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יוֹסֵ֧ף אֶל־אֶחָ֛יו גְּשׁוּ־נָ֥א אֵלַ֖י וַיִּגָּ֑שׁוּ וַיֹּ֗אמֶר אֲנִי֙ יוֹסֵ֣ף אֲחִיכֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁר־מְכַרְתֶּ֥ם אֹתִ֖י מִצְרָֽיְמָה׃ Joseph said to his brothers, “Please approach me.” And when they approached, he said, “I am your brother Joseph, he whom you sold into Egypt.” - Bereisheet (Genesis) 45:4, Parshat Vayigash
Rabbi Yehoshua Heschel of Apt said, “A person should be like a vessel that willingly receives whatever its owner pours into it, whether it be wine or vinegar.”
What does this teaching mean? At this time of year, I once saw a production of the Nutcracker – the dancers were wonderful, especially the many little children; but, I was most impressed by the sets. One moment the entire enormous stage looked like the inside of a fancy mansion, and the next moment the mansion set lifted into the air and was replaced by a winter wonderland. This happened several more times; one set flew away and another completely different scene manifested. It was hard to believe that all those different sets could fit somewhere above the stage, out of sight. Each one looked so substantial; the change from one set to another in a few seconds was truly magical. And so it is with our experiences as well. The winter sky is often cloudy – our perception of the dampened sunlight and the cold, moist December air can reflect as a somewhat muted emotional tone within; the outside is reflected on the inside. And when, at some point, the clouds part and the sunlight breaks through, our inner world is instantly changed as well – light on the outside, light on the inside. And so it is with all experience; the changing of the “weather” is happening on all levels, all the time. Of course, we are not merely passive. The “weather patterns” of experience are not merely happening to us; there are many ways we can and must regulate our experience. We certainly can choose to “drink” the “wine,” while pouring the “vinegar” down the sink. And yet, in this moment, a certain experience is already manifest. We can steer the experience in certain ways as we move into the future, but for now, this is what we must be with; the “wine” or “vinegar” has already been “poured.” If we do not willingly receive this moment as it is, we create resistance, stress, dis-ease. But if we do open to this moment as it is without judgment (even as we may intelligently steer into the future with judgment), then there is a deeper magic that can manifest: we can come to know ourselves as the vessel – this is meditation. After all, what is a vessel? It is just an open space. The point is that on the deepest level of our being, we are simple openness; we are the “stage” upon which an infinite number of different “sets” are assembled and disassembled, sometimes instantaneously. You are not the clouds or the sunlight penetrating the clouds; you are the openness of this moment, within which everything is unfolding. And, as it turns out, when we are open to both the wine and the vinegar, there is a deeper “wine” that can reveal itself; a deeper “sunlight” that shines from within. גְּשׁוּ־נָ֥א אֵלַ֖י –“Please approach me…” To “approach” is the opposite of resisting. And just as Joseph reveals his true identity to his brothers when they approach, so too when we “approach” this moment with openness, we can come to see that this experience is also our “brother” – whatever quality is present, be it “vinegar” or “wine,” is arising within the field of consciousness that we are. In fact, every experience is only a form – a “disguise” – of our own consciousness. Come to this moment and see – all experiences are forms of consciousness, and consciousness is nothing but the Divine, alive and awake within you, as you. וַיִּגַּ֨שׁ אֵלָ֜יו יְהוּדָ֗ה – And Judah approached… It is the name of Joseph’s brother Judah, Yehudah, from which we derive one of our names: Jew – hinting that, at the core of what it means to be a Jew and to practice Judaism, is the way we approach the moment. וַיִּגַּשׁ Vayigash is composed of ו vav, י yud, ג gimel and ש shin. Vav ו means “and” – saying “yes and” to whatever is present; this is acceptance, non-resistance. Yud י is the smallest of the letters, and it is the shape made by the pen as it begins to draw any of the letters; in this sense, it is like a “seed” that “grows” into all the many spiritual qualities represented by the other otiyot. Like a point having no dimension, it is simplicity and, most importantly, trust – trusting that this moment, however problematic, contains within it the “seeds” of positive transformation – just as Joseph affirmed that his brothers’ crimes toward him and his resulting suffering was all so that he might later save them from starvation. Gimel ג begins the word גָדוֹל gadol, “great” – indicating the quality of Completeness or Wholeness, of having fully arrived into the present. This is the fruit of meditation. Finally, Shin ש represents “fire,” counterbalancing the Gimel ג. Even as we arrive into the Fullness of the Present and feel the Wholeness of our essential being as formless awareness, we still must remain alert; the moment is ever in an state of change. Like a cat watching a mouse hole, there can be full stillness and attention together with readiness – with wakefulness to whatever is about to unfold, so that the inner Wholeness we are can express itself in responsibility – consciousness in action – this is the practice of Judaism. In this way, we can fully receive the truth of our situation – that we are both the awareness of what arises, the stage upon which the action unfolds, be it “wine” or “vinegar,” and also an actor upon the stage, with the power to choose “wine” over “vinegar.” This is both the gift of being human, and the meaning of being a Jew, a spiritual descendent of יְהוּדָה Yehudah – which comes from אוֹדֶ֣ה אֶת־יְהֹ–וָה odeh et Hashem – “I will thank God.”
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Parshah Summary – P’shat
Joseph’s imprisonment finally ends when Pharaoh dreams of seven fat cows that are swallowed up by seven lean cows, and then of seven fat ears of grain swallowed by seven lean ears. Joseph interprets the dreams to mean that seven years of plenty will be followed by seven years of hunger, and advises Pharaoh to store grain during the plentiful years. Pharaoh is pleased with Joseph’s advice and appoints him governor of Egypt. Joseph marries Asnat, daughter of Potiphar, and they have two sons, Menasheh and Ephraim.
In time, as the famine spreads throughout the region, food can be obtained only in Egypt. Ten of Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt to purchase grain; the youngest, Benjamin, stays home, for Jacob fears for his safety. Joseph recognizes his brothers, but they do not recognize him; he accuses them of being spies, insists that they bring Benjamin to prove that they are who they say they are, and imprisons Shimon as a hostage. Later, they discover that the money they paid for their provisions has been mysteriously returned to them. Jacob agrees to send Benjamin only after Judah assumes personal responsibility for him. This time Joseph receives them kindly, releases Shimon, and invites them to dinner at his home. But then he plants his special silver goblet in Benjamin’s sack. When the brothers set out for home the next morning, they are pursued, searched, and arrested when the goblet is discovered. Joseph offers to set them free and retain only Benjamin as his slave.
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
וַיְהִ֕י מִקֵּ֖ץ שְׁנָתַ֣יִם יָמִ֑ים וּפַרְעֹ֣ה חֹלֵ֔ם וְהִנֵּ֖ה עֹמֵ֥ד עַל־הַיְאֹֽר׃ And it was at the end of two years to the day, Pharaoh dreamed, and behold – he was standing by the Nile… - Bereisheet (Genesis) 41:1, Parshat Mikeitz
Rabbi Elazar fell ill. His teacher Rabbi Yoḥanan came to visit and found him lying in a dark room, so he uncovered his arm, which miraculously beamed forth light and illuminated the whole house. Then he could see that Rabbi Elazar was weeping. He asked, “Why do you cry? If it is because you did not study enough Torah, we have learned: One who brings a substantial sacrifice and one who brings a meager sacrifice have equal merit, as long as one directs their heart toward Heaven. If it is because of your great poverty, we have learned: not every person merits to eat off of two tables. And if you are crying over the deaths of your children, this is the bone of my tenth son.”
