There is a story that Rabbi Baer of Radoshitz, the disciple of Rabbi Yizhak Yosef (the Seer of Lublin), once asked his teacher: “Can you tell me the most fundamental, basic spiritual practice I should be doing?”
The Seer answered, “It is impossible to say one general practice, because each person must carefully observe their own inclinations, and then follow their own path with their whole being. For one, it might be studying the teachings, and for another, it might be prayer. For one it might be fasting, and for another, eating! Be aware of your own character, and embrace that as your fundamental practice.” Self-awareness, meaning awareness of the unique constellation of elements that make up your personality, is vital for crafting a life-path that fulfills the truth of your being. This is as the Seer says in the above story – we must choose a life path based on the truth of who we are on the personal level of talent, desire, life experience, and so on, and then live that life with as much Presence as we can. But, at the same time, there is another important reason for cultivating this kind of self-awareness: Once, Rabbi Mendel was once visiting Rabbi Elimelekh for a Shabbat meal. Rabbi Mendel was a very meek fellow, exceedingly humble, and he lived in great poverty. As everyone at the table began to eat the soup, Rabbi Elimelekh noticed that Rabbi Mendel wasn’t eating. “Why don’t you eat?” asked Rabbi Elimelekh. “I am sorry- I don’t have a spoon,” replied Rabbi Mendel. Rabbi Elimelekh replied sharply, “Look! One must know when to ask for a spoon, and even a plate if necessary!” Rabbi Mendel took his words to heart, and from that time onward, his fortunes steadily improved. I don’t know if this story about Rabbi Mendel is the source of that old Jewish joke about the man who calls over the waiter and says there is something wrong with the soup. “Is it too cold?” asks the waiter. “Try the soup!” says the man. “Too hot?” “Try the soup!” “Too salty?” “Will you just try the soup??” “Okay… where’s the spoon?” “AHA!” I the joke, the waiter had forgotten the spoon; in the story of Rabbi Mendel, he was too meek to ask for one. Both point to the other crucial reason why we should be aware of our uniqueness – it is to be aware of our weaknesses; is to know when we should do the opposite of our inclination. Our natural inclination is a double-edged sword. For the most part, Rabbi Mendel’s meekness served him, and was the foundation of the unique character of his spiritual life. But there was also a shadow side; it caused him unnecessary suffering which was cured only when this deficiency was pointed out to him, and he decided to change his behavior. The point is, we are our uniqueness, but we are not only our uniqueness. We can also transcend it; we can go beyond what is natural and comfortable, because we are more than form; we are also the vast field of awareness beyond the form. There is a hint in the parshah: וְשָׁ֣כַנְתִּ֔י בְּת֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל וְהָיִ֥יתִי לָהֶ֖ם לֵאלֹהִֽים׃ I will dwell between/within the Children of Israel, and I will for them Elohim. וְיָדְע֗וּ כִּ֣י אֲנִ֤י יְהוָה֙ אֱלֹ֣הֵיהֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֨ר הוֹצֵ֧אתִי אֹתָ֛ם מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם לְשָׁכְנִ֣י בְתוֹכָ֑ם אֲנִ֖י יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵיהֶֽם׃ And they shall know that I am Existence Itself, their own Divinity, who brought them out from the land of Egypt that I may dwell between/within them; I am Existence Itself, their own Divinity.
The first verse expresses the value of the unique character of the Children of Israel: וְשָׁ֣כַנְתִּ֔י בְּת֖וֹךְ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל – I will dwell between/within the Children of Israel… In other words, because they are the Children of Israel, because of their unique connection with the Divine, the Divine “dwells within them.” In the story, their uniqueness is expressed in the building of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) the installment of the Kohanim (priests), and so on. Similarly, our own uniqueness is also the path to realizing our Divine essence; we must construct the Mishkan of our lives based on the truth of our own unique qualities. This is what we might call the “constructive path” of ה hei – the embracing of our uniqueness in order to build a life path that is conducive to Presence. But then it says: וְיָדְע֗וּ כִּ֣י אֲנִ֤י יְהוָה֙ אֱלֹ֣הֵיהֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֨ר הוֹצֵ֧אתִי אֹתָ֛ם מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם לְשָׁכְנִ֣י בְתוֹכָ֑ם And they shall know that I am Existence Itself, their own Divinity, who brought them out from the land of Egypt that I may dwell between/within them… In other words, in order for the Divine to “dwell among them,” they must first be “brought out of Egypt.” Egypt is Mitzrayim, which means narrowness, limitedness. In other words, they must not only express their uniqueness, they must also transcend their uniqueness; they must go out from the bondage of identification with form and know their essence as spaciousness. Similarly, we too must be aware of how our personality may block us from fulfilling our full potential, so that we can know when we must go outside of our “comfort zone” and grow. This is what we might call the “destructive path” of ה hei. It is destructive not in the sense of obliterating the forms of our personal character, but in the sense of freeing us from identification with those forms. Then we can know: אֲנִ֖י יְהוָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵיהֶֽם – Ani Adonai Eloheihem – The deepest “I” is Divine, their own inner Divine Nature...
