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How can I experience Oneness directly through Jewish Meditation? Insights from Parshat Vayakhel and the letter ע Ayin...
Parshah Summary – P’shat (literal level)
The parshah opens with Moses assembling the Children of Israel and reviewing the mitzvah of Shabbat, followed by instructions for constructing the Mishkan (Tabernacle). The Israelites bring the materials for its construction in abundance: gold, silver and copper; blue, purple, and red-dyed wool; goat hair, spun linen, animal skins, wood, olive oil, herbs and precious stones. They actually bring too much, and Moses has to tell them to stop. A team of “wise-hearted” artisans build the Mishkan and its furnishings (as described in the previous Torah readings of Terumah, Tetzaveh, and Ki Tisa): three layers of roof coverings; 48 gold-plated wall panels, and 100 silver foundation sockets; the parokhet (veil) that separates between the Sanctuary’s two chambers, and the masakh (screen) at the fron, the ark, and its cover with the cherubim; the table and its showbread; the seven-branched menorah with its specially prepared oil; the golden altar and the incense burned upon it; the anointing oil; the outdoor altar for burnt offerings and all its implements; the hangings, posts and foundation sockets for the courtyard; and the basin with its pedestal, made out of copper mirrors… Torah of Awakening וַיַּקְהֵ֣ל מֹשֶׁ֗ה אֶֽת־כל־עֲדַ֛ת בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אֲלֵהֶ֑ם אֵ֚לֶּה הַדְּבָרִ֔ים אֲשֶׁר־צִוָּ֥ה יְיְ לַעֲשֹׂ֥ת אֹתָֽם׃ שֵׁ֣שֶׁת יָמִים֮ תֵּעָשֶׂ֣ה מְלָאכָה֒ וּבַיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִ֗י יִהְיֶ֨ה לָכֶ֥ם קֹ֛דֶשׁ שַׁבַּ֥ת שַׁבָּת֖וֹן לַיי כׇּל־הָעֹשֶׂ֥ה ב֛וֹ מְלָאכָ֖ה יוּמָֽת׃ Moses assembled the whole assembly of the Children of Israel, and said to them: These are the things that Hashem has commanded you to do: On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day, it shall be for you sacred; a Sabbath of Sabbaths for the Divine; whoever does any work on it shall die… - Shemot (Exodus) 35:1, 2 Parshat Vayak’hel The Maggid of Zlotchov taught on this verse in which Moses is recounting the giving of the Ten Commandments: אָ֠נֹכִ֠י עֹמֵ֨ד בֵּין־יְהֹוָ֤ה וּבֵֽינֵיכֶם֙ – “I stood between the Divine and you…” -Devarim (Deutermonomy) 5:5. “The ‘I’ stands between God and us; when you say ‘I,’ a wall stands between you and the Divine. But for one who offers the ‘I’ – there is no barrier. And this is what the words in the Song of Songs are referring to: אֲנִ֣י לְדוֹדִ֔י וְעָלַ֖י תְּשׁוּקָתֽוֹ – I am my beloved’s and his desire is toward me – when my ‘I’ has become my beloved’s, then it is toward me that His desire turns.” The “Beloved” is nothing other than Reality; everything is God. Each moment we remember that everything is God, we are instantly and effortlessly reunited with the Beloved. It is not that God has gone anywhere; there is nothing but God, only you have become used to It. It is like walking with a lover, hand in hand. At first, you are on fire with love. But, if you keep walking, at some point you start to think about something else. Eventually you wouldn’t even notice that you are holding hands. To be reunited, in such a case, is to become aware of what is already present. שֵׁ֣שֶׁת יָמִים֮ תֵּעָשֶׂ֣ה מְלָאכָה֒ – Six days shall work be done… It doesn’t say, “six days you shall work (ta’ase),” but rather “six days work shall be done (te’ase).” The passive form hints that a person should not identify with the work; there should be no sense of “I am doing this work.” וּבַיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִ֗י יִהְיֶ֨ה לָכֶ֥ם קֹ֛דֶשׁ שַׁבַּ֥ת שַׁבָּת֖וֹן – and on the seventh day, it should be for you sacred; a Sabbath of Sabbaths . . . It doesn’t say there should be a Sabbath among the weekdays, but rather a Sabbath among Sabbaths! Meaning, even the weekdays should be Sabbaths, in a sense. Work is being done, but there should be no sense of a “me” doing the work. There is only the One doer, and the One includes all the different beings doing their different jobs. That’s why one of the Divine Names is Elohim, which is a plural word, meaning “powers.” God is the Oneness of the many. שַׁבַּ֥ת שַׁבָּת֖וֹן לַיי כׇּל־הָעֹשֶׂ֥ה ב֛וֹ מְלָאכָ֖ה יוּמָֽת׃ – A Sabbath of Sabbaths to the Divine – all who work on it shall die… On the surface it seems to be saying that if a person does work on Shabbat they will die or be executed. But there is a different way to read the verse: not whoever does work on it, shall die, but rather, whoever does work, on it shall die. In other words, the “doer” of work during the week – the “I” that thinks it is the doer – should “die” on Shabbat. That is its gift and power – once you are able to “put yourself to death” as the “doer” on Shabbat, this also opens the possibility of dis-identifying with the “doer” on weekdays as well. Then all of life is Shabbat – that is liberation… How do you do it? Whenever you do anything, you can remind yourself: your strength is a gift. Your intelligence is a gift. Even the desire to do anything at all is a gift. It all comes from Beyond; everything comes into being through an infinite string of efforts from a vast עֲדַת adat – an assembly of countless beings… וַיַּקְהֵ֣ל מֹשֶׁ֗ה אֶֽת־כׇּל־עֲדַ֛ת – Moses assembled the whole assembly… And yet, there is only one person who can command this awareness from you, and that is you! That’s the paradox – you must be like Moses, assembling the entire assembly of Being before your mind in each moment. This is ע ayin – seeing the deeper Reality; the One that both includes and transcends the Many. May this week of Shabbat Vayak’hel-Pekudei be all Shabbat, so that Shabbat be a Shabbat Shabbaton. May we offer our “I” to the “Beloved” and know the One who is both the Doer and the Doing, both the One and the Many. May this realization move the world toward healing all the sufferings caused by the endlessly hungry “me.”
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How can I get free from thoughts and painful emotions through Jewish Meditation? Insights from Parshat Ki Tisa and Purim...
Parshah Summary – P’shat (literal level)
Before diving into the wisdom teachings on the right way to practice Jewish meditation to get free from disturbing thoughts and painful emotions, let's look briefly at the parshah on the literal level: The parshah opens with Moses taking a census of the Children of Israel. Each person who is counted must contribute a makhazit hashekel – a half shekel of silver to the Sanctuary. Instructions are also given regarding the making of the Sanctuary’s water basin, anointing oil and incense. The “wise-hearted” artisans Betzalel and Aholiav are singled out as possessing hokhmat halev – “wisdom of the heart” – and are placed in charge of the Sanctuary’s construction. Moses does not return when expected from Mount Sinai. The people lose faith, and make themselves a golden calf to worship. Hashem grows angry and proposes to destroy the errant nation, but Moses intercedes on their behalf. Moses descends from the mountain carrying the “tablets of the testimony” engraved with the Ten Commandments. But when he sees the people dancing about their idol, he breaks the tablets, and destroys the golden calf. He then pleads with God for forgiveness on their behalf: “If You will not forgive them, blot me out from the book that You have written.” Hashem forgives them, but says that the effect will be felt for many generations, and as they continue their journey, Hashem will not be with them; only an angel will accompany them. But, Moses again pleads with Hashem to continue to accompanying them on their journey to the promised land. Moses prepares a new set of tablets himself (as opposed the first set which were inscribed by God). On the mountain, Moses is also granted a vision of the “Thirteen Attributes of Compassion.” When Moses returns, his face is so radiant that he must cover it with a veil, which he removes only to speak with Hashem and to teach Torah to the people… Torah of Awakening כִּ֣י תִשָּׂ֞א אֶת־רֹ֥אשׁ בְּנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵל֮ לִפְקֻדֵיהֶם֒ וְנָ֨תְנ֜וּ אִ֣ישׁ כֹּ֧פֶר נַפְשׁ֛וֹ לַיהֹוָ֖ה בִּפְקֹ֣ד אֹתָ֑ם וְלֹא־יִהְיֶ֥ה בָהֶ֛ם נֶ֖גֶף בִּפְקֹ֥ד אֹתָֽם׃ When you take a census of the Children of Israel according to their numbers, each shall give an atonement for their soul to the Divine when they are counted, so that there will not be a plague among them when they are counted… - Shemot (Exodus) 30:12, Parshat Ki Tisa 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 pray and learn and work in a spirit of service, your distracting impulses will vanish on their own.” The Master’s response may seem contradictory: on one hand, we cannot get rid of distracting impulses through spiritual practice; but on the other hand, if we practice with the right intention, they will leave of their own accord. Isn’t that the same thing? But that’s the point: we can get free of inner disturbance, but we cannot do it if our motivation involves trying to get something for ourselves; we must do it in a spirit of love – that is an essential ingredient for success, and is why we begin our practice of Integral Jewish Meditation with the first of the three portals, the portal of the heart: we offer attention to this moment as it is, as opposed to trying to “get something.” (Learn Integral Jewish meditation HERE.) וְנָ֨תְנ֜וּ אִ֣ישׁ כֹּ֧פֶר נַפְשׁ֛וֹ – each shall give an atonement for their soul… This strange passage describes the necessity for giving a כֹּ֧פֶר kofer – an “atonement” or a “ransom” when being counted in the census. (Kofer is a different form of kippur, as in Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.) יִתְּנ֗וּ כׇּל־הָעֹבֵר֙ עַל־הַפְּקֻדִ֔ים מַחֲצִ֥ית הַשֶּׁ֖קֶל זֶ֣ה – This is what shall be given by all who pass through the counting: a half-shekel… The kofer the people offer is to be a kind of coin, a “half shekel,” which they need to give in order to prevent a plague from breaking out. But why do they have to atone for being counted to prevent a plague, as if being counted is some kind of sin? כִּ֣י תִשָּׂ֞א אֶת־רֹ֥אשׁ – When you lift up the head (take a census)… The idiom that describes the census literally means, “When you lift up the head.” What is “lifting up the head?” It is elevating consciousness – meaning, the disentanglement or dis-identification of consciousness with thought and feeling – all of that inner material that normally makes up the sense of “me,” or ego. The process of ki tisa – of transcending the ego and experiencing the freedom and spaciousness of pure consciousness is, of course, the aim of meditation. Normally, when we decide to practice Jewish meditation, we are motivated by wanting to experience something like that – maybe we want less stress, maybe we want to stop feeling the burden of our problems, or whatever. And these are all totally valid motivations, but the problem is, they’re all rooted in that experience of “me” wanting to get “something.” But since the thing you’re trying to get is the letting go of the “me,” it doesn’t work! It turns your meditation into a kind of plague, because you’re chasing after something you can never get with that approach. The only way you can get it is by changing your approach – changing your motivation – don’t do it from that drive to get something. This is why the rabbi of Rizhyn instructed his disciple as he did. The message is: approach practice as an act of giving – an act of love for its own sake – that’s the donation of the “half shekel.” It is only a half shekel because there is, of course, the acknowledgment that meditation is good for you – that’s the other “half of the coin” so to speak – but that which is good for you is also good for others. You have to put on your own oxygen mask before helping your children, otherwise you might not be able to help your children. So the donation of the makhazit hashekel, the half shekel, means that you are dedicating the spiritual work that you do on yourself toward the service of others. Purim Today, the practice of the makhazit hashekel is commemorated by giving three half coins (half dollar coins in the USA) to charity, on the day leading into Purim. The tradition of giving three coins comes from the fact that Parshat Ki Tisa, from which the idea of the makhazit hashekel comes, mentions the word terumah, “donation,” three times. This particular practice of giving to others in need is also reflected in the two of the four other mitzvot of Purim: Matanot La’evyonim – giving gifts to the poor, and Mishloach Manot – giving/sending gifts of food to friends. The other two mitzvot of Purim are the seuda – the eating of a festive meal, and hearing the megillah, the Scroll of Esther, which tells the Purim story. These last two mitzvot (eating and hearing) are more of a “receiving” then a “giving,” forming a counterpoint to the first two. The festive meal is particularly in this spirit, and there is a tradition to become intoxicated with alcohol. אָמַר רָבָא: מִיחַיַּיב אִינִישׁ לְבַסּוֹמֵי בְּפוּרַיָּא עַד דְּלָא יָדַע בֵּין אָרוּר הָמָן לְבָרוּךְ מָרְדֳּכַי Rava said: A person is obligated to become intoxicated on Purim until they don’t know how to distinguish between “cursed is Haman” and “blessed is Mordecai”… - B. Talmud, Megillah 7b And yet, these practices of receiving, like all spiritual practices, should be done in a spirit of giving: eating and drinking for God, so to speak. In this way, loving service is disguised as gluttony; this is the paradox of Purim, pointing to the paradox of spirituality in general, and embodied in the popular practice of wearing masks and costumes for Purim celebrations. In the language of Kabbalah, this points to Hesed, Lovingkindness, being dressed in the garb of Yesod, joy. It is important to note that there is disagreement in the tradition as to whether the intoxication of Purim should involve alcohol or not.While the Talmudic passage quoted above is a well-known proof text for justifying becoming drunk, the passage that comes immediately after is less known: It says that Rabba and Rabbi Zeira followed Rava’s advice and got drunk on Purim, which resulted in Rabba murdering Rabbi Zeira! When he became sober and realized what he had done, Rabba prayed and Rabbi Zeira was resurrected! The next year, Rabba suggested that they get drunk again on Purim, to which Rabbi Zeira replied, “Miracles do not happen each and every hour!” Read past teachings on Parshat Ki Tisa HERE.