Rabbi Elazar replied, “I am not crying over my misfortune, but rather, over this beauty of yours that will decompose in the earth.” Rabbi Yoḥanan said to him, “Over this, it is certainly appropriate to cry.” And they both broke down and cried together. - Talmud, Berakhot 5b In the story, Rabbi Yoḥanan considered three possible reasons for Rabbi Elazar’s sorrow: self-judgment (not learning enough), self-lack (poverty) and the sorrow of loss (the deaths of his children). He then offers consolation for each possible reason. But when Rabbi Elazar reveals the true reason, that Rabbi Yoḥanan’s beauty will turn to dust, Rabbi Yoḥanan approves, and they both share the sorrow. הֲבֵ֤ל הֲבָלִים֙ אָמַ֣ר קֹהֶ֔לֶת הֲבֵ֥ל הֲבָלִ֖ים הַכֹּ֥ל הָֽבֶל׃ “Vanity of Vanities,” said The Preacher, “Vanity of Vanities, all is vanity.” - Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) 1:2 The fact of change and the temporary nature of all things is the beginning of King Solomon’s treatise on human existence as well. And yet, despite the dark tone of his book, he does, in fact, supply a solution: כֹּ֠ל אֲשֶׁ֨ר תִּמְצָ֧א יָֽדְךָ֛ לַעֲשׂ֥וֹת בְּכֹחֲךָ֖ עֲשֵׂ֑ה... Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might… In other words, the solution to the sorrow of the havel is: don’t put your energy and focus on the future, but on the task of the moment; that is, be present. This is the essence of meditation. תִּמְצָ֧א יָֽדְךָ֛ לַעֲשׂ֥וֹת – your hand finds to do… Furthermore, meditation is not philosophical concept; it is completely practical – it is the application of awareness and focus on whatever we are doing, Now. וַיְהִ֕י מִקֵּ֖ץ שְׁנָתַ֣יִם יָמִ֑ים – And it was at the end of two years to the day… Mikeitz means “at the end” – referring to the end of a two-year period after which Pharaoh had the dream about the cows וַיִּיקַ֖ץ פַּרְעֹֽה – Pharaoh awakened… But when Pharaoh wakes up from his dream, the same word is used again in a different form: Vayikatz Paro, hinting: to “awaken” is for our “dream” of the future to come to an end. For most of us, there is no awareness of dreaming while we’re dreaming; it’s only in waking up that we realize, “Oh, it was only a dream.” We say, “Only a dream” because it has no external reality; it is just an experience generated by the mind. Then, when we wake up, we become aware of what is actually going on. Life is real, and unlike the dream, there are real consequences in the world external to your mind. And yet, as King Solomon seeks to correct, there is also the waking dream of life, the illusion of permanence to things. When we wake up from this illusion, it can be a big disappointment. Like the weeping of the rabbis and the overall dark tone of Ecclesiastes, the function of the dream was to provide comfort גַּלְיֵיהּ לִדְרָעֵיהּ וּנְפַל נְהוֹרָא – he exposed his arm, and light filled the house… But, there is a deeper dimension to waking up which is hinted at by both Solomon’s advice and the “illuminating arm” of Jewish meditation in action. Right now, your awareness perceives the richness of this moment – the activity and movement, the objects and beings in space, the sense of your body, your feelings and your thoughts. Ordinarily, you perceive some things as external to you, such as these words right now, and some things as internal to you, such as your thoughts. There are physical things “out there,” and emotional and mental things “in here.” But notice: everything in your perception, from the ground under your feet to the clouds in the sky to the feelings in your gut, are all nothing but consciousness, exactly like a dream. This recognition means that when you judge people, or complain, or in any way resist the truth of whatever arises in the moment, you’re actually resisting yourself – you’re creating a split within yourself, which creates a sense of being not whole, of being incomplete. And that’s the dream – that’s the illusion – we tend to think that we need something “out there” to change in order to feel whole or complete “in here.” Just like the gaunt and hungry cows who eat up the full cows, we will never satisfied if we’re constantly “pulling away” from ourselves, creating an inner split. But when we awaken to realize that everything “out there” is always only perceived “in here,” then we can relax and accept everything in our experience as forms of our own being. When we do that, our consciousness that has become split in two can merge back into oneness, bringing that sense of inner duality to an end. And this is the deeper reason why the word for “awaken” is also the word for “ending” – קץ katz – because it is an end to inner duality. It’s also an end to the mental creation of time, because in Presence, there is no longer any journey toward wholeness or fulfilment; Wholeness is simply what we are when we stop pulling ourselves apart. And they both broke down and cried together… And yet, paradoxically, it is the full feeling of our sorrow that grants access to depths of Wholeness beyond all emotion; this is the Portal of א Aleph the leads to the Portal of ג Gimel.
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Parshah Summary – P’shat
The parshah opens with Jacob/Israel and his family settling in Hebron. Joseph is his most beloved son, so he makes him a special multi-colored coat, which sparks jealousy in the other brothers. Joseph then tells his brothers two of his dreams which foretell that he is destined to rule over them, increasing their envy and hatred toward him even more. Shimon and Levi plot to kill him, but Reuven suggests that they throw him into a pit instead, intending to come back later and save him. The brothers strip Joseph of his special coat and throw him into the pit. Later, Judah convinces the other brothers to sell him to a band of passing Ishmaelites. The brothers then smear Joseph’s special coat with the blood of a goat and show it to their father, misleading him to believe that his most beloved son was devoured by a wild beast.
The text then shifts to Judah, who marries and has three sons. The eldest, Er, marries a woman named Tamar, but then he dies. So, Tamar then marries the second son, Onan, but Onan also dies. Judah is reluctant for his third son to marry Tamar, so she disguises herself as a prostitute and seduces Judah instead. Judah hears that his daughter-in-law has become pregnant and accuses her of harlotry, but when Tamar produces the personal objects he left with her as a pledge for payment, he publicly admits that he is the father. Tamar gives birth to twin sons, Peretz (an ancestor of King David) and Zerakh. Joseph is taken to Egypt and sold to Potiphar, the minister in charge of Pharaoh’s slaughterhouses. God blesses everything Joseph does, and soon he is made overseer of all his master’s property. Potiphar’s wife tries to seduce Joseph, and when Joseph rejects her advances, she tells her husband that the Hebrew slave tried to force himself upon her, and has him thrown into prison. Joseph gains the trust and admiration of his jailers, who appoint him to a position of authority over the other prisoners. During this time, Joseph meets Pharaoh’s chief butler and baker, who were both imprisoned for some offense. They tell Joseph about some disturbing dreams they have been having, which he interprets: in three days, he tells them, the butler will be released and the baker hanged. Joseph asks the butler to intercede on his behalf with Pharaoh. When the predictions are fulfilled, the butler forgets all about Joseph and does nothing for him.