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I and Thou – Parshat Tetzaveh
3/4/2020 0 Comments בְּרֹ֣ב חַ֭סְדְּךָ אָב֣וֹא בֵיתֶ֑ךָ In Your abundant kindness I will enter Your House… (Psalm 5:8) I admit, I am not very good at staying in touch with people. I wish I were, but this deficiency is really the result of another deficiency, which is that I’m no good at multitasking. Unlike some people in my family who seem to effortlessly keep many people and their birthdays and everything else going on in their minds constantly, my mind tends to stay simple. Still, I am in touch with friends I’ve had since childhood, thanks to a little trick I’ve developed – I rope my friends into projects, and then we are forced to be in touch. The irony is that being “in touch,” that is, being present with one another, is the greater value. Whatever projects we are doing are nowhere near as important as the relationship. Relationships are for their own sake; they are not a goal in time, but they are fulfilled in Presence. Any yet, having a goal in time is helpful for the maintenance of the relationship, even though it is of lesser value. In this way, the lesser serves the greater, and the greater often needs the lesser in order to have a place in this world of busyness. In the case of spirituality, we also need something of lesser value to help us “keep in touch” with the Greater Value. אָב֣וֹא בֵיתֶ֑ךָ – Avo Veitekha – I will enter Your House The psalm uses the metaphor of “entering” God’s “House” to describe being present with the Divine Presence. We can do this at any moment, since everything that exists partakes of Existence; every moment is always This Eternal Moment. But, in most moments, we have other things taking our attention! Thus, we must make times in our day that are only for God; we have to make a “project” of our spirituality, dress the Divine in the “garb of the world” so to speak, so that it stands a chance. This is our daily spiritual practice, as well as the weekly twenty-five hours of Shabbat. Before you take the leap in commitment to Shabbat or daily practice, it seems impossible. Many people say to me, “How can you have time for Shabbat every week? How can you have time to meditate every day?” It is miraculous, but it is a miracle you can experience by taking the leap. That’s why “entering” the “House” is called “kindness” – בְּרֹ֣ב חַ֭סְדְּךָ אָב֣וֹא בֵיתֶ֑ךָ B’rov Hasdekha Avo Veitekha – In Your abundant kindness I will enter Your House… We receive our ability to devote our time and energy to practice as a gift, as an expression of Divine Hesed (kindness), not merely as an expression of our own willpower. In this way, the logistics of scheduling too becomes part of the practice, not something separate from it. You can also reverse-engineer Presence from your goal-oriented relationships. Next time you are checking out at the store, or dealing with any person that you don’t know for the sake of some task or goal, you can bring the dimension of Presence into the relationship. Yes, you are only dealing with this person because of what you need to accomplish, but you can use the opportunity to let the “lesser” serve the “Greater” – open yourself to the miracle of the person before you; appreciate that the Divine comes to you now in the form of this person before you. Martin Buber had a special way of referring to these two realities: when we relate to someone or something as serving a function, as having a goal in time, we are in an “I-it” relationship. When we relate to someone for their own sake, being present for its own sake, we are in an “I-You” (or “I-Thou”) relationship. There’s a hint in the parshah: וְאַתָּה הַקְרֵב אֵלֶיךָ אֶת־אַהֲרֹן אָחִיךָ And you shall bring Aaron, your brother, close to you… (Exodus 28:1) Moses is receiving instructions about how to transform his brother Aaron and his sons into kohanim, priests. But before going into all the detail about how to create the sacred vestments they must wear, it says, hakareiv eilekha – bring him close to you! In other words, in order for all the elaborate ritual stuff to work, it has to be grounded in Presence. Presence is the point of the ritual elements – so before Moses gets involved with the ritual functions of his brother, he has to first connect with his brother for his own sake, as a “You,” before talking about his function as an “It.” A hassid once asked Rabbi Yisakhar Baer of Radoshitz: “The Talmud says that Rabbi Shimon bar Yokhai said to his son, ‘My son, you and I are enough for the world.’ How are we to understand this?” He answered, “In the Tosefta we read, “The underlying meaning of the creation of the world is that the creature says to the Holy One, ‘You are the Divine!’ And the Holy One replies, ‘I am the Divine.’ This ‘You’ and this ‘I’ are enough for the world…” The Fire of Awareness – Parshat Tetzaveh 2/12/2019 1 Comment Someone told me recently that she felt so bad about herself, that she hadn’t done anything of worth, that she had messed up so much in her life. I encouraged her to notice that those were thoughts, that she didn’t have to “buy in” to those thoughts. “But it’s TRUE!” she insisted. “What is true,” I said, “is that those thoughts are present, the feelings that come with those thoughts are present, the sense of your body breathing right now is present, the sound of my voice is present… that’s TRUE.” She started to relax a little bit… barukh Hashem, because as we know, she could have punched in the mouth instead! When a person is captivated by thoughts and feelings, it is not always helpful to point that out; a person has to be ready for that kind of pointing. We may or may not be able to help another person get free from the web of ego, but there is one person we can help – and that’s ourselves. Notice: there is an absolute truth, and that’s the truth of whatever is arising in your experience, right now. The point, however, is not necessarily the content of your experience; the point is being the noticing. When you can see clearly – there is a thought, there is a feeling, there is a sensation – then there is the possibility of knowing: you are the noticing, you are the awareness, you are not trapped by any thought or feeling. You are the openness within which this moment unfolds. That is freedom. And from that freedom, you can see clearly: is this thought helpful? Is this thought destructive? Spiritual teachings often come in diametrically opposed pairs. There’s a teaching of the Hassidic rebbe, Rabbi Simcha Bunim of P’shikha, that everyone should carry two slips of paper, one in each pocket. On one should be written, “I am but dust and ashes,” (Genesis 18:27) and on the second, “For me the world was created” (Talmud Bavli, Sanhedrin, 37b). As one goes through life, one should develop the wisdom to know which slip of paper to take out at which time. Could there be more diametrically opposed messages? The point is, our thoughts are not “true” or “not true,” they are either useful or not useful. From a spiritual point of view, they are useful if they move us from ego to freedom, from resistance to acceptance. Sometimes, acceptance means letting go and letting things be (“I am but dust and ashes.”) But that doesn’t mean passivity or weakness; often, it means the acceptance of responsibility (“For me the world was created.”) This moment, this situation, as it is, right now, is. How shall we respond? Shall we turn away, deny and ignore? Or, shall we address this moment as it is and step up to what must be done? This too is acceptance, this too is freedom – not freedom from responsibility, but freedom from resistance to accepting the responsibility that is already yours. וְאַתָּ֞ה תְּצַוֶּ֣ה ׀ אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֗ל וְיִקְח֨וּ אֵלֶ֜יךָ שֶׁ֣מֶן זַ֥יִת זָ֛ךְ כָּתִ֖ית לַמָּא֑וֹר לְהַעֲלֹ֥ת נֵ֖ר תָּמִֽיד You shall command the Israelites to take for you oil of olives, pure, crushed, for illumination, to kindle continuous flame... The oil is already burning – it is the ner tamid – the continuous flame of your consciousness, the essence of who you are, within which this moment unfolds. The question is, are you conscious of your consciousness? You are already aware, but are you aware that you are the awareness? To wake up, to become aware on this deeper level, you have to purify your awareness from its identification with thoughts and feelings; you have to “crush” them from your consciousness. Like the olive, there’s a hard pit at the core; that’s the ego. How? Be the loving Presence that surrounds your ego. No need to try to get rid of it – that’s just more ego! Instead, accept the fulness of this moment as it is, resistance and all, feelings and all, thoughts and all, without “adding to the story” – without “buying in.” In doing that, you illuminate the awareness that is already free from all that; לְהַעֲלֹ֥ת נֵ֖ר תָּמִֽיד – you kindle the eternal flame – that is the beginning of awakening. Wringing Out the Sponge – Parshat Tetzaveh 2/23/2018 2 Comments Exodus 27:20 וְאַתָּ֞ה תְּצַוֶּ֣ה ׀ אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֗ל וְיִקְח֨וּ אֵלֶ֜יךָ שֶׁ֣מֶן זַ֥יִת זָ֛ךְ כָּתִ֖ית לַמָּא֑וֹר לְהַעֲלֹ֥ת נֵ֖ר תָּמִֽיד׃ You shall command the Israelites to bring you olive oil, clear, pressed, for illumination, for kindling lamps constantly... Becoming present is like ringing out a sponge, or pressing the air out of an air pump. On one hand, there's a kind of contraction, as you squeeze the sponge or pump. On