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Experience our Growing Community Here What is the connection between relationship with the Divine and Jewish Meditation?  Torah Teachings on the Jewish Path of Presence by Reb Brian Yosef Schachter-Brooks Parshat Tetzaveh Summary – P’shat
Parshah Tetzaveh opens with the commandment (Tetzaveh) that the Children of Israel should bring pure olive oil to kindle the Ner Tamid – the “everlasting flame” of the Menorah, which Aaron is to kindle each day, “from evening till morning.” The priestly garments, to be worn by the kohanim while serving in the Sanctuary, are then described: 1) the ketonet – linen tunic; 2) mikhnasayim – linen breeches; 3) the mitznefet or migba’at – linen turban; and 4) the avnet – a long sash wound above the waist. In addition, the Kohen Gadol (high priest) wore: 5) the efod—an apron-like garment made of blue, purple, and red-dyed wool, linen, and gold thread; 6) the hoshen—a breastplate containing twelve precious stones inscribed with the names of the twelve tribes of Israel; 7) the me’il—a cloak of blue wool, with gold bells and decorative pomegranates on its hem; and 8) the tzitz—a golden plate worn on the forehead, bearing the inscription “Holy to Hashem.” Parshat Tetzaveh also describes instructions for the seven-day initiation of Aaron and his four sons—Nadav, Avihu, Elazar and Itamar—into the priesthood, and for the making of the golden altar, on which the ketoret (incense) was burned… Torah of Awakening וְאַתָּ֞ה תְּצַוֶּ֣ה אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֗ל וְיִקְח֨וּ אֵלֶ֜יךָ שֶׁ֣מֶן זַ֥יִת זָ֛ךְ כָּתִ֖ית לַמָּא֑וֹר לְהַעֲלֹ֥ת נֵ֖ר תָּמִֽיד׃ Tetzaveh – You shall command the Children of Israel to bring you oil of olives, crushed for lighting, for kindling lamps continuously… - Shemot (Exodus) 27:20, Parshat Tetzaveh When Reb Yaakov Yitzhak, the Seer of Lublin, was a young disciple of Reb Shmelke, his rebbe imposed a certain responsibility on him. Reb Shmelke told young Yaakov Yitzhak that he should help him never lose his deveikus – his inner connection to the Divine Presence in all things. He should watch his master especially during the activity of Talmudic debate, when the act of intellectual arguing could distract him from this awareness. If he noticed his master losing it, he should gently touch his gloves to remind him. Reb Yaakov Yitzhak reported that he never had to touch his master’s gloves even once. Why would the master give his disciple such a task, if in fact he never needed his disciple’s help? Of course, it was to help his disciple remain mindful himself! By watching the deveikus of his rebbe, he was also able to remain awake. To be constantly present and live from the wellspring of wisdom that arises spontaneously from our own depths of awareness, we have to be tremendously selfish. It takes a heroic effort to continuously arouse Presence, moment by moment. But if we know that we are not doing it only for ourselves, and that being present helps us to better serve others, it becomes a duty. Just as a parent generally does not forget to go to work to make money to buy food for the children, so it is far easier to remember to be present when you know that it is your duty to others as well. וְעָשִׂ֥יתָ צִּ֖יץ זָהָ֣ב טָה֑וֹר וּפִתַּחְתָּ֤ עָלָיו֙ פִּתּוּחֵ֣י חֹתָ֔ם קֹ֖דֶשׁ לַֽיי׃ – You shall make a frontlet of pure gold and engrave on it the seal inscription: “Holy to Hashem.” -28:36 The High Priest The High Priest must wear a special head piece – a gold platelet which bore the Divine Name. וְהָיָ֤ה עַל־מִצְחוֹ֙ תָּמִ֔יד …and it shall be on his forehead always. -28:36 The Talmud (Tractate Yoma) comments on this verse: “…that he should never divert his attention from it.” In other words, he must remain constantly mindful of the Divine. It is very clever that the symbol of the Divine, the engraved name, is on his forehead – so close to his eyes, yet impossible to see! That is exactly what Presence is like. You can’t see it because it is the seeing itself. The awareness looking through your eyes in this moment is the waking up of Existence through your body/mind. That awareness tends to fall into the dream of thinking, “I am this body-mind; I am so-and-so.” But in becoming aware of awareness, you can drop this sense of the limited “I.” The awareness is not “yours” really – it is God’s awareness, seeing through your eyes… שֶׁ֣מֶן... לַמָּא֑וֹר לְהַעֲלֹ֥ת נֵ֖ר תָּמִֽיד׃ עַל־הָעֵדֻ֗ת oil ... for kindling lamps continuously… upon the (tablets of) witness… The “oil,” the “lamps,” and the “witness” are all different aspects of consciousness: “Oil” is the simple fact of consciousness, that which we already are at the most fundamental level. “Kindling the lamp” means being aware on purpose – that is, becoming present. “Witness” is the basic activity of awareness as Presence: Receiving the fullness of What Is in the moment, without distortion or resistance. Through the “kindling of the lamps,” that is, the practice of Presence, these three aspects become one: consciousness becomes aware of itself as the witness. The word for “witness” is עֵד ed. Ordinarily, we unconsciously assume ourselves to be a bundle of thoughts and feelings, inside our bodies looking out; we think of ourselves as the entity. But on the deepest level, we are simply the ed – we are the consciousness within which the experience of both the person and the world around us arises. This is the secret of the 1960s sitcom Mr. Ed theme song, which ends with the talking horse singing, “I am Mr. Ed!” It is true – the deepest “I” – our innermost identity – is the ed – the witnessing consciousness within which all perception, all experience, unfolds. To know this for ourselves, we need only become aware on purpose. How do we do that? When you look at a painting, you are actually looking at a visual design of paint overlaid on a canvas. But when you look at the painting, how often are you aware of the canvas? You are looking right at it, but the mind doesn’t tend to focus on it. You see only the design. What happens when you remind yourself that you are also looking at the canvas? As your mind holds the awareness of the canvas in addition to the design, you may notice that it becomes still. Now, try being aware of your awareness. We tend to look for God on the level of the painting; we want to find a better, more Godly picture. But all along, That which we seek is already inherent in the canvas. Meaning: become aware of your awareness, and the Divine Presence inherent in all things reveals Itself. Furthermore, Presence changes the “painting” as well – with practice, the shape of your thoughts and feelings will come to reflect your inner depth, changing your experience of life from the deepest level, rather than merely rearranging things on the surface. But how do we practice this constantly? How can Presence be more than fleeting? Tetzaveh – command it! Just to have the intention is already to do it. We are already perceiving what we are perceiving. We don’t have to perceive something else; we need only perceive on purpose. This is the Path of ע Ayin, the practice of simply “seeing,” of being the Witness… Read more teachings on Tetzaveh HERE. Parshah Summary – P’shat
The parshah begins with last three of the Ten Plagues: a swarm of locusts devours all the crops and greenery; a thick darkness envelops the land; and on the 15th of the month of Nissan at midnight, all the firstborn of Egypt perish. The first mitzvah is then given to the Children of Israel: to establish a calendar based on the monthly rebirth of the moon. The Israelites are also instructed to bring a “Passover offering” – a lamb or goat is to be slaughtered, and its blood sprinkled on the doorposts and lintel of every Israelite home, so that God should “pass over” (Pesakh) those homes when the plague of the firstborn takes place. The roasted meat of the offering is to be eaten that night together with matzah and bitter herbs. The death of the firstborn finally breaks Pharaoh’s resistance, and he drives the children of Israel from his land. So hastily do they depart that there is no time for their dough to rise, hence the practice of eating matzah in commemoration of the Exodus. Before they go, they ask their Egyptian neighbors for gold, silver and garments—fulfilling the promise made to Abraham that his descendants would leave Egypt with great wealth. The Children of Israel are instructed to consecrate all firstborn, and to observe the anniversary of the Exodus each year by removing all leaven from their possession for seven days, eating matzah, and telling the story of their redemption to their children. They are also instructed to wear tefillin on the arm and head as a reminder of the Exodus and their commitment to the Divine as the Power of Liberation… Torah of Awakening וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יְהֹוָה֙ אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה בֹּ֖א אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֑ה כִּֽי־אֲנִ֞י הִכְבַּ֤דְתִּי אֶת־לִבּוֹ֙ וְאֶת־לֵ֣ב עֲבָדָ֔יו לְמַ֗עַן שִׁתִ֛י אֹתֹתַ֥י אֵ֖לֶּה בְּקִרְבּֽוֹ׃ Hashem said to Moses, “Come to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart and the hearts of his servants, so that I may place my signs within him…” - Shemot (Exodus) 10:1, Parshat Bo Reb Yoel of Tshopli, a hasid of Reb Mordechai of Lechovitch, was beset with a deep angst and dissatisfaction with life; so, he set out to seek wisdom from his master. When he arrived, he was so eager, that he pounded loudly on the door and shouted: “Open up please!” Reb Asher, who had stepped out for some fresh air, heard the noise and exclaimed, “Who is that pounding?” “It is I!” said Reb Yoel. The voice of the master came booming from within: “Where in the whole universe can you find a creature that can say “I” about itself? For the true “I” says: וְעָבַרְתִּ֣י בְאֶֽרֶץ־מִצְרַ֘יִם֮... אֲנִ֥י יְיָ – “I will go through the land of Egypt...I Am the Divine!” And about this verse, the Haggadah says: אֲנִי הוּא וְלֹא אַחֵר – “I am That, and there is no other!” When Reb Yoel heard these words through the door, he no longer needed anything – he had received the wisdom he sought. He untied his pony and trotted home to Tshopli, his thirst quenched. Reb Yoel’s existential angst is cured when his master leads him from his own separate self-sense of “I,” or ego, to the inner identity of Existence Itself, the “Big I.” This realization is also expressed in the Aleinu prayer: הוּא אֱלֺהֵֽינוּ אֵין עוֹד – It is our Divinity – Ayn Od – there is nothing else… Meaning: our “Divinity,” i.e. our awareness, is not separate from Being – there is nothing but Existence, and we are not separate from That. But later on it says: וְהָיָה יְיָ לְמֶֽלֶךְ עַל כָּל הָאָֽרֶץ – The Divine will be King over all the earth – as if there is a dualism, as if the “Divine” and the “earth” are two separate things. But this is resolved in the second half of the verse: בַּיּוֹם הַהוּא יִהְיֶה יְיָ אֶחָד וּשְׁמוֹ אֶחָד – …and on that day the Divine will be One and Its Name will be “One.” The “Name” means our conceptual understanding of God. Existence can only ever be One, but the very structure of thought is based on seeing things as separate. The duality, then, is not between God and the world, but between God (which includes the world) and our mental concept of God. The goal, that the Divine will be One and Its Name will be “One,” means that we must learn to go beyond the structure of thought and know the Oneness directly – that is the fruit of meditation. In meditation, we do not turn away from, deny or ignore our separate self-sense; rather, we become present with it: בֹּ֖א אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֑ה – Come to Pharaoh… Not “go,” but “come” – as if God is there with Pharaoh, calling Moses to “come.” Pharaoh represents the separate self-sense, or ego, created when consciousness identifies with thought and feeling. Moses represents the liberating activity of consciousness. Moses “coming” to Pharaoh, then, is the practice of bringing our awareness into ourselves, into the feeling of being a separate entity. When we do this, when we shift from feeling that we are the separate entity, into perceiving the feeling being an entity, then we can shift into knowing ourselves as the open space of awareness, within which we experience the ego. From here, it is a small step to recognize: this awareness that I am is not “mine” – it is Reality waking up as this body-mind; it is God seeing though these eyes – and that is Liberation. וַיִּזְעָ֑קוּ וַתַּ֧עַל שַׁוְעָתָ֛ם אֶל־הָאֱלֹהִ֖ים מִן־הָעֲבֹדָֽה – They cried out; and their cries from their slavery rose up to God. Ordinarily, we are “enslaved” by our separate self-sense, though we are not likely to notice this until we encounter suffering. But when suffering does arises, then there is a special opportunity to “cry out” in prayer. That “crying out” is the beginning of liberation; it is the motivation we need for doing the ongoing work of Presence. In this week of Shabbat Bo, may we practice evermore deeply making the connection between consciousness and the fullness of Reality as it meets us in this moment, communing with the Presence that shines silently from all things; this is Malkhut, presence with the Presence… Read more on Parshat Bo HERE.