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
וְיִשְׂרָאֵ֗ל אָהַ֤ב אֶת־יוֹסֵף֙ מִכׇּל־בָּנָ֔יו כִּֽי־בֶן־זְקֻנִ֥ים ה֖וּא ל֑וֹ וְעָ֥שָׂה ל֖וֹ כְּתֹ֥נֶת פַּסִּֽים׃ וַיִּרְא֣וּ אֶחָ֗יו כִּֽי־אֹת֞וֹ אָהַ֤ב אֲבִיהֶם֙ מִכׇּל־אֶחָ֔יו וַֽיִּשְׂנְא֖וּ אֹת֑וֹ וְלֹ֥א יָכְל֖וּ דַּבְּר֥וֹ לְשָׁלֹֽם׃ Now Israel loved Joseph best of all his sons—he was his “child of old age”; and he had made him an ornamented tunic. And when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than they, they hated him so that they could not speak a friendly word to him. - Bereisheet (Genesis) 37:4-5, Parshat Vayeishev
Rabbi Nahum of Stepinesht once said of his brother, Rabbi David Moshe of Tchortkov, “My brother is the one spoken of in the verse:
אֲסַפְּרָ֗ה אֶֽ֫ל חֹ֥ק יְֽהוָ֗ה אָמַ֘ר אֵלַ֥י בְּנִ֥י אַ֑תָּה אֲ֝נִ֗י הַיּ֥וֹם יְלִדְתִּֽיךָ׃ I am obligated to proclaim: The Divine says to me, ‘You are My child, today I give birth to you…’ - Psalm 2:7 “And when my brother chants from the Book of Psalms, Hashem calls to him: ‘David Moshe my son, I am putting the whole world into your hands – now do with it whatever you like.’ Oh, if only Hashem gave the world to me, I would know very well what to do with it! But David Moshe is so faithful a servant that when he gives it back, it is exactly as it was when he received it.” This anecdote of Rabbi Nahum is strange; it seems to say that non-action is a virtue, that one who does nothing to improve the world is better than one who tries to improve the world. How can this be? There is a hint is Joseph’s response to a request for interpreting dreams: הֲל֤וֹא לֵֽאלֹהִים֙ פִּתְרֹנִ֔ים: – Don’t interpretations belong to God? - Bereisheet (Genesis) 40:8 When Joseph is thrown into the dungeon, two prisoners come to him with their disturbing dreams, hoping that Joseph will interpret them. But Joseph clarifies: his ability to see the meanings of their dreams is a gift that comes from beyond; it’s not really his own doing. But what actually is a dream anyway? A dream is an experience we have when we’re sleeping, an experience that seems real when it’s happening, but turns out to be a projection of the mind. Similarly, our waking experiences too are comprehensible only because our minds project onto them a connected narrative. In order to do that, we need to be “asleep” to much of what is going on, so that the mind focus in and piece together a story that makes sense. And, central to that story is character of “I.” From our ordinary state of mind, in which we are mostly asleep, it seems that there is this “I” that does things, that acts on the world, that causes things to happen. But what really is this “I?” The “I” seems discreet and separate, but this is part of the dream, part of the narrative. In reality, everything is part of one unfolding; everything is really only ever different modulations of Existence, of Being, of God. This is the point of meditation: to “wake up” from this dream of the separate “I” into the Oneness that includes all things. And so, on this level, Joseph is saying: Isn’t this dream of life we are having correctly interpreted as the drama of God? Are we not witnessing, right now, the unfolding of the Divine in and as the world? From this point of view, Rabbi David Moshe isn’t being lauded by his brother for not doing anything, but rather for not seeing himself as the doer; he “gives the world back exactly as it was when he received it” – meaning, he gives credit back to God for what happens, just as Joseph does. This is why Joseph is able to endure such extreme hardship without any complaint; he receives everything from the Hands of God, including his own dreams, from which he knows that he will one day attain greatness. This is the foundation of his unwavering persistence through all his hardships; he is like cream, always rising to the top. Because when the world seems to hate him, he still regards himself as beloved by the Root of All Worlds. וְיִשְׂרָאֵ֗ל אָהַ֤ב אֶת־יוֹסֵף֙ – Now Israel loved Joseph… “Israel” means “wrestles” or “strives for God”– in other words, Joseph’s sees through the surface of things to the Divine love underneath, even though his experience of the world seems to be the opposite. וַֽיִּשְׂנְא֖וּ אֹת֑וֹ …וַיִּרְא֣וּ אֶחָ֗יו – And his brothers saw…and they hated him… “Brothers” represents the things and beings in the horizontal dimension of experience – the forms we encounter in time. But “Israel,” the “Father,” represents the vertical dimension of experience – our encounter with Timeless that abides within and as all things. This is the great skill of the spirit that we are called upon to develop: to know the love that flows from Being, even when hatred seems to flow from many beings. And through drawing on that Inexhaustible Love, bring the Eternal into the temporal by persisting in our meditation and in our lives with the undying quality of Netzakh.
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Parshah Summary – P’shat
The parshah opens with Jacob returning home to the land of Canaan after a 20-year stay in Haran. He sends angels ahead of him to meet his brother Esau in hope of a reconciliation, but they return to report that Esau is on the warpath with 400 armed men. Jacob prepares for battle, but also sends Esau a large gift (consisting of hundreds of heads of livestock) to appease him, and then intensely prays for salvation. That night, Jacob sends his family and possessions across the Jabbok River, while he remains behind and encounters a mysterious being with whom he wrestles until daybreak. Jacob suffers a dislocated hip but vanquishes the supernal creature, who bestows upon him the name Yisrael, Israel. When Jacob and Esau finally meet, they break down crying and make peace, hugging and kissing, and then part ways. Jacob purchases a plot of land near Sh’khem, whose crown prince—also called Sh’khem—abducts and violates Jacob’s daughter Dinah. Dinah’s brothers Shimon and Levi avenge the crime by killing all male inhabitants of the city, after rendering them vulnerable by convincing them to circumcise themselves in order to intermarry with them. Jacob admonishes his sons for their violence, and again fearing for his life after what they have done, Jacob and his family flee. Rachel dies while giving birth to her second son, Benjamin, and is buried in a roadside grave near Bethlehem. Jacob arrives in Hebron, to his father Isaac, who later dies at age 180.
Torah of Awakening
:וַיֹּ֗אמֶר לֹ֤א יַֽעֲקֹב֙ יֵֽאָמֵ֥ר עוֹד֙ שִׁמְךָ֔ כִּ֖י אִם־יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל כִּֽי־שָׂרִ֧יתָ עִם־אֱלֹהִ֛ים וְעִם־אֲנָשִׁ֖ים וַתּוּכָֽל He said, “No longer shall your name be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have wrestled with God and with humans and you have prevailed!” - Bereisheet (Genesis) 32:4, Parshat Vayikhlakh
Once, when Rabbi Avraham Yehoshua of Apt came to visit a certain town to teach, two men competed to have the rabbi stay with them. Both homes were equally roomy and comfortable, and in both households, all the halakhot – the rules of conduct around kashrut and Shabbat – were observed with meticulous exactness. The only difference was that one of the men had a bad reputation for his many love affairs and other self-indulgent habits. Because of this, he thought of himself as a weak and flawed being. But in contrast, the other fellow was perfect in his conduct, and he knew it. He walked around proudly, thoroughly aware of his spotless purity.
The rabbi chose the house of the man with the bad reputation. When asked the reason for his choice, he answered that in the Talmud [Sotah 5a:14], it says: Rabbi Hisda said… “Every person in whom there is arrogance of spirit, the Holy Blessed One says, ‘I and he cannot both dwell in the world.’” “And,” continued the rabbi, “if the Holy Blessed One can’t share space with an arrogant person, then how could I? We read in the Torah, on the other hand, that Hashem: הַשֹּׁכֵ֣ן אִתָּ֔ם בְּת֖וֹךְ טֻמְאֹתָֽם – dwells with them in the midst of their impurity. [Lev. 16:16] And if Hashem takes lodgings there, why shouldn’t I?” The Divine cannot “dwell” with the arrogant person, because their spirituality has become “spoiled.” Like food that has been left out of the fridge, the dangerous “bacteria” of ego has “fed” upon the experience of the spirit and assimilated it into itself. When spirituality is “fresh” – meaning, it is grounded in an attitude of openness and humility, then it serves as nourishment for the soul. If we wish to keep it “fresh,” we must remember: thinking of oneself as “spiritual” and therefore special or superior is a source of arrogance; that’s how spirituality becomes “rotten.” To prevent this tragedy, we need some kind of “preservative.” What is the preservative? Sin! An amazing, radical teaching: Yes, “sin” is, by definition, wrong action. It is not in any way nourishing, just like preservatives in food are not nourishing for the body. And yet, it can actually prevent “rottenness” of the spirit, by helping us to conquer arrogance. After all, what is arrogance really? Arrogance is not merely a positive self-image; it is, rather, entitled expectation. Meditation, on the deepest level, is about dropping all expectation. When we’re successful in that, there can be a genuine coming into the moment, an arrival into the sacred space of the Present. And yet, in that experience, there also can then arise a very subtle form of expectation that creeps in without our even knowing it; this is spiritualized arrogance, the expectation that others should see us as special. And even more importantly, it is the expectation that we are somehow entitled to the spiritual bliss, that now it is ours for good. But if we reflect on our own imperfections, bringing to mind that we have made many errors and aren’t entitled to anything in particular, then we can paradoxically remain connected to the root, even when our branches falter. :וַיִּירָ֧א יַֽעֲקֹ֛ב מְאֹ֖ד וַיֵּ֣צֶר ל֑וֹ וַיַּ֜חַץ אֶת־הָעָ֣ם ...לִשְׁנֵ֥י מַֽחֲנֽוֹת Jacob became very frightened and distressed, so he divided the people who were with him… into two camps. On a metaphorical level, יַּחַץ – dividing – means separating his two different attitudes toward his predicament: part of his wants to simply trust in God, but part of him isn’t sure; he feels insecure. Furthermore, his insecurity is actually the deepest nature of existence: all things, all beings, are completely insecure. Nothing is guaranteed. There may be a deep desire to trust, to believe that we have some kind of Divine protection, but this kind of trust is arrogance; if we’re honest, we must admit that insecurity is the Truth. How can we reconcile the fact of insecurity with the spiritual quality of Trust? :וַיִּוָּתֵ֥ר יַֽעֲקֹ֖ב לְבַדּ֑וֹ וַיֵּֽאָבֵ֥ק אִישׁ֙ עִמּ֔וֹ עַ֖ד עֲל֥וֹת הַשָּֽׁחַר And Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until the rising of dawn. These two sides of his being wrestled, until the “arising of the dawn” – that is, until illumination occurred. He had done everything he could – he sent gifts to his brother, he split up his camp, he prayed for safety – now it was time to surrender, and in that surrender, to conquer: :וַיֹּ֗אמֶר לֹ֤א יַֽעֲקֹב֙ יֵֽאָמֵ֥ר עוֹד֙ שִׁמְךָ֔ כִּ֖י אִם־יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל כִּֽי־שָׂרִ֧יתָ עִם־אֱלֹהִ֛ים וְעִם־אֲנָשִׁ֖ים וַתּוּכָֽל He said, “No longer shall your name be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have wrestled with (your) Divine (nature) and (your) human (nature), and you have prevailed!” Through his human nature, through his profound insecurity, he reached the true kind of trust – not trust in a particular outcome, but trust in Reality Itself, trust in the moment is as it is, and as it will be. Thus, through his human nature, he reached his Divine nature. This is our potential as well: first, to do everything we can to secure the outcome we want – pray, send gifts, work hard, all of it. But then, let go and trust. Embrace and relax into the insecurity, into the unknown, and into the true and actual security that isn’t about what we want; it’s about connecting with the truth of this moment, beautiful and fragile and tragic and miraculous. And in doing so, faith and uncertainty become one, and there is true peace with What Is; this is the Path of י Yud, of Trust and Simplicity: :וַיָּ֨רָץ עֵשָׂ֤ו לִקְרָאתוֹ֙ וַיְחַבְּקֵ֔הוּ וַיִּפֹּ֥ל עַל־צַוָּארָ֖יו וַֹיִֹשָֹׁקֵֹ֑הֹוֹּ וַיִּבְכּֽוּ And Esau ran to greet him and embraced him, and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept…
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Parshah Summary – P’sha
The parshah opens with Yitzhak/Isaac praying for a child after Rivkah/ Rebecca had been unable to conceive, and immediately his prayer is answered. But, she experiences difficult pregnancy as the “children struggle inside her.” She prays that the cause of her suffering be revealed, and Hashem responds that “two nations in your womb.” Esav/Esau emerges first, and Yaakov/Jacob is born clutching Esau’s heel. (Yaakov, Jacob, means “heal.”) As they grow up, Isaac favors Esau, but Rebecca loves Jacob more. One day, when Esau returns home exhausted and hungry from the hunt, he sells his birthright to Jacob for a pot of red lentil stew.
In Gerar, in the land of the Philistines, Isaac presents Rebecca as his sister, out of fear that he will be killed by someone coveting her beauty. He farms the land, reopens the wells dug by his father Abraham, and digs a series of his own wells, and Esau marries two Hittite women. Isaac grows old and blind, and wants to bless his first born Esau before he dies. While Esau goes off to hunt for his father’s favorite food, Rebecca dresses Jacob in Esau’s clothing, covers his arms and neck with goatskins to simulate the feel of his hairier brother, prepares a similar dish, and sends Jacob to his father. Jacob receives his father’s blessings for “the dew of the heaven and the fat of the land,” as well as mastery over his brother. When Esau returns and the deception is revealed, Isaac blesses him as well with the “fat of the earth and dew of the heaven,” but also that he shall live by the sword and serve his brother, though there will come a time when he will “break the yoke” from his neck. Jacob leaves home for Haran to flee Esau’s wrath and to find a wife in the family of his mother’s brother, Lavan/ Laban. Esau marries a third wife--Makhalat, the daughter of Ishmael…
Torah of Awakening
וַיִּתְרֹֽצְצ֤וּ הַבָּנִים֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ וַתֹּ֣אמֶר אִם־כֵּ֔ן לָ֥מָּה זֶּ֖ה אָנֹ֑כִי וַתֵּ֖לֶךְ לִדְרֹ֥שׁ אֶת־יְהֹוָֽה׃ וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יְה–ֹוָ֜ה לָ֗הּ שְׁנֵ֤י גוֹיִם֙ בְּבִטְנֵ֔ךְ... The children struggled within her, and she said, “If so, why am I like this?” So she went to inquire of the Divine. Hashem said to her, “Two nations are in your womb…” - Bereisheet (Genesis) 25:22-23
A young man came to the rabbi of Rizhyn with a question: “What can I do to break all of my distracting impulses that keep me in a state of restless anxiety and sorrow, so that I may have true inner peace?” The rabbi chuckled and his eyes twinkled: “You want to break your impulses? You will break your back and hip, but you will never break your impulses! Nevertheless, if you meditate and learn and pray in a spirit of simplicity, your distracting impulses will vanish on their own.”