the other hand, the water in the sponge or the air in the pump becomes more expansive as it's released. Similarly, thoughts tend to be absorbed in the "sponge" of thinking. Becoming present requires a "pressing" of consciousness from it's ordinary absorption in thought, into the expansive fullness of your experience in the present. This is hinted at in the above passage. The olive oil should be zakh – clear, pure – meaning, not mingled with thoughts and attitudes. Simply be the clear space within which this moment arises. To do this, it has to be kateet – pressed. Meaning, "press" yourself into your present moment experience. This "pressing" is the freeing of consciousness from the forms it takes in thought... Darkness to Light – Parshat Tetzaveh March 10, 2017 This week’s Torah reading is Parshat Tetzaveh. Tetzaveh means, “And you shall command.” It begins with God telling Moses: “V’atah tetzaveh et b’nai Yisrael- and you shall command the children of Israel- v’yik’khu eilekha shemen zayit zakh katit lama’or- they should take to you oil from olives, pure, crushed, for illumination- l’ha’alot ner tamid- for kindling the eternal flame.” So what’s the “eternal flame?” It’s your awareness that’s there all the time- whether you’re asleep or awake, whether you’re angry or openhearted, there’s always this basic awareness there, so you don’t have to create it- it’s already tamid- already constant. But, the tendency is for your awareness to constantly get drawn in by the dramas of the mind and heart, the image we have of reality, rather than connect with Reality directly. So in order to free your awareness from your mind, you do have to “kindle it” so to speak. Just as when you’re asleep, you’re a little bit aware, otherwise no one would be able to wake you up. But once someone does wake you up, your awareness greatly increases. So too there’s a way l’ha’alot ner tamid- to kindle the eternal flame- meaning, to increase your awareness that’s already there, and wake up even more. And how do you do that? You need shemen zayit- olive oil. Now olives have a hard, inedible pit within them. Similarly, there’s ordinarily a hard, seemingly impenetrable pit at the core of who we are. From the moment we wake up in the morning, there’s that sense that “I” have woken up. You feel angry at someone, there’s a sense that “I” am angry. If you let go of the anger and you get all expansive and forgiving and loving, there’s still the sense that “I” am expansive and forgiving and loving. That’s the pit- the pit is the “I.” And just like you can’t eat the pit and transform it into nourishment, so it seems that the “I” is irreducible. No matter what experience you have, it’s always “you” having it. But just as the olive fruit is crushed along with the pit to make olive oil, as it says, zakh katit- pure and crushed, so too that hard sense of “me” known as the ego can be crushed into oil, and that oil becomes fuel for consciousness- fuel for enlightenment. So how do you get the oil from the olive pit of the self and burn it in the light of awareness? The essential thing is not to try and control your mind, or try to not have judgments or think less, but rather it’s simply to notice what is in this moment. You have thoughts and feelings? Just know that there are thoughts and feelings. Let your awareness rest in the actual truth of your experience in this moment- being present with your feelings as they arise and fall, being present with your body and the rise and fall of your breathing, and being the perceiving presence behind your thoughts. In this way you naturally let go of the mental urge to retreat into your mind, which is what creates the sense of “me,” known as ego, and instead feel yourself as the luminous presence within which the mystery of this moment is unfolding. There’s a wonderful hint of this in the next line: “B’ohel mo’ed- In the tent of the special time of meeting- that is, the tent of meeting the present- mikhutz laparokhet asher al ha’eidut- on the outside of the concealing curtain that’s over the tabletson which the ten commandments are written, that’s where Aaron will kindle the eternal flame. Now the word for the tablets, eidut, actually doesn’t mean tablets, that would be lukhot. Rather, eidutmeans testimony or witness. This witness is behind the parokhet- behind the curtain- you can’t see the witness. And this is exactly the nature of consciousness. Consciousness sees everything else, but just like the eyeball, it can’t see itself; it’s a mystery to itself. So what you get in spiritual awakening is not any new piece of information or expanded knowledge, but rather the awareness of the Nothing; the is-ness beyond all understanding that’s forever behind the curtain, so to speak. And