Shalom friends – G'mar hatimah tovah – may you be inscribed for goodness! Here is the drash I gave Erev Rosh Hashanah 5782:
Rabbi Yisrael, the Maggid of Koznitz, would travel to the city of Apt every year on his father’s yartzeitto visit his grave. While he was there, he would preach to the community in the synagogue. One year, on such a visit, he neglected to show up at the synagogue, so some people found him outside the inn where he was staying to ask him when he would come.
“I don’t think I will preach this year,” he replied. “I don’t see any evidence that my preaching has done any good.” He went up into his room and shut the door. The people were dumbfounded, and didn’t know what to say. Then, a young craftsman stepped forward, went into the inn, up to the Maggid’s room and knocked on his door. The Maggid answered. “You say that your preaching hasn’t had any effect,” said the craftsman. “But that’s not true. Last year you spoke about the practice of Sh’viti Hashem L’negdi Tamid – I place the Divine before me constantly. Ever since then, I always see the Divine before me in whatever I am doing, and in whatever is happening; It appears to me like black fire on white fire.” “Hmm,” replied the Maggid, “Okay then, I guess I’ll come and preach.” As we come into this new year of 5782, and as this world is going through so many profound shifts accompanied by so many catastrophes and so much suffering, we need so deeply to know that white fire on black fire – meaning, we need to know the underlying Reality behind all opposites; we need to plug directly into That Source. We need to know that this Mystery which is at the root of all things, not separate at all from the awareness that hears these words right now, the field of consciousness that you are, fully within yet infinitely beyond your thoughts, your feelings, and your body, that which we call the Divine who is not a supreme being, but is rather Beingness Itself, That is the Source from which we can draw the strength and inspiration we need to meet this moment. We hope and pray for relief, for healing and normalcy, and b’ezrat Hashem may it manifest speedily. But instead of focussing too much on how we would rather things to be, I think we will be far better served to embrace, rather than resist this time of crisis, to accept that this is the moment in which we live, and do our best to meet it, to plant and nurture seeds of light in these opaque times. How do we do this? If we want to find Reality, if we want to find the Divine, if we want to find the truth of our own beings, all of which are the ultimately same thing, then we need to learn how, again and again, to fully bring ourselves to what is present, and to spend some time every day, in whatever way we can, in silence, in simple Presence with Reality as it is appearing to us. כִּ֚י הַמִּצְוָ֣ה הַזֹּ֔את אֲשֶׁ֛ר אָנֹכִ֥י מְצַוְּךָ֖ הַיּ֑וֹם לֹא־נִפְלֵ֥את הִוא֙ מִמְּךָ֔ וְלֹ֥א רְחֹקָ֖ה הִֽוא׃ For this teaching which I enjoin upon you today is not hidden from you, nor is it distant. לֹ֥א בַשָּׁמַ֖יִם הִ֑וא לֵאמֹ֗ר מִ֣י יַעֲלֶה־לָּ֤נוּ הַשָּׁמַ֙יְמָה֙ וְיִקָּחֶ֣הָ לָּ֔נוּ וְיַשְׁמִעֵ֥נוּ אֹתָ֖הּ וְנַעֲשֶֽׂנָּה׃ It is not in the heavens, that you should say, “Who will ascend for us to the heavens and get it for us that we may hear it and do it? וְלֹא־מֵעֵ֥בֶר לַיָּ֖ם הִ֑וא לֵאמֹ֗ר מִ֣י יַעֲבׇר־לָ֜נוּ אֶל־עֵ֤בֶר הַיָּם֙ וְיִקָּחֶ֣הָ לָּ֔נוּ וְיַשְׁמִעֵ֥נוּ אֹתָ֖הּ וְנַעֲשֶֽׂנָּה׃ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who will cross over for us beyond the sea and get it for us that we may hear it and do it? כִּֽי־קָר֥וֹב אֵלֶ֛יךָ הַדָּבָ֖ר מְאֹ֑ד בְּפִ֥יךָ וּבִֽלְבָבְךָ֖ לַעֲשֹׂתֽוֹ׃ For this thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it. - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 30:11-14 This special day, the “head” of the year, tells us how. The Talmud says: אָמַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא The Holy Blessed One said – אִמְרוּ לְפָנַי בְּרֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה מַלְכִיּוֹת זִכְרוֹנוֹת וְשׁוֹפָרוֹת Recite before Me on Rosh HaShanah – Sovereignty, Remembrance and Shofars. מַלְכִיּוֹת כְּדֵי שֶׁתַּמְלִיכוּנִי עֲלֵיכֶם Sovereignty, so that you should honor That which is above you – זִכְרוֹנוֹת כְּדֵי שֶׁיָּבֹא לְפָנַי זִכְרוֹנֵיכֶם לְטוֹבָה Remembrance, so that your remembrance should rise up before Me for the good. וּבַמֶּה בְּשׁוֹפָר And through what? – through the shofar! - Talmud Bavli 34b These three elements – Malkhyot, Zikhronot, and Shofrot, are actually a recipe for waking up out of the dreams of the mind and heart, into the full potential of the spacious field of Divine Being that we are at the deepest level. They form the three sections of the Musaf, but they are also something we can practice right now and always: We begin with Zikhronot- remembering. This is not a remembering something that happened in the past; it is remembering to bring our attention fully into the senses, out of the ever wandering thinking mind and into the richness of this moment. When we do this, there’s a transformation – everything appearing now in our field of experience – sensation, feeling, emotion, the arising and falling away of thought, everything present literally becomes like Shofrot – it all becomes like the sound of the ram’s horn, waking up out of the dream and into connection not just with the forms that are present in experience, but with the underlying Beingness of things, that which we call Hashem, the Divine. In becoming present with the truth of this moment, whatever is present serves to help us awaken more deeply. And from this awake-ness, there naturally arises a sense of openness and connection, a sense of receiving the truth of this moment from God’s hands, so to speak. This is Malkhuyot, bowing before the majesty of Existence as it is, and as it could be – which is the meaning of the Highest Divine Name, Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh – I Will be What I Will Be. If all of this seems confusing, that’s okay. But I wonder, even if these words are not completely clear, might there be something in you that resonates on some level, either with these words or maybe just with the energy of this special time that is now blossoming into being? Whatever resonance there might be, I want to encourage us all to nurture it. May this be a Rosh Hashanah, in the sense of Reishit HaShinui – the beginning of a change – a first step in a new transformation within each of us to move to the next level in our spiritual development both for ourselves and for bringing the best of ourselves to this world in need. This is our fifth year of being so blessed to be collaborating with Urban Adamah. May these holy days inspire us all to gather and learn and practice year round, b’khol yom – every day for those of us together in the Torah of Awakening community. And for those here who are visiting from other communities, may you receive inspiration to take the next steps on your paths. And for those who are not yet part of a spiritual community – perhaps this will be your first step in connecting on this level. Know that you are welcome whatever your background, whatever your experience – come come whoever you are, this is no caravan of despair…
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There’s a story that Rabbi Zevi Hirsh of Rymanov once complained to his teacher, Rabbi Menachem Mendel, that whenever he prayed, he saw fiery letters flash before his eyes.
“Ah – these are the mystical kavanot (contemplations) of our sacred master, Rabbi Isaac Luria,” replied Rabbi Mendel. “What cause do you have to complain?” “But I just want to pray in a simple way, from my heart! I don’t need these mystical visions!” answered the disciple. “What you have in mind is a very high level,” said Rabbi Mendel. “This is the level of having mystical experience, and then simply praying like a little child.” While all the paths reveal the many intricacies of spirituality, the path of reish is the recognition that we are in the Presence of something that is infinitely beyond anything the mind can comprehend. The paths give us a map, but ר reish reminds us that the map is not the Territory, and that the appropriate attitude to have towards the Territory is always awe, always “beginner’s mind.” The path of ר reish is knowing that Reality is beyond what we can possibly think in our heads. Reish ר actually means “head” (rosh, as in Rosh Hashanah) and also means “beginning,” as in the opening line of the Torah: בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית בָּרָ֣א אֱלֹהִ֑ים אֵ֥ת הַשָּׁמַ֖יִם וְאֵ֥ת הָאָֽרֶץ׃ In the beginning (BeReisheet) of Elohim creating heaven and earth… Rosh Hashanah is the “head” of the year, bringing the meanings of “head” and “beginning” together. There are actually four Rosh Hashanas – four “New Years” in the Jewish year, corresponding to four different letters in the alef-bet which all represent different kinds of “beginnings.” The ordinal beginning is א alef, which is the first letter of the alef-bet. The phonetic beginning is ה hei, because ה hei is the pure exhalation, the breath that is behind all vocalized sounds. The visual form of every letter begins with י yod, the “point” that is formed when the pen first touches the parchment in the writing of every letter. Reish ר is actually “beginning” in its meaning. When you combine these four letters together in a certain order, you get: יראה yirah – which means something like “awe,” “respect,” or “fear.” “Fear” is a bit misleading, as yirah is not a negative thing like “terror,” which can be paralyzing, but is rather an inspiring and motivating force. Yirah is more like “awe” and “respect,” the recognition of our vulnerability and the need for attentiveness and care, as in the way a mountain climber must be careful and attentive in their craft because of the danger involved. Yirah is knowing that we are in the Presence of the Divine, leading us to take seriously the needs of the moment; it is seeing this moment as “commandment.” ס֥וֹף דָּבָ֖ר הַכֹּ֣ל נִשְׁמָ֑ע אֶת־הָאֱלֹהִ֤ים יְרָא֙ וְאֶת־מִצְוֺתָ֣יו שְׁמ֔וֹר כִּי־זֶ֖ה כׇּל־הָאָדָֽם׃ The end of the matter, when all is heard: Be in awe of the Divine and guard Its commandments, for this is the whole person. כִּ֚י אֶת־כׇּל־מַֽעֲשֶׂ֔ה הָאֱלֹהִ֛ים יָבִ֥א בְמִשְׁפָּ֖ט עַ֣ל כׇּל־נֶעְלָ֑ם אִם־ט֖וֹב וְאִם־רָֽע׃ ס֥וֹף דָּבָ֖ר הַכֹּ֣ל נִשְׁמָ֑ע אֶת־הָאֱלֹהִ֤ים יְרָא֙ וְאֶת־מִצְוֺתָ֣יו שְׁמ֔וֹר כִּי־זֶ֖ה כׇּל־הָאָדָֽם׃ For all the works of the Divine are brought in judgment for all that is hidden, be it good or bad. The end of the matter, when all is heard: Be in awe of the Divine and guard Its commandments, for this is the whole person. - Kohelet (Ecclesiates) 12:13,14 Rabbi Moshe of Kobryn taught on this passage, “Whenever we come to the ‘end’ of anything, we will always hear this one maxim: Et HaElohim y’ra – ‘Be in yirah for the Divine.’ This is the Whole – there is not one thing in all the world that doesn’t teach us how to have yirah; all is mitzvah…” All is mitzvah – there is no aspect of life in which we are not participating in an incomprehensible miracle; to take this moment seriously is to step up to what this moment “asks” of us – it is to receive this moment from the hands of God, and finding the commandment within it. אַתֶּ֨ם נִצָּבִ֤ים הַיּוֹם֙ כֻּלְּכֶ֔ם לִפְנֵ֖י יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶ֑ם רָאשֵׁיכֶ֣ם שִׁבְטֵיכֶ֗ם זִקְנֵיכֶם֙ וְשֹׁ֣טְרֵיכֶ֔ם כֹּ֖ל אִ֥ישׁ יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃ You stand this day, all of you, before Hashem your Divinity—your tribal heads, your elders and your officials, every person of Israel… לְעָבְרְךָ֗ בִּבְרִ֛ית יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ וּבְאָלָת֑וֹ אֲשֶׁר֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ כֹּרֵ֥ת עִמְּךָ֖ הַיּֽוֹם׃ …to enter into the covenant (BRIT) of Hashem your Divinity, and with its oaths (ALAH) which Hashem your Divinity seals with you this day… - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 29:9, 11 אלה – ALAH is an interesting word; it can mean “oath,” but also “curse,” as well as “to lament” or “mourn.” One way to understand these meanings is that there will be suffering, a “curse” if we violate our oath, causing us then to lament and mourn. But on a deeper level, these meanings point to the recognition that although life certainly brings us lamenting and mourning (as expressed in the letter נ nun), we should nevertheless dedicate ourselves to the Divine (צ tzaddi) and to the work of affirming the sacred (ק koof), through practice (Netzakh) and lovingkindness (Hesed). Actually, we need not end there with Hesed; in truth, we could include all the paths and connect them to yirah and to ר reish, which is why reish and yirah are called the “Whole.” אֶת־הָאֱלֹהִ֤ים יְרָא֙ וְאֶת־מִצְוֺתָ֣יו שְׁמ֔וֹר כִּי־זֶ֖ה כׇּל־הָאָדָֽם׃ The end of the matter, when all is heard: Be in awe of the Divine and guard Its commandments, for this is the whole person. Another meaning of אלה Alah, “oath” is that when you slightly change the vowels, you get eleh – “these.” The Zohar says that the word eleh (“these”) refers to the ten sefirot, which can be incorrectly interpreted to be separate deities. This is the psychological tendency to fixate on parts of Reality and not see the Whole. To this, Kohelet responds: רָאִ֙יתִי֙ אֶת־כׇּל־הַֽמַּעֲשִׂ֔ים שֶֽׁנַּעֲשׂ֖וּ תַּ֣חַת הַשָּׁ֑מֶשׁ וְהִנֵּ֥ה הַכֹּ֛ל הֶ֖בֶל וּרְע֥וּת רֽוּחַ׃ I observed all the happenings beneath the sun, and I found that all is futile and pursuit of wind! - Kohelet (Ecclesiates) 1:14 All forms are temporary and ultimately unsatisfying; we should not make forms into gods, but rather focus on the Eternal Reality from which everything comes and to which everything eventually returns. As a remedy for this idolatrous tendency, the Zohar recommends a practice of inquiry in which one constantly asks the question, מי mi? meaning, “who?” Through the asking of “who,” we can come to realize the inner identity of all “these” different forces – eleh combines with mi, and becomes Elohim, and “these” are revealed to be part of the One Reality. This is yirah, the path of reish – the recognition of the Divine miracle that is now present. This is the opposite of living from ego, which is psychological identification with separateness. It means living in loving service of the One, which is presently manifest in and as all beings. But to do this, we need to make the effort; we must make an ALAH (oath) to know that ELEH (these) are really ELOHIM (One Reality that includes all plurality), and remember that when we forget this and worship the ELEH instead, this will only create more ALAH (suffering) for ourselves. This is the essence of teshuvah, the primary spiritual movement of this time of Elul – returning to the One that is ever-present, and to bring forth this awareness in our words and deeds, in yirat Hashem – awe of the Divine.