There is a paradox in the rabbi’s answer. On one hand, he is instructing that we should meditate with a spirit of simplicity. But isn’t the very organizing of our lives to accommodate spiritual practice itself a complex matter? וַיִּתְרֹֽצְצ֤וּ הַבָּנִים֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ – The children struggled within her… The conflict between Yaakov and Esav within Rivkah’s womb can be seen as embodying this fundamental paradox: וַיְהִ֣י עֵשָׂ֗ו אִ֛ישׁ יֹדֵ֥עַ צַ֖יִד – Esav became a man knowing the hunt… “Knowing the hunt” means complexity – it means using the mind to extract benefit from the world. Just as the hunter uses knowledge to go out into nature and kill animals for sustenance, so too we, from the moment we wake up every day, must use our intelligence to navigate the complexities of the world and “capture” what we need from it…. וְיַעֲקֹב֙ אִ֣ישׁ תָּ֔ם יֹשֵׁ֖ב אֹהָלִֽים׃ – Yaakov was a simple man, dwelling in tents… The word “simple,” תָּם tam, conveys the opposite of the cunning we need to secure benefit from the world; it implies accepting the world as it is. This attitude of acceptance is the quality necessary for recognizing the dimension of reality we call the Divine, which is represented by אֹהָלִֽים ohalim, “tents.” We see this understanding of תָּם tam explicitly in the psalm: מִי־יָג֣וּר בְּאָהֳלֶ֑ךָ: הוֹלֵ֣ךְ תָּ֭מִים... Who may dwell in Your (God’s) tent? One who walks in simplicity (tamim)… - Psalm 15 We can also see the connection between “tent” and the Divine in the words themselves, which are exactly the same letters, in a slightly different order: אֱלֹהִים Elohim – God אֹהָלִֽים Ohalim – tents And this is the paradox, the inner duality of being human: to exist in this world, we must cultivate intelligence for navigating and extracting what we need. And yet, if we wish to enjoy the fruits of the spirit, we must also learn to “dwell” in the deepest level of our being, that simple, open space of consciousness which is tam by nature; we must learn to dwell in the אֹהָלִֽים ohalim of אֱלֹהִים Elohim, the “tents” of the God. But how can we do this, if we are immersed in a world that requires being an אִ֛ישׁ יֹדֵ֥עַ צַ֖יִד ish yodea tzayid, using our minds to navigate the “hunt”? וְאֵ֗ת עֹרֹת֙ גְּדָיֵ֣י הָֽעִזִּ֔ים הִלְבִּ֖ישָׁה עַל־יָדָ֑יו וְעַ֖ל חֶלְקַ֥ת צַוָּארָֽיו׃ She covered his hands and the hairless part of his neck with the skins of goats… Just as Yaakov tricks his father Yitzhak by disguising himself as Esav in order to steal the blessing, so it with us: If we wish to “steal” the blessing that transcends the world, we must “disguise” our practice in the clothing of the world; we must treat it as an agenda on the to-do list. This is counterintuitive and difficult for many people. We tend to not want spirituality to just another thing on the to-do list. Presence is not an agenda; Presence does not get you somewhere; it’s not an achievement, it’s not a badge you can wear, it’s not something you can accomplish and then cross off your bucket list. Presence is a way of Being. It is an approach to this moment right now that sets you free. And, as such, it very easily gets psychologically overshadowed by nearly everything else in life. It’s not hard at all to taste the freedom of Presence, but it can seem nearly impossible to make it into a Way of Being, rather than just an occasional experience, until you learn the Art of Disguise. Meaning: we must “dress us” Presence in the clothing of time-bound agendas. That means, prioritizing: setting aside time for meditation and prayer, perhaps even setting aside time to revisit and absorb this lesson. You’ve got to work it into your schedule, just like everything else, even though it’s fundamentally not like anything else. And this brings us to the second strategy: once we prioritize spirituality, how do we motivate ourselves? Just as Yaakov wouldn’t give Eisav any stew until he gave up his birthright, so too, we can use our natural impulses as a cue to surrender, to become תָּם tam. You have an impulse to eat, to satisfy your hunger? First, stop. Say a brakhah. Realize that it’s not a given that we should always have food to eat. Realize that this moment could be your last, that this moment is all we truly have. Give thanks for the gift of nourishment, and for the privilege of Being. Then eat; then give Eisav his stew. But this strategy can go far beyond saying a brakhah before you eat. You can take any of your common activities, and attach them to taking a moment of Presence, so that Presence becomes habit. Before bed at night, you can stop and meditate even for a few moments. However it works for you, the key is to train yourself, just like you would a child. You might feel lazy or you might feel that everything else is more important, but if you want real transformation, you’ve got to make Presence into a regular habit. Disguise it as an agenda and trick yourself into doing it! This is Netzakh, the sefirah of Persistence. Then, once you’re inside it, surrender; become תָּם tam; this is Hod, the sefirah of gratitude and surrender. Because in this moment, there is no agenda, there is no movement, there is no time. There is only the blessed space of Being within which everything is unfolding, and you are that blessed space.
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Parshah Summary – P’shat
The parshah opens with Abraham sitting by his tent on a hot day, when suddenly Hashem appears to him. He looks up and sees three mysterious guests (later described as angels), so he rushes off to prepare a meal for them. One of the guests announces that the old and barren Sarah will give birth to a son! Sarah laughs, hinting at the name of their future son, Yitzhak, Isaac, which means “will laugh.” It is revealed to Abraham that the wicked city of Sodom is to be destroyed, but he pleads with Hashem to relent and not punish the innocent along with the guilty. Hashem agrees not to destroy the city if ten innocent people are found, but they are not.
Two of the three angels arrive in the doomed city, and Abraham’s nephew Lot invites them in and attempts to protect them from a violent mob. The angels reveal their destructive mission, instructing Lot and his family to flee and not look back. But, as they flee, Lot’s wife does look back and turns into a pillar of salt. While taking shelter in a cave, Lot’s two daughters (believing that they and their father are the only ones left alive in the world) get their father drunk and become impregnated by him. The two sons born from this incestuous incident become the progenitors of the nations of Moab and Ammon. Avraham moves to Gerar, where the Philistine king Abimelech takes Sarah—who is once again presented as Abraham’s sister—to his palace. In a dream, God warns Abimelech that he will die unless he returns the woman to her husband. Abimelech confronts Avraham, who once again explains that he feared he would be killed over the beautiful Sarah. Sarah miraculously becomes pregnant and gives birth to Yitzhak, Isaac. Avraham is one hundred years old and Sarah is ninety when Yitzhak is born and circumcised at the age of eight days. Yishmael torments Sarah, so Sarah banishes Hagar and Yishmael from their home to wander in the desert, and Yishmael nearly dies of dehydration. Hashem hears the cry of the dying lad, shows his mother a well and they are saved. Meanwhile, Abimelech makes a treaty with Avraham at B’er Shava, and Avraham gives him seven sheep as a sign of their truce. Hashem tests Avraham’s devotion by commanding him to sacrifice Yitzhak, Isaac, on Mount Moriah (traditionally believed to be the site of the Temple Mount). Yitzhak is bound and placed on the altar, and Avraham raises the knife to slaughter his son. A voice from heaven calls to stop him; a ram, caught in the undergrowth by its horns, is offered in Yitzhak’s place.
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
וַיֵּרָ֤א אֵלָיו֙ יְהֹ–וָ֔ה בְּאֵלֹנֵ֖י מַמְרֵ֑א וְה֛וּא יֹשֵׁ֥ב פֶּֽתַח־הָאֹ֖הֶל כְּחֹ֥ם הַיּֽוֹם׃ The Divine appeared to him in the plains of Mamre; he was sitting at the entrance of the tent in the heat of the day… - Bereisheet (Genesis) 18:1
A friend of mine once said to me, “I don’t understand this idea about being in the ‘present moment.’ What if I don’t like what is happening in the present moment? Why would I want to ‘be in the moment’ if the moment is terrible?”