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Please Remove Your Shoes
The letter ק koof is associated with the root קדש K-D-Sh, which means “holy,” “sacred,” or “transcendent.” In particular, ק koof has to do with recognizing the sacred in the ordinary, the transcendent in the mundane. The passage of Moses’ encounter with the burning bush expresses this recognition: וַיֹּ֖אמֶר אַל־תִּקְרַ֣ב הֲלֹ֑ם שַׁל־נְעָלֶ֙יךָ֙ מֵעַ֣ל רַגְלֶ֔יךָ כִּ֣י הַמָּק֗וֹם אֲשֶׁ֤ר אַתָּה֙ עוֹמֵ֣ד עָלָ֔יו אַדְמַת־קֹ֖דֶשׁ הֽוּא׃ And (Hashem) said, “Do not come closer to here. Remove your sandals from your feet, for the Place upon which you stand is holy earth – admat kodesh...” - Shemot (Exodus) 3:5 שַׁל־נְעָלֶ֙יךָ֙ מֵעַ֣ל רַגְלֶ֔יךָ – Remove your sandals from your feet… Rabbi Moshe of Kobryn taught: “Remove the habitual which encloses your ‘foot’ – which comes between you and your experience of the world – and you will know that the place upon which you find yourself is holy; for there is no rung of human life on which we cannot find the holiness of the Divine everywhere and at all times.” In other words, the sacred dimension of being is ever accessible in all experiences, all encounters – we need only remove our conditioning, our habitual way of seeing things as mundane and unspiritual. How do we do this? Parshat Ki Tavo וְהָיָה֙ כִּֽי־תָבֹ֣וא אֶל־הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁר֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֔יךָ נֹתֵ֥ן לְךָ֖ נַחֲלָ֑ה וִֽירִשְׁתָּ֖הּ וְיָשַׁ֥בְתָּ בָּֽהּ׃ It will be when you come into the land that Hashem, your Divinity gives to you as an inheritance and you take possession of it and dwell within it… - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 26:1, Parshat Ki Tavo The parshah then goes on to talk about a special ritual of gratitude that involves putting the first fruit of one’s harvest into a basket, making a pilgrimage to the Temple, and offering the fruit in gratitude for having come out of slavery in Egypt, and into the the “land flowing with milk and honey.” וְהָיָה֙ כִּֽי־תָבֹ֣וא אֶל־הָאָ֔רֶץ V’hayah ki tavo el ha’aretz – It will be when you come into the land… On a simple level, this is a farmer’s gratitude ritual for the goodness of the produce of the earth. But on a deeper level, “coming into the land” means coming into the place you already are, being fully present with the “earth” – meaning, whatever happens to be present in the moment. וְהָיָה֙ כִּֽי־תָבֹ֣וא V’hayah ki tavo – It will BE when you come in… This is hinted at by V’hayah ki tavo – It will BE when you come in –meaning, entering the mode of Being. The word וְהָיָה v’hayah, “it will be,” actually consists of the letters of the Divine Name in a slightly different order. Thus, we might understand that to encounter the Divine, we need to “come into” the mode of Being. Our lives consist of both Doing and Being, but we tend to identify with the Doing mode. Doing is “going out” – reaching toward a goal we imagine in the future. This is how we create and accomplish things, which is wonderful and necessary. But if it is not balanced by the mode of Being, if there is total identification with the mind and with Doing, then there is no sacredness. There is also no peace or contentment, because one is constantly focused on a goal in the future; there is never any “arrival.” What is the solution? וְהָיָה֙ כִּֽי־תָבֹ֣וא אֶל־הָאָ֔רֶץ V’hayah ki tavo el ha’aretz – It will be when you come into the land… Come fully into the place that you are, by connecting your awareness with the aretz – the earth on which you dwell, this body through which you live, and with anything else that is perceived; this is Presence. The Basket of Gratitude וְלָקַחְתָּ֞ מֵרֵאשִׁ֣ית כׇּל־פְּרִ֣י הָאֲדָמָ֗ה V’lakakhta mereishit kol p’ri ha’adamah – You shall take from the first fruits of the earth… - 26:2 There is a “fruit” is ripening right now – that “fruit” is fulness of this moment; it is the “fruit” of all that has come before. Our “first fruit,” then, is the raw present, before we impose our conditioning upon it. The content of this moment is complex; it often contains both joy and suffering, and we may have stories and judgments about it. But before the stories, before the judgments, there is simply this life, this consciousness, meeting this moment as it is. When we descend deeply into ourselves, when we return from the journeys of the mind and into the reality of the naked present, it can dawn on upon us: there is a choice! We have the choice to hold this moment in the “basket” of gratitude. This is not a denial of suffering. In fact, it is often thanks to our suffering that we are awakened to those things that truly matter, to the blessings we are constantly receiving but often take for granted. And when we realize that this is in fact our choice, that we can choose to collect our “first fruits” in the “basket” of gratitude, we shift into awareness of the fundamental holiness of Reality, the sacredness of Being. This is the path of ק koof. When that happens, we can then say as the ancient farmer said: וַיּוֹצִאֵ֤נוּ יְהֹוָה֙ מִמִּצְרַ֔יִם Vayotzieinu Hashem mimitzrayim – Hashem brought us out of Egypt – Meaning – we are brought out of the contracted bundle of mind-identified ego (Mitzayim, “Egypt”) through simply being (Hashem, “Existence” or “Being”). וְשָׂמַחְתָּ֣ בְכׇל־הַטּ֗וֹב V’samakhta v’khol hatov – And then you will rejoice with all the goodness that you are given, you and the strangers among you... Heaven on Earth There is a passage in the morning prayers: כִּי הוּא לְבַדּוֹ מָרוֹם וְקָדוֹשׁ פּוֹעֵל גְּבוּרוֹת עֹשֶׂה חֲדָשׁוֹת בַּֽעַל מִלְחָמוֹת זוֹרֵֽעַ צְדָקוֹת מַצְמִֽיחַ יְשׁוּעוֹת בּוֹרֵא רְפוּאוֹת נוֹרָא תְהִלּוֹת אֲדוֹן הַנִּפְלָאוֹת For the Divine alone is exalted and holy, Doer of mighty deeds, Maker of newness; Master of battles, Sower of acts kindness, Causing salvation to sprout forth, Creator of remedies, Awesome in praise, Lord of wonders! Rabbi Barukh’s disciples came to him and asked, “Hashem is called ‘Creator of remedies, Awesome in praise, Lord of wonders.’ Why? Why should ‘remedies’ come before ‘praise’ and ‘wonders’? He answered, “Hashem does not want to be praised for supernatural miracles. And so here, through the mention of ‘remedies,’ Nature is introduced and put first; in this way it is clear that everything is a miracle and a wonder.” The Mystery of the Commonplace Many common experiences are completely ineffable and inexplicable, yet we take their reality for granted because they are so common. Like the flavor of food, for example. Or music – can you explain the experience of listening to music? Can we even know what music is? Of course not – music is a mystery. Flavor is a mystery. And yet, if someone says, “mmmmm” we understand they’re enjoying food, because we know that experience. If we see someone dancing to the rhythm, we know they are hearing the music. We can’t really explain it, but because we know the experience, we can recognize the outward signs of the experience in someone else. כִּֽי־הִנֵּ֤ה הַחֹ֙שֶׁךְ֙ יְכַסֶּה־אֶ֔רֶץ וַעֲרָפֶ֖ל לְאֻמִּ֑ים וְעָלַ֙יִךְ֙ יִזְרַ֣ח יְהוָ֔ה וּכְבוֹד֖וֹ עָלַ֥יִךְ יֵרָאֶֽה׃ Behold! Darkness shall cover the earth, and thick clouds the peoples; but upon you the Divine will shine, and Its Presence will be seen over you. - Isaiah 60:2, Haftora Ki Tavo What does this passage in the haftora mean – the Divine will shine and Its Presence will be seen? It sounds like a contradiction – if “darkness covers the earth,” how can the “Presence” be seen? But that’s the point – you cannot “see” the Divine any more than you can “see” the flavor of food, or “smell” the sound of music. The dimension ק koof, the sacred within the ordinary, is nevertheless not an uncommon experience; we know the outward signs of it, just like we recognize the savoring of food or dancing to music. What are the outward signs? הַמַּכִּיר אֶת מְקוֹמוֹ – Knowing one’s place - Pirkei Avot, 6:6 In the rabbinic wisdom text Pirkei Avot, there is a list of qualities one needs to acquire wisdom, and among them is hamakir et m’komo – knowing one’s place. It may sound like a negative thing, like being passive and not speaking up for yourself. But the word for knowing, makir, also means “friend” – so the “knowing” is like the knowing of a friend; it is a knowing of love, of relationship. The word for “one’s place” – m’komo – is a form of Makom, which is also a Divine Name. So, to be hamakir et m’komo means to “make friends” with the place you are actually in, right now, and thereby connect to the Divine Presence that shines beneath the surface of all things. When we encounter someone who practices this, we can recognize it – we sense an inner light, a friendly aliveness, a peaceful presence. We may not be able to conceptualize it or explain it – darkness shall cover the earth – but nevertheless there is the recognition – Its Presence will be seen. From this quality of making friends with the present moment, there naturally arises the next quality mentioned in the mishna: וְהַשָּׂמֵחַ בְּחֶלְקו – and being happy with one’s portion… It is good to appreciate what you’ve got. But to be truly samayakh b’helko – happy with one’s portion – we must realize what we are on the deepest level: וְעָלַ֙יִךְ֙ יִזְרַ֣ח יְהוָ֔ה וּכְבוֹד֖וֹ עָלַ֥יִךְ יֵרָאֶֽה – And upon you the Divine will shine, And Its Presence will be seen over you… This Presence, this Light, is what we are – it is the awareness that befriends this moment and expresses Itself as radiance and peace within the one who realizes. And yet, even though we are this Light, it is easily concealed; we must make the effort to realize this Light by coming to this moment as a friend, by being hamakir et m’komo – making friends even with our own darkness, with our own negativity. Because it is through Presence With the negativity – with the fear, with the anger, with the resentments, with the irritability – that we can reclaim the consciousness that has temporarily taken a negative form and transmute it back into Light. When that happens, it can then be said: ק֥וּמִי א֖וֹרִי כִּ֣י בָ֣א אוֹרֵ֑ךְ וּכְב֥וֹד יְהוָ֖ה עָלַ֥יִךְ זָרָֽח – Arise, shine, for your light has dawned; The Presence of the Divine has shone upon you! - Isaiah 60:1, Haftora Ki Tavo Conquering Darkness with Light There is a Hasidic story that the once the Jews of the town of Apt were threatened by a local decree against them and were in great distress, so the Rabbi of Apt issued a command for a universal fast in order to call down God’s mercy. But when Rabbi Yisrael of Rizhyn heard of the threat, he called for his favorite klezmorim (musicians) to come and play on his balcony every evening. As the sounds wafted down, a crowd of Hasidim would begin to gather below, and as the gathering grew, they would begin to dance. Word eventually came to the Rabbi of Apt of what was happening: “Rabbi! Your decree of a time of fasting has been turned into a time of rejoicing by Rabbi Yisrael!” The Rabbi of Apt responded by quoting a pasuk: וְכִֽי־תָבֹ֨אוּ מִלְחָמָ֜ה בְּאַרְצְכֶ֗ם עַל־הַצַּר֙ הַצֹּרֵ֣ר אֶתְכֶ֔ם וַהֲרֵעֹתֶ֖ם בַּחֲצֹצְר֑וֹת וֲנִזְכַּרְתֶּ֗ם לִפְנֵי֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם וְנוֹשַׁעְתֶּ֖ם מֵאֹיְבֵיכֶֽם׃ “When you come into battle in your land against an aggressor who attacks you, you shall sound the trumpets, that you may be remembered before Hashem your Divinity and be delivered from your enemies… - Bamidbar (Numbers) 10:9 “How can I judge someone who is taking this command of the Torah to heart?” In this story, the response of the Rabbi of Apt to the impending calamity is to impose austerity. This is a common traditional response; when life brings us danger, the practice is to try to avert the danger through asceticism. In this taking of suffering upon oneself on purpose, the belief is that you can stop the danger from manifesting externally. The logic of this type of approach comes from our ordinary experience of relationships. You may have experienced that when a person realizes they have wronged you, and they come to you with sincere apologies and grief, it is not difficult to forgive them. But there is also another path; instead of being repentant and sorrowful, the offender might do something so delightful that the offense is forgotten. This is often true in the case children! While children might occasionally be sorry, usually their offenses are forgiven when they do something adorable. In terms of Kabbalah, the ascetic approach is the path of Gevurah, while the approach of delight is the path of Tiferet. In the story, it is the playing of music that draws down Divine compassion, hence the association of Tiferet with “beauty” and “splendor,” which are straightforward translations of Tiferet, but also with “compassion,” or rakhamim. Another dimension of the story is the description of the scene: the musicians play up on the balcony, and the music wafts downward to the gathering Hasidim below, who begin to dance. This is the transcendent beauty of Tiferet above, arousing Yesod below, which represents the foundational functions of joy and community. In addition to the association of Tiferet with beauty and compassion, Tiferet is also associated with emet, truth. …תורָתְךָ אֱמֶת: תִּתֵּן אֱמֶת לְיַעֲקב. חֶסֶד לְאַבְרָהָם Your Torah is Truth; Grant Truth to Jacob, Kindness to Abraham… - Atah Kadosh liturgy (weekday Shakharit, Shabbat Minkha, Motzei Shabbat Maariv) In this liturgical text, Abraham is associated with Hesed/Kindness, while Jacob is associated with Emet/Truth. In Kabbalah, the three patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, come to be associated with three sefirot, Hesed, Gevurah and Tiferet; hence the association of Tiferet with Truth. But this is strange – how can Tiferet represent beauty and compassion, and also truth? Beauty and compassion make sense; we experience beauty, and this arouses compassion. But to have compassion, we often have to ignore truth to some degree; we overlook the truth of a person’s guilt in order to respond compassionately. Furthermore, beauty is often an external effect that covers up truth, as when a person puts on makeup or dyes their hair. We can “photoshop” an image to make a person look more beautiful than they actually are. In recording, we can digitally “fix” a person’s voice when they sing off key, hiding the truth of how they actually sang. There is a hint to this riddle in the parshah: אֶת־יְהוָ֥ה הֶאֱמַ֖רְתָּ הַיּ֑וֹם לִהְיוֹת֩ לְךָ֨ לֵֽאלֹהִ֜ים וְלָלֶ֣כֶת בִּדְרָכָ֗יו וְלִשְׁמֹ֨ר חֻקָּ֧יו וּמִצְוֺתָ֛יו וּמִשְׁפָּטָ֖יו וְלִשְׁמֹ֥עַ בְּקֹלֽוֹ׃ You say today that Existence Itself will be for you as God, that you will walk in Its ways, that you will guard Its practices and commandments and ethical rules, and that you will listen to Its Voice. וַֽיהוָ֞ה הֶאֱמִֽירְךָ֣ הַיּ֗וֹם לִהְי֥וֹת לוֹ֙ לְעַ֣ם סְגֻלָּ֔ה כַּאֲשֶׁ֖ר דִּבֶּר־לָ֑ךְ וְלִשְׁמֹ֖ר כָּל־מִצְוֺתָֽיו׃ And Existence Itself affirms today that you are to It a treasured people, as said to you, and to guard all of Its commandments, וּֽלְתִתְּךָ֣ עֶלְי֗וֹן עַ֤ל כָּל־הַגּוֹיִם֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר עָשָׂ֔ה לִתְהִלָּ֖ה וּלְשֵׁ֣ם וּלְתִפְאָ֑רֶת וְלִֽהְיֹתְךָ֧ עַם־קָדֹ֛שׁ לַיהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ כַּאֲשֶׁ֥ר דִּבֵּֽר׃ And you will be set far above the nations that were made, for praise and fame and splendor (Tiferet), and you will be a holy people to Hashem your Divinity, as said. - Deuteronomy 26.17-19 This passage describes the benefits that the Children of Israel will receive for living in alignment with the Divine. Each of these qualities are aspects of Tiferet: עֶלְיוֹן Elyon – exalted, above, transcendent; this is Tiferet in relation to Malkhut, as Tiferet is symbolized by the Sun, and Malkhut by the Earth. לִתְהִלָּה Lit’hilah – “for praise,” particularly through song. This is the beauty of music, as in the story above. The Psalms, which were sung by the Levites in the temple, are called Tehilim. לְשֵׁם L’shem – “for name” meaning “famous.” The artists and musicians are the beloved icons of culture, the celebrities that embody the beauty and transcendence of Tiferet. תִפְאָ֑רֶת L’tifaret – for Tiferet! That is, for “beauty” or “splendor.” But how are we to receive all this Tiferet? אֶת־יְהוָ֥ה הֶאֱמַ֖רְתָּ הַיּ֑וֹם לִהְיוֹת֩ לְךָ֨ לֵֽאלֹהִ֜ים You say today that Existence Itself will be for you as God… The qualities of Tiferet come not merely from doing the mitzvot, but from verbally expressing the Reality of the Sacred. In other words, they result from expressing the truth of our deepest recognition. This is the underlying message of the Jewish idea of brit, of covenant: The Torah is not merely the legislation of right action, but the commitment to bear witness to the truth of the sacred. In this way, beauty and compassion come not to cover up truth, but arise as expressions of it. This expression of the truth of the sacred is the path of ק koof.
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The Cow in the Field
Once, I was in the Oakland Airport with my family, preparing to board a plane to Tucson. After checking our suitcases, we arrived at security to find an incredibly long line, winding around rope dividers and culminating with a tiny funnel into only two security gates. There were several more gates that could have been opened to move things along, but for whatever reason, they were not staffed and were closed. Right in front of us, a middle-aged man started cursing angrily. “What the %$^$ is going on here? Why don’t they ^%&$*# open the other gates??” He started verbally abusing the security person looking at IDs and checking tickets. He demanded to speak to a supervisor. When the supervisor arrived, he cursed him out too. The supervisor said, “You just hold that thought, and I’ll go get someone for you to speak to.” I was sorry that my then three-year-old girl had to hear that language. I was bracing myself for some police to come and wrestle this guy to the ground. Strangely, no police showed up. Instead, he just kept on cursing and venting all the way through the line. When it was time to remove our shoes and put our laptops in separate bins, I didn’t want to aggravate him more with our clumsy family choreography, so I offered to him that he go ahead of us. “Nah, that’s okay,” he said, “I have plenty of time, I’m just mad about how they’re running this place.” He had plenty of time! I saw an interview once with an Indian spiritual teacher who had a novel way of explaining the spiritual path that I had never heard before. He said that the “self” is like a cow in a pasture. The cow always wants to wander outside the field and into the town or woods, but when she does, she gets attacked by wild animals, kids throw rocks, people shoot guns. Eventually, she figures out she’s better off to just stay in her own field. The “field” is the inner heart. When the “self” dwells in the inner heart, according to this teacher, it enjoys union with the Divine. When it gets tempted and wanders outside the heart, it always ends up suffering. So, in this teaching, the aim is to learn to keep yourself in the cave of your heart. That’s it. To me, this is a wonderful description of Presence, particularly the practice of keeping awareness anchored in the body and the heart. To be anchored in the body means that the mind is no longer wandering off into paths of thought, but is staying connected to the senses and hence to the present moment. To be “in the heart” means to have the attitude of offering your attention to the fulness of the moment from the heart, so that simply being is an acy of love. To “wander outside the heart” means to lose this connection with the body and with heartfulness by wandering into the ever-blossoming pathways of the thinking mind, which in its continuous thinking can dream up something wonderful one moment, but then change to a nightmare in the next. I thought of this teaching when I saw this guy in the airport. Even if he was going to miss his flight and his plans would be all disrupted, what is it that is really creating all his suffering, and hence the suffering of those around him? Of course, nothing but his mind. The mind creates all these stories and gets all excited about them. It was even more telling to learn that he wasn’t even going to be late; he was just out to make some enemies, to do some warfare. Parshat Ki Tetzei כִּֽי־תֵצֵ֥א לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹֽיְבֶ֑יךָ וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ וְשָׁבִ֥יתָ שִׁבְיֽוֹ When you go to battle your enemies, Hashem your Divinity gives them into your hand, and you capture their captivity… - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 21:10, Parshat Ki Tetzei When we leave the sacred place of the heart, when we leave our connection with the present moment and travel the labyrinth of the mind and its necessarily self-centered stories, we create our enemies and battles. וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ וְשָׁבִ֥יתָ שִׁבְיֽוֹ – Hashem your Divinity gives them into your hand and you capture its captivity… It’s a strange construction – וְשָׁבִ֥יתָ שִׁבְיֽו v’shavita shivyo – “capture its captivity.” But if we understand that it is we who are captured by seeing the world as our enemy “out there,” then we need to “capture our captivity” – meaning, we need to know that we are bigger than any of those ensnaring mental narratives. How do we do it? We can do it by understanding – וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ untano Hashem Elohekha b’yadekha – Existence, which is not separate from our own Divine nature, is giving this moment into our hands. This realization has both a passive and active aspect; it is both surrender and empowerment: surrender to the truth of what is, rather than fighting with our idea of what is, and also empowerment to dedicate ourselves to serve the Divine as this moment comes to us – to dwell in the cave of the heart, to respond not from ego, but from the Divinity that we are. This is the path of צ tzaddie, the practice of dedicating our full selves to the One. The Mitzvah of Destruction It once happened that a large group of hassidim went to visit Reb Yitzhak of Vorki in a village near Warsaw. In their enthusiasm to get to their rebbe more quickly, they cut through a field of a wealthy land owner and damaged his crops with their trampling. One of the employees of the land owner, by the name of Moshe, saw what the hassidim had done. He himself a hassid, so he followed them to the rebbe. When they all arrived, Moshe stormed into the rebbe’s room and cried, “You must hear what these idiots have done – they have trampled my master’s crops! They should be beaten for this! In fact, it would be a mitzvah to beat them!” – for this was the custom among wealthy land owners of that time. Reb Yitzhak gave no answer. Assuming that the rebbe agreed with his view, the angry man strode out to have the hassidim beaten. But the tzaddik called him back and said, “When you perform a mitzvah, you must articulate your holy intention by first contemplating and pronouncing the evocation that begins ‘l’shem yikhud- for the sake of the Unification.’ Since you are a hassid, you should also purify yourself for the holy act by immersing yourself in the waters of a mikveh (ritual bath). So, after you go to the mikveh, then chant l’shem yikhud devoutly, then go ahead and perform your mitzvah…” Moshe’s attitude shifted visibly, and he left without another word. Never Give Up Part of the function of a spiritual teacher is to wake up our tzaddik within, that level of our being beyond ego. But this can only help us in the long term if it leads to the commitment to try to live from our inner tzaddik, moment to moment. This is the most challenging work, but we must never give up, no matter how many times we may fail. There’s a story of Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sasov, that once he travelled through many villages trying to collect funds so that he could liberate the poor Jews who were incarcerated in the Ukrainian debtor’s prison. Day after day, he went from door to door pleading the case of those poor souls rotting away in the dungeon, but no one would contribute anything. After weeks of failure, feeling dejected and frustrated, he gave up and set out to return home, regretting having wasted all that time he could have spent learning and praying. But just as he approached his house, a woman ran up to him in a panic: “Rabbi, my husband was caught stealing a piece of clothing and was viciously beaten by the police and thrown in jail!” Without hesitation, the rabbi turned around and went to intercede with the judge. After much effort, he was able to get the prisoner released. When he went to fetch the prisoner from jail, he sternly warned him: “Remember the beating they gave you and don’t ever do anything like that again!” “Why not?” replied the thief, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!” Upon hearing his words, the rabbi resolved to return to his task of raising money to ransom prisoners, and eventually was highly successful in paying their debs and liberating many. Only One Thing There is a debt must be paid for our inner freedom as well. We too must not give up “raising the funds” – meaning, we too must bring our attention fully to each moment, to each situation, to each feeling, to each reaction, to each thought. Again and again – we might get caught, absorbed and coopted by whatever is arising in our experience, but don’t give up! The real danger is never failure; it is allowing our failures to develop into the belief that inner freedom is impossible. It is true – our experiences have a certain gravity; we tend to be captured by them, but we can “capture” them instead – if we remember that we are far more vast than any impulse, than any experience. We are, in essence, the open space within which this moment unfolds. We must constantly remember this one thing. כִּֽי־תֵצֵ֥א לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹֽיְבֶ֑יךָ וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ וְשָׁבִ֥יתָ שִׁבְיֽוֹ When you go to battle your enemies, Hashem your Divinity gives them into your hand, and you capture their captivity… Life is, in a sense, like a battle ground. If you want to liberate your heart and live from your inner tzaddik, you have to be one pointed and relentless, like a warrior. And