The famous hasidic rabbi brothers, Zushya and Elimelekh, were the sons of an unusually hospitable couple, who ran a village inn. One day, a band of beggars came to the doorstep of their inn. The couple received them warmly, served them food and drink, and prepared them a place to sleep. Seeing that their guests wanted to bathe, they went down to the bathhouse and heated water for them. Among the beggars was a pauper whose entire body was covered with repulsive sores, and none of the other vagrants were willing to help him wash. The innkeeper’s wife had compassion and helped him, whereupon he turned to her and said: “In return for your kindness, let me bestow upon you my blessing – that you will bear sons who will be like me.” Dismay came over her – sons like him? But within seconds, this man and all his companions along with their wagon vanished before her very eyes. Years later, when her sons grew up, it then dawned on her: she had been put through a test, in order to bestow upon her the gift of saintly sons. When Reb Shneur Zalman of Liadi once recounted this story, one of his listeners asked him: “Who was that leper?” But the rebbe gave not a word of reply. The middah of hospitality is not about only welcoming guests who appeal to us. To truly embody hospitality, we must be free from ulterior motive; then we can embody the middah for its own sake. Similarly, the point of welcoming the present moment isn’t that we like that content of the moment, it is that the practice of being a welcoming presence has the power to liberate us from the preferring self, also called, ego. וַיֵּרָ֤א אֵלָיו֙ יְהֹ–וָ֔ה...כְּחֹ֥ם הַיּֽוֹם׃ The Divine appeared to him…as the heat of the day.” The usual translation says that God appeared to Avraham “in the heat of the day.” But, the Hebrew doesn’t actually say that: “In the heat of the day” would be: בְּחֹם הַיּֽוֹם – B’khom hayom. But here the Hebrew says, כְּחֹ֥ם הַיּֽוֹם – K’khom hayom”- AS the heat of the day. Read literally, the pasuk is saying that the Divine appeared to him as the discomfort of the heat! Furthermore, the word הַיּוֹם hayom which means “the day” can also simply mean “today” – that is, this moment. In other words, yes – the present moment sometimes appears as discomfort, as ugliness, as pain. But the crucial thing to remember is: everything that arises in your experience is a gateway to the Divine, if you open to it. וְה֛וּא יֹשֵׁ֥ב פֶּֽתַח־הָאֹ֖הֶל …and he was sitting at opening of the tent… The אֹהֶל ohel, the “tent,” is your identity – your individual self, meaning, the preferring self, the ego… פֶּֽתַח־הָאֹ֖הֶל כְּחֹ֥ם – the opening of the tent in the heat… The פֶּֽתַח petakh, the “opening,” is the willingness to open to Reality as it presents itself, even when it appears as חֹ֥ם hom, “heat” – that is, as discomfort. In that willingness, in that openness, is the appearance of the Divine. Why? Because in the open space between the “me” and “the world,” there is no distinction between the “outside” and the “inside” – between the inner world of thought and feeling and the outer world you take in through your senses. Everything that happens in your experience – the outer world and the inner world – are part of one experience. And your one experience is nothing but your one consciousness, constantly taking on different forms, yet all the forms, all the experiences, are nothing but the one consciousness. When you really see this, when you realize that all of your experiences are always only One Experience, and that your One Experience is ultimately made out you – meaning, made out of your consciousness – there can be a relaxing of resistance, a relaxing of the “me” that is separate, that’s judges, that prefers, that wants. After all, why would you resist yourself? That just creates inner tension, unnecessary suffering. וַיֵּרָ֤א אֵלָיו֙ יְהֹוָ֔ה – The Divine appeared to him… Than you can see – there is simply this Reality, ever-present, the Divine appearing as the form of this moment, suffering and ugliness, beauty and wonder, all of it… אֵֽין־אֹ֭מֶר וְאֵ֣ין דְּבָרִ֑ים בְּ֝לִ֗י נִשְׁמָ֥ע קוֹלָֽם׃ There is no speech, there are no words, their voices are not heard. - Tehilim (Psalms) 19:4 There are no thoughts to comprehend, no words to describe this mysterious Reality that is appearing, just now. And yet, here it is; welcome it as it is. This is meditation through the Path of ב Bet, the middah of hospitality, of welcoming the moment...
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Parshah Summary – P’shat
The parshah opens with God telling Avram to leave his birthplace and travel to a land where his descendants will become a great nation. So, Avram and his wife, Sarai, accompanied by their nephew Lot, journey to the land of Canaan. Avram builds an altar there, but a famine forces them to flee to Egypt, where Avram and Sarai present themselves as brother and sister, out of fear that Avram would be killed on account of Sarai’s great beauty. Sarai is taken to Pharaoh’s palace, but a plague prevents the Egyptian king from approaching her. Pharaoh then somehow understands that Sarai is Avram’s wife, and he reunites her with Avram, giving them gold, silver and cattle.
When they return to the land of Canaan, Lot separates from Avram and settles in the evil city of Sodom, where he falls captive when the mighty armies of King Kedarla-omer and his three allies conquer the five cities of the Sodom Valley. Avram sets out with a small band to rescue his nephew, defeats the four kings, and is blessed by Malkitzedek, the king of Salem (Jerusalem). Avram seals a strange covenant with God involving a vision of fire descending and moving between severed animal pieces, in which the exile and persecution (galut) of Avram’s descendants is foretold, and their eventual return to the Holy Land is affirmed. Still childless ten years after their arrival in the Land, Sarai tells Avram to marry her maidservant Hagar. Hagar conceives, but becomes insolent toward her mistress, and then flees when Sarai treats her harshly. An angel convinces her to return, and tells her that her son will also become a great nation. Ishmael is born in Avram’s eighty-sixth year. Thirteen years later, God changes Avram’s name to Avraham (Abraham, meaning “father of multitudes”), and Sarai’s name to Sarah (“princess”). A child is promised to them whom they should call Yitzhak (Isaac, “will laugh”). Abraham is instructed to circumcise himself and his descendants as a sign of the covenant. Abraham does so for himself and all the males of his household.
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יְהֹוָה֙ אֶל־אַבְרָ֔ם לֶךְ־לְךָ֛ מֵאַרְצְךָ֥ וּמִמּֽוֹלַדְתְּךָ֖ וּמִבֵּ֣ית אָבִ֑יךָ אֶל־הָאָ֖רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר אַרְאֶֽךָּ׃ Hashem said to Avram, “Go for yourself from your land, from your relatives, and from your father’s house, to the land that I will show you…” -Bereisheet (Genesis) 12:1
Rabbi Hanokh was asked about the verse:
וַיִּשְׂאוּ֩ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֨ל אֶת־עֵינֵיהֶ֜ם וְהִנֵּ֥ה מִצְרַ֣יִם נֹסֵ֣עַ אַחֲרֵיהֶ֗ם וַיִּֽירְאוּ֙ מְאֹ֔ד וַיִּצְעֲק֥וּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל אֶל־יְהֹ–וָֽה׃ The Children of Israel lifted up their eyes and, behold, the Egyptians were marching after them, and they were very frightened; and the Children of Israel cried out to Hashem. - Sh’mot (Exodus) 14:10 They asked him, “Why were they so afraid, since they already knew that God was helping them?” Rabbi Hanokh answered: “When they were in Egypt, the experience of slavery was all they knew; they couldn’t see how deeply they were affected by it. But now that they had a taste of freedom, they thought they had left that all behind, and that they were fully liberated. Instead, they ‘lifted their eyes’ and saw their slavery ‘coming after them.’ They were terrified to learn that they weren’t really free yet. So Moses responded: וַיֹּ֨אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֣ה אֶל־הָעָם֮ אַל־תִּירָ֒אוּ֒ הִֽתְיַצְּב֗וּ וּרְאוּ֙ אֶת־יְשׁוּעַ֣ת יְהֹ–וָ֔ה אֲשֶׁר־יַעֲשֶׂ֥ה לָכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם כִּ֗י אֲשֶׁ֨ר רְאִיתֶ֤ם אֶת־מִצְרַ֙יִם֙ הַיּ֔וֹם לֹ֥א תֹסִ֛פוּ לִרְאֹתָ֥ם ע֖וֹד עַד־עוֹלָֽם׃ And Moses said to the people: Do not be afraid, stand still, and see the Divine liberation which will happen for you today – for as you see Egypt today; your seeing of it shall not continue anymore, forever.’ “This means that when you really see your own bondage, when you can truly perceive how stuck you are, the seeing itself saves you; the seeing itself is the Divine help!” This remarkable teaching of the 19th century Hasidic master Rabbi Hanokh reveals the inner dynamic of spiritual liberation: while the tradition imagines God as a separate entity that liberates us, this teaching hints at the greatest mystery which is hidden in plain sight: the awareness that “sees” is itself Divine; to “stand” with attentiveness to our entanglements is to realize our freedom from them. This is Jewish meditation – so profoundly simple, but not necessarily easy to implement. Like the Israelites who couldn’t see their own enslavement while they were in Egypt, the shift from being identified with our conditioning to being able to see our conditioning can take a tremendous effort, though it is an “effortless effort.” וּרְאוּ֙ אֶת־יְשׁוּעַ֣ת יְהֹוָ֔ה אֲשֶׁר־יַעֲשֶׂ֥ה לָכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם – and see the Divine liberation which will happen for you today… This “effortlessness” is represented by the dualistic imagery: it is God that saves us; all we have to do is “see” it happen “today” – meaning, be present with this moment. But for most of us, our default is to not to see our identifications, but to see the world through our identifications. Like a person who stares constantly their phone, we fetishize the obsessions of ego, “looking up” only occasionally when the walls of the heart are accidentally breached, or when a temporary lapse in the noise of the mind allows the radiant silence to shine through, even if for only a moment. But, we need not be “screen” addicts; we can put down the “phone” of the ego anytime. Listen: The Beloved is calling you to dinner – there’s a banquet prepared. Let go of your judgments about yourself and others. Let go of how you wish things were. Let go of your obsessions, assertions, denials, angers, grudges… there is something so much better than all of that, if you would be willing to set it aside, to look up… לֶךְ־לְךָ֛ מֵֽאַרְצְךָ֥ וּמִמּֽוֹלַדְתְּךָ֖... Go for yourself from your land, from your family… All those opinions, assertions, cravings, disappointments – they seem so real, so important. But they aren’t the real you. They are imprints from “your land” – your culture, your inherited identity, patterns from your family, your experiences, your traumas – but you need not be imprisoned by them: אֶל־הָאָ֖רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר אַרְאֶֽךָּ: – to the land I will show you… We’re being called to the banquet hall and the feast is waiting. It’s true, the “call” is constant, ever-present, and things that are constant are easily ignored. But, you can tune into the message if you’re willing to wake up from the ego’s hypnosis. The key is to stop, to see the pull of the ego, to see the fullness of this moment, as it is. וַיִּֽבֶן־שָׁ֤ם מִזְבֵּ֨חַ֙ לַֽיהֹוָ֔ה וַיִּקְרָ֖א בְּשֵׁ֥ם יְהֹ–וָֽה: And there he built an altar and called upon the Name of the Divine… When we become present, we build a space in time; we create a refuge to withdraw from the ego’s momentum for long enough to get free from it and to call upon the “Divine Name” – meaning, to see things as they are, as arising from the Mystery, rather than as a mere projections of ego. This is the Path of ע Ayin – waking up from the dream the mind, into the Presence of Reality as it appears, Now; it is the path of freedom from the entanglements of ego, and communion with the One who reveals the bright new “land” of this moment…
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Parshah Summary – P’shat
The parshah opens with the description of Noah as an ish tzaddik tamim, a righteous and pure person in his generation, and God expresses displeasure to Noah with the world which has become consumed by violence and corruption. God tells Noah that a flood is coming, and that he should build an ark to float upon the water, saving Noah and his family, along with members of each animal species. Rain falls for 40 days and nights, and the waters churn for 150 days more before calming and beginning to recede. When the ark settles on Mount Ararat, Noah dispatches a raven, and then a series of doves, “to see if the waters have subsided from the face of the earth.” When the ground dries completely—exactly one year after the onset of the Flood—God tells Noah to exit the ark and begin repopulating the earth.
Noah builds an altar and offers sacrifices. God swears never again to destroy humanity because of their deeds, and sets the rainbow in the sky as a testimony of the new covenant with human beings. God also instructs Noah regarding the sacredness of life: murder is explicitly forbidden, and while humans are permitted to eat the meat of animals, they are forbidden to eat flesh or blood taken from a living animal. Noah plants a vineyard, makes wine, and becomes drunk. Two of Noah’s sons, Shem and Yaphet, are blessed for covering up their father, while his third son, Ham, is punished for behaving inappropriately in the presence of his drunk and naked father, though his precise offense is not explicitly described. The descendants of Noah remain a single people, with a single language and culture, for ten generations. Then they try to build a great tower to symbolize their own invincibility; God confuses their language so that “one does not comprehend the tongue of the other,” causing them to abandon their project and disperse across the face of the earth, splitting into seventy nations. The parshah concludes with a chronology of the ten generations from Noah to Abram (who becomes Abraham), and the latter’s journey from his birthplace of Ur Casdim to Haran, on the way to the land of Canaan.
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
אֵ֚לֶּה תּוֹלְדֹ֣ת נֹ֔חַ נֹ֗חַ אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים הָיָ֖ה בְּדֹֽרֹתָ֑יו אֶת־הָֽאֱלֹ–הִ֖ים הִֽתְהַלֶּךְ־נֹֽחַ: These are the offspring of Noah; Noah was a righteous person, perfect in his generation; Noah walked with God. - Bereisheet (Genesis) 6:9
There is a story of Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotz, that as he grew older, he suffered pain in his eyes. He was advised to wear glasses for reading, but he refused: “I do not want to get a wall between my eyes and the holiness of creation.”
The eccentricity of the Kotzker in his refusal to wear eyeglasses may seem foolish, but the story hints an inner reality that tends to get between us and the world – that is, the “eyeglasses” of thought. Very much like physical eyeglasses, the thinking mind can allow us to see things more clearly; without the context of thought, we would have no idea where we are or what we are doing. And yet, the context and understanding provided by thought can also create a separation between ourselves and the fullness of the moment. Remove this separation and we may lose a sense of context and function, but we gain a certain intimacy with whatever is present, an intimacy that reveals that ineffable quality that we might call the “sacred.” And though we certainly can think and talk about the sacred dimension of experience, we access this dimension when we go beyond the thinking mind, into the silent field of consciousness from which it arises… נֹ֗חַ אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים – Noah was a righteous person, perfect… The word for “perfect” is תָּמִים tamim, which comes from תָם tam, meaning “simple,” as in the “simple son” of the Passover Seder. In that context, תָם tam is not a positive thing, at least on the surface; the תָם tam is normally thought of as someone without much intelligence – that is, someone without a strong thinking mind, someone without conceptual context. And yet, in the case of Noah, to be תָּמִים tamim is a good thing, and later in the Torah, it is even described as a mitzvah: תָּמִ֣ים תִּֽהְיֶ֔ה עִ֖ם יְיְ אֱלֹ–הֶֽיךָ: – Simple (tamim) you shall be with Hashem, your God… - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 18:13 And in Rashi’s commentary on this verse, he explains what it means to be תָּמִ֣ים tamim: כָּל מַה שֶּׁיָּבֹא עָלֶיךָ קַבֵּל בִּתְמִימוּת: – Whatever comes to you, accept it with simplicity (t’mimut)… This simple acceptance of “whatever comes to you” is the deeper level of being תָּמִ֣ים tamim. On the surface, it resembles being unintelligent; isn’t it stupid to “simply accept” bad things? But this common misunderstanding confuses “acceptance” with “approval;” we can accept whatever comes, and also respond to it with intelligent judgement; “acceptance” simply means offering no emotional resistance to the truth of what has already come about – this is meditation. So, being תָּמִים tamim doesn’t mean to be passively resigned to whatever happens; it means being present with whatever happens. There is a hint of this in the sound of the word תָם tam, which is pronounced