yet, וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ – Hashem your Divinity gives them into your hand – the victory is a gift placed in our hands by the Divine; it is not something we win through effort. This is the paradox: on one hand, we’ve got to have unshakable will, and on the other, total surrender. In fact, there’s no contradiction, because the unconscious impulse is to struggle, to fight with Reality, to go out from the heart lamilkhama al oyevekha– to battle your enemies. If we wish to conquer this impulse to struggle, we must be relentless in our surrender. אַחַ֤ת שָׁאַ֣לְתִּי מֵֽאֵת־יְהוָה֮ אֹותָ֪הּ אֲבַ֫קֵּ֥שׁ שִׁבְתִּ֣י בְּבֵית־יְ֭הוָה כָּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיַּ֑י לַחֲזֹ֥ות בְּנֹֽעַם־יְ֝הוָ֗ה וּלְבַקֵּ֥ר בְּהֵיכָלֹֽו Only One Thing I ask of the Divine, this I seek: to dwell in the House of the Divine all the days of my life and meditate in Its Sanctuary… These words from Psalm 27, traditionally recited this time of year, are an affirmation of this kavanah, this “ransoming” of our inner freedom through the “funds” of consciousness we must collect in every moment, every situation, every feeling, every thought: Above every goal, above every desire, there is only one thing. קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־יְה֫וָ֥ה חֲ֭זַק וְיַאֲמֵ֣ץ לִבֶּ֑ךָ וְ֝קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־יְהוָֽה Kaveh el Hashem, hazak v’ya’ameitz libekha, v’kaveh el Hashem – Hope to the Divine, be strong and your heart will be courageous, hope to the Divine! A disciple of Rabbi Yaakov Yosef, the Seer of Lublin, had been fasting all week and was traveling to spend Shabbos with his master. On the way, he came upon a well, and was suddenly overcome with an uncontrollable thirst. He thought he might die if he didn’t drink some of that water! Involuntarily, he drew some water from the well and brought the cup to his lips, when suddenly he realized – “If I drink now, I will have nullified my entire fast! Just a few more hours to go!” And with that, he managed to overcome temptation and walk away from the well. But then he noticed within himself a bit of pride that he had withstood the test. “Better that I drink and nullify my entire fast than have this pride!” He went back to the well and again began to draw some water, when to his astonishment, he realized that his thirst had completely disappeared. So, he returned to his journey without drinking any water. When he arrived at the home of his master, the Seer greeted him harshly, barking at him: “Patchwork!” In Martin Buber’s short book, The Way of Man, he tells this story and talks about his own contemplation of its meaning. “Why was the Seer so harsh with the disciple?” he wondered. He eventually came to understand the meaning of the story by asking the question, “What is the opposite of ‘patchwork?’” The opposite of patchwork, he answers, is “of a piece.” In other words, the Seer scolds the disciple because he was not one within himself; he was second guessing, going back and forth, not deciding on a path and walking it. A common misconception on the spiritual path is that spiritual practices alone can produce a unity within ourselves. While it is true that spiritual practices can help us perceive the unity that is already there, that is, the unity of consciousness itself, beneath all the conflicting forces of our various experiences, we still must forge that unity in how we approach the practices; we must decide on the spiritual path and walk it whole-heartedly. This self-unifying part of the work should be done before we fast, before we sit down to meditate, pray, study, or whatever. We must always unify ourselves in the decision to practice first; our practices will not accomplish this for us. And if we fail to do this, our practices won’t have any lasting endurance; we will give up. This is why the first path is Keter, the “Crown,” which is the act of unifying ourselves through the power of intention before we traverse any of the other paths. But what goal is our unifying intention to be directed toward? It is the dedication of our full selves to serving the Divine – the path of צ tzaddie – to bring forth and live from our Divine potential. This potential to devote ourselves to living from our highest selves is ever-present, but to do so we must recognize the ever-present choice to overcome the forces of inner “wishy-washy-ness” and become “of a piece.” Paradoxically, the more we are able to become one in our devotion to the One, the more we are able to transcend the decision-making mind and know the deepest level of who and what we are, beyond all forms that come and go in experience – the open space of awareness itself. This is the fruit of the practice, and it comes to us by Grace; we cannot force it to happen, but it is given to us when we give ourselves completely to the Path. כִּֽי־תֵצֵ֥א לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹֽיְבֶ֑יךָ – Ki teitzei – When you go out… The word כִּי ki is usually translated as “when” but it can also mean “because.” Translated this way, it is because we make the effort to go out from our inertia and conditioning; it is because we engage the inner battle to forge a unity within and fully step onto the spiritual path with commitment; it is because we make that effort that: וּנְתָנ֞וֹ יְהֹוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ בְּיָדֶ֖ךָ – Hashem your Divinity gives them into your hand… Again, paradox: The fruit of the path is not something we control with our decisiveness, it is “put in our hand” by Grace. And yet, it is given to us כי ki – because we have made the effort to dedicate ourselves to the Divine. This is the path of צ tzaddie, to dedicate our full selves to the One. Then, through the meeting of effort with Grace: וְשָׁבִ֥יתָ שִׁבְיֽוֹ – and you capture their captivity… The more that the inner fruit ripens, the less effort is needed to unify ourselves, because the more we experience the goodness of this “fruit,” the less temptation there is to waver; the less distraction there is from the Goal. We experience the benefit for ourselves, and we know. And yet, it is crucial to not think that we’ve “made it.” As numerous stories and teachings tell us, the true tzaddik does not think that they are a tzaddik at all. Knowing this protects us from the trap of thinking that we are exempt from continuing to walk the path; realization must always be accompanied by humility. On the Integral Tree, this is depicted by the juxtaposition of Netzakh, which means “Victory,” with Hod, which is associated with humility. With humility, we can remain vigilant to the inner danger that ego can coopt even the most sublime spiritual attainment – as they say, the higher you climb, the harder you fall… The Success of Failure כִּ֤י תִבְנֶה֙ בַּ֣יִת חָדָ֔שׁ וְעָשִׂ֥יתָ מַעֲקֶ֖ה לְגַגֶּ֑ךָ וְלֹֽא־תָשִׂ֤ים דָּמִים֙ בְּבֵיתֶ֔ךָ כִּֽי־יִפֹּ֥ל הַנֹּפֵ֖ל מִמֶּֽנּוּ When you build a new house, make a parapet for the roof, and you won’t bring blood upon your house when one falls from it… - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 22:8, Parshat Ki Tetzei The fact that the Torah talks about preventing a person from falling off the roof by building a protective barrier implies that, indeed, people must have fallen off of rooves; it was probably the failure to anticipate this danger that led to the law of making a ma’akeh (parapet). Similarly, when we become aware of our own spiritual failures in the past, we too can build some kind of ma’akeh, some kind of protective fence to prevent the same thing from happening again. There are two main types of spiritual failures: mistakes and temporary insanity. A mistake would be: you’re up on the roof and you’re goofing around, not paying attention, or maybe you just miscalculated your footsteps and you fall of the roof, God forbid. Temporary insanity would be: you’re up on the roof with someone, you get into a fight and push them off the roof, God forbid. You didn’t intend to hurt them; you just got angry and lost control. The ma’akeh prevents both types of scenarios. Whether accidental or by temporary insanity, the parapet prevents a person from falling. There’s a hint in the wording of the pasuk: “one who falls” is יִפֹּל הַנֹּפֵל yipol hanofel – literally, “will fall, the falling.” The repeating of the verb “fall” is an idiom of emphasis, but also hints that the ma’akeh can prevent both the accidental and the impulsive falling crisis. Similarly, we too can take measures to prevent ourselves from repeating our misdeeds, whether they be accidental or impulsive. To do that, we need to see our lives clearly, contemplate, and create our own “parapets.” This is the transformative part of teshuvah, the main practice of the month of Elul in which this parshah falls. There is yet a third kind of spiritual failure, one that is far more difficult to prevent. This is the misdeed of habit, the misdeed that has become part of one’s personality and lifestyle – such as addiction, relationship dysfunction, abuse, and so on. The more emmeshed we become in the negative behavior, the less likely we are to change it. And yet, we absolutely can change it. This is the deepest and most transformative kind of teshuvah. Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev once came upon a wealthy man in the street who was known to be abusive with his money and power. “Oh, I envy you sir!” said Levi Yitzhak. The rasha (evil person) looked proudly at Levi Yitzhak, thinking that the rabbi wished he too could have all that money and power. But then Levi Yitzhak continued, “I envy you, because when you finally return, when you finally do teshuvah, all your sins will be transformed into magnificent lights, and what a brilliant spectacle that will be! Oh sir, I envy you that brilliance!” These three types of misdeeds – accidental, impulsive and intentional, are three main types of “sins” mentioned in the liturgy: het means “missing the mark,” as in shooting an arrow and missing the target. This is the accident. An aveira is crossing over a boundary impulsively; you accept that there is a boundary, but you become possessed by strong feelings and you violate it. Lastly, an avon is a misdeed that is not a mistake and is not impulsive; it has become part of how you operate. The avon cannot be prevented by any kind of ma’akeh; you can’t “trick yourself” out of this kind of misdeed. For the avon, you actually have to choose differently; you have to turn completely from ego and bring forth your inner tzaddik. These three kinds of “sin” are different from each other, but for a person who wants to become free from them, there is a single ingredient is needed. Whether we are merely setting a boundary to prevent mistakes and impulsivity, or we are seeking to overcome a deeply ingrained behavior, the root of all transformation on any level is the application of Presence. The outer teshuvah of returning to intentional action is rooted in the inner teshuvah of bringing our awareness out from its compulsive preoccupation with thought (which ordinarily reinforces our patterns), and into our actual present experience, into our senses, into our bodies. In doing so, acceptance and forgiveness of the past is natural and spontaneous, as the pain we cause ourselves by holding on to the past becomes blatantly obvious. And not only that, but the more we bring our attention to this moment, the more we can see that we are the awareness of this moment. We are openness, we are free, and we are in no way trapped by the past or by habit. In Presence, the power to choose reveals itself. Dedicating the Whole Self Whenever I travel, I am always amazed that I can draw together the clothing, toiletries, books, computer equipment, etc., and pack them all into a single suitcase. It actually seems miraculous to me, that all the disparate items can come together into a single whole. But miraculous as that is, it is nothing compared to the miracle of Presence: that through the simple shift of opening to the immediacy of actual experience, all the disparate chaos comes together into the “suitcase” of the present moment; in Presence, there is no longer “me” and “that” – there is only the fullness of the what is, in all its richness, arising within and falling back into the one field of awareness that we are. The haftora says: בְּרֶ֥גַע קָטֹ֖ן עֲזַבְתִּ֑יךְ וּבְרַחֲמִ֥ים גְּדֹלִ֖ים אֲקַבְּצֵֽךְ For a tiny moment I forsook you, but with a vast compassion I will gather you together… - Isaiah 54:7 When we “gather together” our awareness into the fullness of the present, there is paradoxically a vastness and a benevolence – a rakhamim gedolim that is our own nature, revealing all past misdeeds for what they really are: tiny moments of forgetfulness arising and disappearing into the vastness of Being. From this vastness, from this awareness that leaves nothing out, we can (once again) dedicate all of it, in all of its disparate complexity, to the One Reality, and to remember (once again) the One Thing we seek – to dwell in the House of the Divine all of our days, day by day. This is the path of צ tzaddie, the gathering together of our full selves in dedication and devotion to the One.