almost the same as טַעַם ta-am, meaning “taste,” hinting: to be תָּמִים tamim means to “fully taste” the present moment, to be intimately connected with “whatever comes to you.” And furthermore, this connection with our situation includes what we do about the situation. For example, if we accept and “fully taste” a situation that is causing suffering, that may naturally lead us to a response aimed at relieving the suffering. נֹ֗חַ אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים – Noah was a righteous person, perfect… That’s why this pasuk describes Noah not only as תָּמִים tamim, but also as an אִישׁ צַדִּיק ish tzaddik – a “righteous person.” Presence is Acceptance and Love in One. אֵ֚לֶּה תּוֹלְדֹ֣ת נֹ֔חַ נֹ֗חַ אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים – These are the offspring of Noah, Noah was a righteous person, perfect… Another hint is in the unusual construction of the pasuk in which נֹחַ Noakh is written twice. The name נֹחַ Noakh actually means “comfort” or “ease.” The fact that it is repeated hints at two kinds of ease: ease within oneself (accepting what happens with simplicity, being תָּמִים tamim), and bringing easefulness to others (love, righteousness, being a צַדִּיק tzaddik). הֵם אָמְרוּ שְׁלשָׁה דְבָרִים. רַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר אוֹמֵר, יְהִי כְבוֹד חֲבֵרְךָ חָבִיב עָלֶיךָ כְּשֶׁלָּךְ, וְאַל תְּהִי נוֹחַ לִכְעֹס. וְשׁוּב יוֹם אֶחָד לִפְנֵי מִיתָתְךָ: They said three things: Rabbi Eliezer said: Let the honor of your friend be as dear to you as your own, and don’t easily become angry. And, return one day before your death. - Pirkei Avot 2:15 These three aphorisms are all connected: if you want to have the honor of your friend be as dear to you as your own honor, you’ve got to get free from your own anger, because it is anger that causes us to be callous toward others. Furthermore, there is a funny play on words here: וְאַל תְּהִי נוֹחַ לִכְעֹס – …don’t be easeful/comfortable (noakh) to get angry. In other words, if we want to be like Noah, if we want to be easeful, accepting what is (tamim) and we also want to be a helpful person to others (ish tzaddik), then we should not be noakh likh’os – “easy to get angry.” And how do we do this וְשׁוּב יוֹם אֶחָד לִפְנֵי מִיתָתְךָ: – Return one day before your death. On the surface it’s saying we should “repent” every day, because we don’t know what day we will die. But on a deeper level, this is the “death” of everything extraneous to this moment; it is the death of anger, of worry, of overthinking. We achieve this “death” through שׁוּב יוֹם אֶחָד – return one day – meaning, return to this moment. But to do this means cultivating a heightened self-awareness; we must learn to notice our inner state, to constantly discern between Presence and distraction אֶת־הָֽאֱלֹ–הִ֖ים הִֽתְהַלֶּךְ־נֹֽחַ: – Noah walked with the Divine… The Divine Name here is אֱלֹ–הִ֖ים Elohim, the Name associated with discernment. Our natural tendency is to become absorbed into our own thinking and then see the world through the “eyeglasses” of our minds. To counter this, we must constantly “walk ourselves back” to our actual experience, to the simple truth of the moment…
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וַיֹּ֨אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֜ה אֶל־יְה–וָ֗ה רְ֠אֵה אַתָּ֞ה אֹמֵ֤ר אֵלַי֙ הַ֚עַל אֶת־הָעָ֣ם הַזֶּ֔ה וְאַתָּה֙ לֹ֣א הֽוֹדַעְתַּ֔נִי אֵ֥ת אֲשֶׁר־תִּשְׁלַ֖ח עִמִּ֑י...
Moses said to Hashem, “See, You say to me, ‘Lead this people,’ but You have not made known to me whom You will send with me….” - Sh’mot (Exodus) 33:12
Rabbi Yitzhak Mer of Ger was once talking to a hasid of Rabbi Simcha Bunam. The hasid said that his master, Reb Bunam, once remarked he was amazed that a person wouldn’t become spiritually perfected by merely saying the Birkat Hamazon, the blessing after meals. Rabbi Yitzhak thought for a moment and then replied, “I think differently. I am amazed that a person isn’t spiritually perfected merely by eating! After all, a donkey knows its owner…”
We may not have so much experience with donkeys, but many of us have experience with dogs – how a dog will run to its owner with love and enthusiasm the moment they walk through the door. How does the dog know the owner is there? All it takes is the sound of the door opening, or the sound of the voice, and the dog comes running. The dog doesn’t want the door or the voice, the dog wants the person; but the sounds are the cue. Rabbi Yitzhak has something similar in mind – that if we want to “run” into the arms of the Divine, so to speak, we too can listen for the cues so to speak. But to do that, we must first recognize that there are cues; unlike the dog, we tend to be ignorant of the meaning of the “sounds.” Why is this? ה֤וֹרֵ֥נִי יְה–וָ֗ה דַּ֫רְכֶּ֥ךָ וּ֭נְחֵנִי בְּאֹ֣רַח מִישׁ֑וֹר לְ֝מַ֗עַן שׁוֹרְרָֽי: Reveal to me, Hashem, Your way, and guide me on a straight path, because of my opponents… - Psalm 27 The prayer expressed here in Psalm 27 refers to a שׁוֹרֵר shorer – an “enemy” or “foe” or “opponent” that would impede our ability to perceive the “cues” and walk on God’s “path.” The plain meaning is a reference to King David’s human enemies, but on a deeper level, it hints at an inner reality. There is a bumper sticker that reads, “Don’t believe everything you think.” This succinct piece of wisdom hints at the identity of the שׁוֹרֵר shorer as thought. We can understand thought as an “opponent” in cases of delusion; when the reality a person describes is completely different from what people normally consider to be true, we call that insanity. But there is some degree of insanity in all of us; when our minds make automatic assumptions and judgments, we tend to believe in our thoughts without question, especially if there is an emotional charge attached to them. In this way, it is our own thoughts that lead us onto a crooked path; it is our own thoughts that become the שׁוֹרֵר shorer, the opponent. אַל תָּדִין אֶת חֲבֵרְךָ עַד שֶׁתַּגִּיעַ לִמְקוֹמוֹ: Don’t judge your friend until you have reached their place… - Pirkei Avot 2:5 Until you have the same perspective as your friend, says Hillel, you should refrain from judging them; which is really the same as saying that we should never judge anyone, because it is impossible to ever see completely from someone else’s perspective. The message is: although we must sometimes make judgments, don’t believe in in your thoughts as absolute truth. Be open. Let your thoughts be translucent to the light that Reality continuously reveals, and be conscious of the infinite complexity that is not revealed. But if the function of the mind is thought, how can we possibly transcend thought? This we learn from the donkey, or the dog: listen for the cues; meaning, come out from thought and into the senses. Only with us it is even more simple – all we need do is pay attention to whatever is present, to whatever presents itself. And this is the deeper lesson of Reb Yitzhak’s spiritual perfection through eating: it is the realm of the senses that brings us into the arms of the Master, not the realm of language and thinking. This is Moses’ confusion as well: וְאַתָּה֙ לֹ֣א הֽוֹדַעְתַּ֔נִי אֵ֥ת אֲשֶׁר־תִּשְׁלַ֖ח עִמִּ֑י... – “You have not revealed whom You will send with me….” Moses is asking, who and where are You, God? How can I know You are with me? God responds by putting Moses in a cleft of rock and then “passing by” while shielding Moses’ eyes from seeing God directly. Then, the shielding is removed, and Moses sees God’s “back.” וַהֲסִרֹתִי֙ אֶת־כַּפִּ֔י וְרָאִ֖יתָ אֶת־אֲחֹרָ֑י – “I will take My hand away and you will see My back…” - Exodus 33:23 What is this “back of God” that Moses sees? It is nothing but the world of the senses, the Presence of whatever is present. And this is the deeper wisdom of Rabbi Yitzhak’s teaching about eating: this moment is Grace. You need not even wait until the next meal; every moment we are sustained by the air around us; every moment is a Gift. But we can only really see this if we come fully into the moment, if we come into the senses, into our bodies, into our breathing, and out from our belief in the world of thought. In this way, we can begin to see the supreme Beauty, the Harmony of forces that allows this moment to be, that allows us to be. Then, our thoughts need not be the enemy, they can function as part of that Harmony; they can become like the sukkah – not a solid edifice of assertions and beliefs, but a framing of the tiny space in this world we inhabit, a translucent embellishment of the Openness; this is Tiferet.
Read past teachings on Sukkot HERE
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