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The Greatness of Not Being So Great
There’s a story about Rabbi Yaakov Yitzhak, the “Seer” of Lublin, that once he was confronted by his nemesis, Rabbi Azriel Hurwitz. Rabbi Hurwitz was the Rav, the chief rabbi of Lublin, and was known as the “Iron Head” because he was such a giant of Torah learning. He was often enraged by the Seer’s power to attract followers to himself. “You yourself admit that you are not a tzaddik (perfected master); why do you continue to mislead the people by allowing them to come and follow you?” said the Iron Head. “What can I do?” replied the Seer, “The people rejoice in my teachings, so they come.” “This is what you must do,” said the Iron Head. “Next Shabbos, tell them that you are nothing special, that you don’t deserve their adoration.” The Seer agreed. Next Shabbos, when many hassidim came to hear the Seer teach, he told them that he was nothing special, and that they shouldn’t give him honors that he didn’t deserve. But, when they heard his self-deprecations, their hearts were set aflame even more, and they loved him and followed him even more for being so humble. Later the next week, the Seer told the Iron Head what had happened. The rav thought for a moment, then said, “Ah, that’s the way it is with you hassidim – you love humility! Here is what you should do. Next Shabbos, tell them that you really are a great tzaddik; tell them that you are God’s chosen one, that you have come to save the Jewish people!” “That I cannot do,” replied the Seer, “I am not a tzaddik, but neither am I a liar!” Another time, the Iron Head was berating the Seer as usual for the crowds he attracted. “I am so much more learned than you, yet they don’t throng to me!” “I too am astonished by this,” replied the Seer, “For my learning is not very great, and it is well known that your learning moves mountains. But perhaps the reason they come to me because I am astonished that they come to me, and the reason they don’t come to you is because you are astonished that they don’t come to you.” The tzaddik, or spiritual master, is characterized by the quality of humility; this is the paradox of the tzaddik, that they do not think they are a tzaddik. This is represented by the position of the letter צ tzaddie on the Integral Tree (our version of the Tree of Life), connecting the sefirot of Yesod and Hod. Yesod, which means “Foundation,” is life energy – the magnetic and charismatic joy of being – and hints that the tzaddik dedicates all their life energy and charisma to serving the Divine. Hod, which means “Glory” or “Splendor,” is associated with the qualities of both humility and gratitude. This association stems from the word הודאה hoda’ah, which can mean confession, conceding an argument, and also grattitude, as in the morning prayer מידה אני Modeh/Modah Ani, which is chanted upon awakening to give thanks for being alive another day. The life energy of joy and charisma (Yesod) is not typically paired with humility (Hod), which tends to be a personality trait of dampened joy and charisma. But the path of צ tzaddie shows that they can be joined in the persona of the tzaddik when life energy is dedicated to the Divine, to joyfully serving That which is beyond the self. This supreme quality of צ tzaddie may seem far fetched, beyond reach for most people. And yet, it is not in any way something remote or separate from us; it is, in fact, the essence of who we are: וְעַמֵּךְ֙ כֻּלָּ֣ם צַדִּיקִ֔ים לְעוֹלָ֖ם יִ֣ירְשׁוּ אָ֑רֶץ נֵ֧צֶר מַטָּעַ֛י מַעֲשֵׂ֥ה יָדַ֖י לְהִתְפָּאֵֽר׃ And your people are all tzaddikim, forever they will possess the land; They are the branch of My planting, the work of My hands, in which I glory… - Isaiah 60:21 The context in this verse from Isaiah is that it is talking about the future, that all of us are potentially tzaddikim and that we will eventually evolve into being tzaddikim. But these words are also used as the introductory verse to each chapter of the wisdom text Pirkei Avot, as if to encourage the reader: don’t be disheartened! To be a tzaddik is our Essence; we need only to become transparent to our It. We cannot own It or possess It; we cannot try to claim it as an identity. Rather, it shines through when the ego bows to It. But how do we do that? Parshat Shoftim שֹׁפְטִ֣ים וְשֹֽׁטְרִ֗ים תִּֽתֶּן־לְךָ֙ בְּכָל־שְׁעָרֶ֔יךָ אֲשֶׁ֨ר יְהוָ֧ה אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ נֹתֵ֥ן לְךָ֖ לִשְׁבָטֶ֑יךָ וְשָׁפְט֥וּ אֶת־הָעָ֖ם מִשְׁפַּט־צֶֽדֶק׃ Judges and officers you shall appoint for yourselves in all your gates– which Hashem your Divinity gives you– for your tribes, and they shall judge the people with justice. - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 16:18, Parshat Shoftim In the plain meaning, this is the instruction to set up a just legal system. But on a deeper level, putting “judges and officers” in your “gates” means first of all to see your thoughts clearly and to know that they are only thoughts. Ordinarily, we tend to be wrapped up in constant thinking, never stopping to reflect: “Ah, there is a thought… and there is another thought.” But when we simply acknowledge the fact that thoughts are just thoughts, there can arise the realization that we are not merely our thoughts; we are not bound by our ego-self, which is based on thought. This seeing and acknowledging of thought is represented by the שֹׁפְטִים shoftim – the “judges.” Once we recognize that thoughts are only thoughts, that they are not the essence of who we are, we can then choose which thoughts to think and which thoughts to allow to dissipate. It is appropriate that the rav in the story was called the Iron Head, because he was so rich in knowledge – he had greatly cultivated his thinking mind – but his thoughts were like iron; he was locked in the prison of his mind. He was completely stuck in ego – that is, he was stuck in that sense of self created from thought. If he had a bit of objectivity on his own mind, he would have realized that his thoughts of being threatened by the Seer and his urge to attack him and knock him down were not useful thoughts; they only served to keep him trapped. He would have said, “Oh well, that’s the old ego” (yetzer hara) and simply let those thoughts go. This second step, that of choosing to use our minds rather than be used by our minds, is represented by the שֹֽׁטְרִ֗ים – shotrim, the “officers.” Once we have a clear, objective view on our own minds (shoftim), we then have the power to choose which thoughts are worth keeping and which ones are not (shotrim). This leads us to the famous verse: צֶ֥דֶק צֶ֖דֶק תִּרְדֹּ֑ף לְמַ֤עַן תִּֽחְיֶה֙ וְיָרַשְׁתָּ֣ אֶת־הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁר יְיְ אֱלֹהֶ֖יךָ נֹתֵ֥ן לָֽךְ׃ Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may live and possess the land that the Hashem your Divinity gives you… - 16:20 צֶדֶק צֶדֶק – Tzedek tzedek – “justice” is written twice, to hint: this is not only the execution of justice in the world; we must also work to see the world in a way that is un-biased. We must “judge the judge,” so to speak, by knowing that thought is just thought, and then consciousy choosing which thoughts to think. To do this, we must know the dimension of our own being that is beyond ego, the dimension of simple awareness, so that we can drop our attachment to thought and thereby let go of our need for validation, for praise and for status – then the tzaddik nature can shine through quite naturally. There Goes the Neighborhood One time, I stepped out onto the front porch just before the sun set to daven Minkha – the afternoon prayers. It was such a beautiful evening- rays of pink and orange from the descending sun flickered through dancing leaves in the cool breeze of our Oakland neighborhood. I began to sing the words with eyes closed- “Ashrei yoshvei veitekha- Joyful are those who dwell in your house…” Suddenly, I was startled by a harsh female voice calling to me: “Excuse me, are you meditating and praying?” “Yes,” I answered politely. I opened my eyes to see a woman standing on the sidewalk right in front of me. She over-smiled mockingly and grotesquely, then dropped the smile, revealing a sinister and angry face. “You are engaging in r-r-r-repetitive prayers?” she spurted with a theatrically rolled “R.” She thrust her neck at me and circled her head with her fingers, as if to mock the kippa I was wearing. “Do you live on this street?” I asked her. “You mean do I live in a house?” she yelled at me, “Because I see you certainly live in a house! You sit there in your house with your nonsensical prayers, asking me where I live??” She continued up the sidewalk in a rampage – “Look at this guy in his house! Saying his prayers and meditating!” she screamed and yelled as she continued up the street… then she was gone. When you hear this story, what is your impression? I imagine people will hear this story in different ways. Some will be shocked at the woman’s behavior, while others will be moved by the problem of homelessness, and others will wonder what I did next. The human mind understands what happens in terms of its own narratives. These narratives are not even necessarily conscious; they are mostly in the background and taken for granted as truth. For example, what if this same scenario unfolded, except that the characters were actors in a play? Imagine you were an actor. You played the guy on the porch, and your friend played the woman. When the play was over, there would be no emotional residue. After all, the play wasn’t real – you and your friend were just acting, so there would be no lingering emotional charge. But when someone comes and assaults you verbally for real in the course of your day, what experience might arise then? For most of us, there would be a sense of being threatened. There may be anger, an urge to retaliate, to defend, and so on. Probably, the first reaction would not be compassion. My immediate reaction was certainly not compassion, even though that woman was probably mentally ill. Even though I am incredibly privileged – not just with a house, not just with friends and family who would help me if I were to lose my house, but with a mind that is, for the most part, sane and capable. She seemed not to be privileged in that way. But, even if you, like me, may not feel compassion in the moment when someone is verbally attacking you, you still can be committed to compassion; this is the path of צ tzaddie – knowing that the tzaddik nature is there within you, even if it is not your immediate experience in the moment. The content of our experience constantly changes, but behind that change is awareness, and within that awareness is the potential of צ tzaddie, the potential to embody our Divine nature. שֹׁפְטִ֣ים וְשֹֽׁטְרִ֗ים תִּֽתֶּן־לְךָ֙ בְּכָל־שְׁעָרֶ֔יךָ Shoftim v’shotrim titein l’kha b’khol sh’arekha – Judges and officers you shall appoint for yourselves in all your gates... The mind has its automatic judgments, but this verse is telling us to intentionally “appoint judges in your gates” – meaning, be aware of your preconceptions, your patterns, and don’t be limited by them; remember That to which you are devoted. Then, you can consciously choose how to frame your experience in your thoughts, and consequently choose how to act as well; these are the “officers.” Fearless Still, our reactive impulses can be incredibly powerful and seductive; it is crucial to not be afraid of our experience, to know that we are bigger than any particular impulse: שְׁמַ֣ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל אַתֶּ֨ם קְרֵבִ֥ים הַיּ֛וֹם לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹיְבֵיכֶ֑ם אַל־יֵרַ֣ךְ לְבַבְכֶ֗ם אַל־תִּֽירְא֧וּ וְאַֽל־תַּחְפְּז֛וּ וְאַל־תַּֽעַרְצ֖וּ מִפְּנֵיהֶֽם׃ Hear, O Israel! You are near, today, to battle against your enemies. Don’t let your heart be distant; don’t be afraid, don’t panic, and don’t be broken before them... - 20:3 שְׁמַ֣ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל Sh’ma – listen/become aware, Israel! This verse begins just like the other, better known verse – Sh’ma Yisrael – listen – be aware, Israel! When we bring our awareness into connection with our actual experience in the present moment, there can be a dropping of our ordinary preoccupation with thought and emotion, and the spacious quality of awareness itself appears... אַתֶּ֨ם קְרֵבִ֥ים הַיּ֛וֹם You are close, today... This word for “close,” k’reivim, can mean “near,” “intimate.” Hayom – “today” – of course means Now. It is saying: become present – come close to this moment… לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹיְבֵיכֶ֑ם To battle against your enemies… When we experience emotional pain, the tendency is to recoil, to contract, to project blame upon something we imagine to be the source of our pain. The imagined source – a person, a situation, whatever – seems to be our enemy, and we unconsciously oppose it. But here it reminds us, come close to that urge to battle against your enemies. Notice this unconscious impulse; be the awareness behind the impulse. אַל־יֵרַ֣ךְ לְבַבְכֶ֗ם Don’t let your heart falter… The word for “falter” – yeirakh – is similar to the word for “hip” – the place where Jacob was struck by the Divine being, after which he limped – hence the connection with “falter.” But the hip is also a euphemism for the reproductive organs, the part of the body that is usually hidden. So, al yeirakh levavkhem can mean, “don’t hide your heart.” Together, it means: don’t cripple your heart by contracting! Don’t split yourself in two – whatever disturbing experience arises is literally made out of your own awareness – be present to it and don’t be ruled by it: אַל־תִּֽירְא֧וּ וְאַֽל־תַּחְפְּז֛וּ Don’t be afraid, and don’t panic! Don’t fear your own fear – bring your awareness into the fear. Relax and don’t panic – don’t buy into the drama, simply feel whatever is there to be felt. וְאַל־תַּֽעַרְצ֖וּ מִפְּנֵיהֶֽם And don’t be broken before them! This sums up the entire teaching: don’t divide yourself by imagining there is something in your experience that is separate from you; everything you perceive arises in your own awareness. Furthermore, this awareness that you are is actually far beyond “you” – it is Reality Itself, incarnating and becoming conscious as you; it is the Divine, seeing through your eyes. This is hinted by the construction of each of these phrases: al yeirakh, al tir’u, al takh’p’zu, v’al ta’artzu – Don’t let your heart be distant; don’t be afraid, don’t panic, and don’t be broken before them – don’t don’t don’t don’t! The word for “don’t” – אַל al – also can mean both “to” (אל el) and “God” (El). The hint is that when we dissolve our fear by bringing our awareness to (אל el) the fear, that awareness is actually God’s awareness (El); the Divine is ever-present as our own consciousness! When strong emotions threaten to pull us into smallness, into contractedness, our deliberate Presence With the emotions actually harnesses their energy for deeper awakening from their drama. As it says in Psalm 27, which is traditionally recited at this time of year: יְיְ אוֹרִ֣י וְ֭יִשְׁעִי מִמִּ֣י אִירָ֑א The Divine is my Light and my Salvation, who shall I fear? (Psalm 27:1) This is path of צ tzaddie – bringing forth the tzaddik nature from within ourselves through the power of Presence...
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The Holodeck
Back in the early nineties, there was an episode of Star Trek The Next Generation, in which Commander Data was attempting to learn the meaning of humor. Data was an android, so he had trouble understanding certain human characteristics experiences. To practice his humor, he goes into the “Holodeck” – a place on the ship that creates virtual realities. The “Holodeck” gives him a comedy club scene with an audience, and Data gets up on the stage to practice his stand-up routine. At first, Data is pleased because the audience roars with laughter at his jokes. But after some time, Data notices something is fishy. He begins to deliberately say things that are not funny at all, but the audience still laughs. Data realizes that the Holodeck computer is simply making the audience laugh at whatever he says. Disappointed, Data leaves the stage. Mastery and Adversity Why is Data disappointed? Of course, it is because his goal is not to simply experience an audience laughing at him; his goal is to get funnier. To do that, he needs a realistic, critical audience to give him good feedback. Spiritually speaking, it is the same. We need the friction of a world with both blessings and curses in order to practice our responses to different experiences and master the art of life. But to do this, we need to be clear that we want to do this; we need to know what our goal is for this life we are in. What is your goal in this life? If your goal is only for the world to give you what you want, you had better get a Holodeck – then you can program it to do whatever you want it to do. But if your goal is to master this life, then the world is perfectly calibrated for helping you do that… Beyond Good and Bad There was once a farmer named Moishe, who owned many horses. But, after a series of unfortunate incidents, he lost all of his animals except for one old horse. One day, his last horse escaped, leaving Moishe with nothing. The villagers came to console him: “Oy Moishe, we are so sorry. What great sin could you have committed to bring this curse upon yourself?” Moishe replied, “Maybe curse, maybe blessing. We don’t know.” Later that week, just before Shabbos, the horse returned – with an entire herd of wild horses following behind! Moishe’s son was able to move all the wild horses into their fenced field. Instantly, Moishe was a rich man. The villagers returned: “Oy Moishe! What a blessing! Surely you have done some great mitzvah to deserve such a reward!” Moishe just said, “Maybe a blessing, maybe a curse! Who knows?” After Shabbos, Moishe’s son began the task of breaking in the wild horses. While he was working a particularly feisty one, he was thrown and broke his leg. Again, the villagers came: “Oy Moishe, I guess those horses were not such a blessing after all! Now your only son is worthless! How will you get any work done? How could you have brought such a curse upon yourself?” Moishe simply replied, “Well, we really don’t know… maybe it’s a curse, maybe it’s a blessing.” The next day, some Russian soldiers came through the village, drafting all the young Jewish men into the army. But, Moishe’s son was spared on account of his broken leg. Again, the villagers came: “Oy Moishe! Hashem has surely blessed you by causing your son to break his leg!” Where does it end? Mastering life means getting free from the impulse to constantly judge everything. Of course, it’s natural, and to a certain degree necessary, to judge. But if you are constantly blown around by the shifting winds of circumstance, compulsively judging everything that happens as either a blessing or a curse, isn’t that itself a curse? Parshat Re’eh רְאֵ֗ה אָנֹכִ֛י נֹתֵ֥ן לִפְנֵיכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם בְּרָכָ֖ה וּקְלָלָֽה׃ See, I set before you today blessing and curse. - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 11:26, Parshat Re’eh הַיּוֹם Hayom – Today means now! In this moment, there is the potential for either blessing or curse; it is our choice: אֶֽת־הַבְּרָכָ֑ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר תִּשְׁמְע֗וּ אֶל־מִצְוֺת֙ The blessing, that you listen to the commandments. -11:27 There are three levels of meaning for the word mitzvot – “commandments.” First, this moment in which we find ourselves is itself a “commandment.” Meaning, it is what it is. It has authority. We surrender to this moment or we struggle in vain; this moment has already become what it is. This recognition of the authority of the moment is expressed by the farmer in the story in a simple way: “Maybe blessing, maybe curse – we don’t know.” Meaning, it is futile for us to expend energy judging something that is beyond our control. There are other ways of expressing this truth. For example, we might say, “There is no use resisting what is. We must work with the moment as it appears; we must work with what we’ve got.” This would the ו vav approach, accepting what comes our way and not getting caught by reactivity. Or, we might frame it in a more devotional way: “Hashem has given me this situation, so I trust Hashem and accept that this what I need to work with right now.” This would be more of a י yod approach. Whichever path we walk in order to embrace the reality of whatever comes our way, the expression of this wisdom in words is the path of פ pei, the “mouth.” The path of פ pei is about words of teaching – the meanings of the words, but also the sounds of the words, the vibrational reality of things, which brings us to the second level of meaning of mitzvah: The word mitzvah is related to the Aramaic word צותא tzavta which means not “to command,” but rather “to connect” or “to join together.” How do you connect deeply with someone? By listening to them! So the sense of “listening” is a metaphor for connecting. When we say that we “hear” what someone is saying, it means that we are connecting with the speaker: “I hear you!” So if you want to connect with the underlying blessing before you, listen deeply to the vibration of this moment, rather than just the surface of the situation, which we tend to judge as good or bad. This is the other side of פ pei, which is listening to the “vibration” or “feel” of the moment rather than merely judging it conceptually. Connect with both the blessing and the curse – that’s the blessing! Prefer the blessing and resist the curse – that’s the curse! This principle is power behind music; music can express a vast spectrum of emotion, both sweet and bitter, and yet even within the most bitter is a sweetness when expressed in music! This is because music has the power to draw us into full embrace of whatever is being expressed. And in this embrace of the expression of music, we are deeply nourished. This is another dimension of the path of פ pei – that our consciousness is nourished by the vibratory sounds of Torah and tefilah, teaching and prayer. But in order to receive this nourishment, we have to be aware of our situation: רְאֵ֗ה אָנֹכִ֛י נֹתֵ֥ן לִפְנֵיכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם בְּרָכָ֖ה וּקְלָלָֽה׃ Re’eh – See, I set before you today blessing and curse. רְאֵה Re’eh – See… Just as the sense of “hearing” is a metaphor for connecting, so the sense of “seeing” is a metaphor for understanding. We “see” that something is the case: “Oh, I see now!” What should we see? בְּרָכָ֖ה וּקְלָלָֽה Barakha u’klalah – blessing and curse… On the level of ordinary perception, blessing and curse are not optional; there will always be a spectrum of experience. It is in our response that we have some choice. The automatic, unconscious impulse is to be like the villagers, stuck in the “curse” of judging blessings and curses. What is the way out? אָנֹכִ֛י נֹתֵ֥ן לִפְנֵיכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם Anokhi notein lifneikhem hayom – I place before you today… Behind all the blessings and curses is the One Reality. If we want to go beyond the duality of preference and connect with the blessing of the One Presence within all things, let go of the judging mind; listen to the fullness of how it is, to the vibration of this moment. When we do that, we are free. Like Commander Data, it is not a problem if the audience doesn’t laugh at our jokes. That’s how we learn! Like the farmer, we can respond to each situation as it is, without the excess drama. And that brings us to the third meaning of mitzvot – the plain meaning as “God’s commandments.” When we free ourselves from compulsive judgment, seeing the Whole, then we know we are not something separate from the Whole. Our actions can flow from that Oneness, in service of the Whole – in service of God. This state of “living for God” (represented by the letter צ tzaddie) may seem far-fetched and out of reach. Nevertheless, it is a potential within us, and we can nurture that potential by articulating it – by contemplating it, saying it, and chanting it. This is the power of פ pei, to articulate a stage of consciousness that is higher than we actually are, and thus help bring forth our potential into actuality. The Sound of Blessing בְּרָכָ֖ה וּקְלָלָֽה Brakhah uklala, blessing and curse, are ever the potentials before us. They are set before us הַיּוֹם hayom – “today” – meaning, they are not merely consequences that we’ll have to deal with later; they are inherent within this moment. Which shall we choose? אֶֽת־הַבְּרָכָ֑ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר תִּשְׁמְע֗וּ אֶל־מִצְוֺת֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֧ר אָנֹכִ֛י מְצַוֶּ֥ה אֶתְכֶ֖ם הַיּֽוֹם׃ Blessing, if you listen the mitzvot of Hashem, your Divinity, that I command you today; - Deuteronomy 11:27 Meaning, “listen” – be aware of this moment as it appears – that is the “commandment.” In this deep listening, not merely to the surface of experience but to its inner vibration, there can be the realization of the blessing within the awareness itself that listens, the awareness that we are on the deepest level. And through the window of this fundamental blessing of being conscious, all of the thirty-two paths can manifest, which can be represented simply by just the seven lower sefirot: Hesed (lovingkindness), Gevurah (strength), Tiferet (beauty, radiant presence), Netzakh (persistence), Hod (humility, gratitude), Yesod (joy), and Malkhut (presence, relationship). וְהָיָ֣ה הַמָּק֗וֹם אֲשֶׁר־יִבְחַר֩ יְהוָ֨ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶ֥ם בּוֹ֙ לְשַׁכֵּ֤ן שְׁמוֹ֙ שָׁ֔ם שָׁ֣מָּה תָבִ֔יאוּ אֵ֛ת כָּל־אֲשֶׁ֥ר אָנֹכִ֖י מְצַוֶּ֣ה אֶתְכֶ֑ם עוֹלֹתֵיכֶ֣ם וְזִבְחֵיכֶ֗ם מַעְשְׂרֹֽתֵיכֶם֙ וּתְרֻמַ֣ת יֶדְכֶ֔ם וְכֹל֙ מִבְחַ֣ר נִדְרֵיכֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֥ר תִּדְּר֖וּ לַֽיהוָֽה׃ And it will be that the Place that Hashem your Divinity chooses Its Name to dwell, you shall bring everything I command you – your Ascensions, your offerings, your tithes and those that you elevate with your hands, and all your choicest vows that you vow to the Divine. - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 12:11-12, Parshat Re’eh וְהָיָ֣ה הַמָּק֗וֹם – V’hayah HaMakom – And it will be, the Place… The “Place” that is chosen is the Place we are now in; in fact, the Divine and the Place are not two separate things. V’hayah, “will be,” is in fact the Divine Name with the letters in a slightly different order, and HaMakom, The Place, is itself a Divine Name. The message is: it is always to This Place that we must bring our offerings. The five offerings embody five of the sefirot: עוֹלֹתֵיכֶ֣ם – Oloteikhem – “Your Ascensions” is Tiferet, the transcendent beauty of Presence. זִבְחֵיכֶ֗ם – Zivheikhem – “Offerings” is Hesed, the spirit of love and giving. מַעְשְׂרֹֽתֵיכֶם֙ – Ma’sroteikhem – “Tithes” is Gevurah, the inner strength to not take only for oneself, to give up something for the sake of others. תְרֻמַ֣ת יֶדְכֶ֔ם – T’rumat Yedkhem – “Elevated with your hands” is Hod, which means “elevating” one’s actions through humility and gratitude. And finally: מִבְחַ֣ר נִדְרֵיכֶ֔ם – Mivhar Nidreikhem – “Choicest of your Vows” is Netzakh, which is committing to a path and following through with consistency and vigilance. All of these qualities are dependent on the foundation (Yesod) of joy, as the next verse expresses: וּשְׂמַחְתֶּ֗ם לִפְנֵי֮ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶם֒ אַתֶּ֗ם וּבְנֵיכֶם֙ וּבְנֹ֣תֵיכֶ֔ם וְעַבְדֵיכֶ֖ם וְאַמְהֹתֵיכֶ֑ם וְהַלֵּוִי֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר בְּשַֽׁעֲרֵיכֶ֔ם כִּ֣י אֵ֥ין ל֛וֹ חֵ֥לֶק וְנַחֲלָ֖ה אִתְּכֶֽם׃ And you shall rejoice (s’makhtem) before the Hashem your Divinity with your sons and daughters, with your male and female servants, along with the Levite in your gates, for they have no portion or inheritance among you… - 2:11-12 This is the power of sound – to bring forth all of our spiritual potential into actuality, so that it is available to us even in the midst of the storms of life. As the Haftora says: עֲנִיָּ֥ה סֹעֲרָ֖ה לֹ֣א נֻחָ֑מָה הִנֵּ֨ה אָנֹכִ֜י מַרְבִּ֤יץ בַּפּוּךְ֙ אֲבָנַ֔יִךְ וִיסַדְתִּ֖יךְ בַּסַּפִּירִֽים׃ Afflicted, storm-tossed, uncomforted one, behold! I will lay your floor stones upon pearl (Malkhut) and make your foundations (y’sad’ti, Yesod) with sapphires (the five upper sefirot)… - Isaiah 54:11 Sound delivers the most basic spiritual nourishment, but unlike food and water which must be purchased with money, spiritual nourishment is purchased with something else: ה֤וֹי כָּל־צָמֵא֙ לְכ֣וּ לַמַּ֔יִם וַאֲשֶׁ֥ר אֵֽין־ל֖וֹ כָּ֑סֶף לְכ֤וּ שִׁבְרוּ֙ וֶֽאֱכֹ֔לוּ וּלְכ֣וּ שִׁבְר֗וּ בְּלוֹא־כֶ֛סֶף וּבְל֥וֹא מְחִ֖יר יַ֥יִן וְחָלָֽב׃ Ho, all who are thirsty, come for water, even if you have no money; come, buy food and eat; buy food without money, wine and milk without cost… - Isaiah 55:1 Spiritual nourishment is still “bought,” but not with “money,” not with “cost” – meaning, unlike when we purchase with money, we don’t lose anything. Joy still must be purchased – meaning, there is an effort to be made, there is a path to walk. But this effort doesn’t expend our resources, it makes available our deepest resources. How do we “purchase” the spiritual nourishment we need? Sing!
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