yet, you are the witness- you are behind the curtain. You can’t understand consciousness, but you can simply be conscious- you can simply be present… and that’s awakening out of the dream of the mind. But to do this in a really deep and transformative way, the olive pits have to be katit- crushed. This means that when suffering comes your way- when things go wrong, when you suffer loss, when you experience anger or worry or fear- bring your awareness into the feelings. Let the feelings be without elaborating on them too much in your mind, without blaming or trying to figure out how to avoid them in the future. Instead, let their energy crush the pit of ego. It’s not necessarily pleasant, but it’s temporary and leads to greater illumination. To help remember, you can say to yourself repeatedly- “Whatever suffering comes my way is for the purpose of illumination.” So write that down, and say it to yourself over and over. In this way, any ordinary situation that produces suffering can be an opportunity to increase the light of consciousness and ultimately open to greater joy and bliss in simply Being. So as we approach this Shabbat Tetzaveh, the Sabbath of Command, may we all receive this mitzvah-this commandment- to ignite the eternal flame of awareness with the oil that’s pressed out of us through whatever suffering happens to come our way. And as our light increases, so too may we transform our actions to crush any stuck patterns of negativity and open to the blessing inherent in this life... Take Off Your Headphones! Parshat Tetzaveh 2/16/2016 Do you ever listen to music in headphones? Sometimes I’ll want to hear the same song in my headphones over and over again, until I get sick of it. The song takes on a personal theme quality, and I want it to score my whole life. But imagine going out to see the singer of your favorite song perform live. Would you pull out your headphones and listen to a recording of it, rather than listen to the actual concert? Of course not! And yet, that’s often what happens in the spiritual sense, when your mind becomes engrossed in some thought, idea, desire, or memory. Rather than live life as it’s happening, you're absorbed in your own mind. It’s like listening to a recording in headphones when the real thing is happening live right in front of you! This week's reading begins: “V’atah tetzaveh et b’nai Yisrael...” “And you shall command the Children of Israel that they should take for you pure olive oil, pressed, for illumination, to kindle a lamp continually.” “Oil” represents awareness. To “take” the “oil” means to take your awareness into your own hands. Your mind need not wander about like a child- you can take “command” of it. “… pressed, for illumination” Ordinarily the mind wanders aimlessly, and awareness glows dully in the background. But if you “press” your awareness, which means bringing your mind back again and again to the present, it will begin to glow brightly, illuminating your mind. “… to kindle a lamp continually.” With ordinary fire, once you kindle it, it burns on its own. But with consciousness, you must “kindle” it “continually.” This means developing the habit of reeling your mind back, again and again, to the Reality of this moment. Once, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak began greeting everyone after prayers as if they had just returned from a long journey. “Shalom Aleikhem! Shalom aleikhem!” exclaimed the rebbe to each and every congregant. When they gave him strange looks, he responded- “Why do you look surprised? While the hazan was singing, you weren’t here at all. This one was in the market place, this one was on a cargo ship, this one was relaxing at home. When the singing stopped, you all returned, so I greeted you shalom aleikhem!” The Greatest Singer of All performs a concert right now. It’s the only concert there is- the magical unfolding of this moment! On this Shabbat Tetzaveh, the Sabbath of Command, may we remember to heed the Great Command that sings to us continuously: Be present! And through our mindfulness, may the consciousness of all humanity be elevated, so that awareness and love may reign supreme in the minds and hearts of all. Good Shabbos!
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וְאַל תְּהִי רָשָׁע בִּפְנֵי עַצְמְךָ
…and do not consider yourself to be wicked.
This aphorism reminds us not to hold negative narratives about ourselves – rather, we should know that our essence is Divine, no matter what mistakes we make and no matter what thoughts and feelings arise. The Hasidic rebbe, Rabbi Barukh of Medzebozh, taught a novel twist on this mishna. The idiom for “consider yourself” is בִּפְנֵי עַצְמְךָ bifnei atzmekha – literally, “facing oneself.” With this literal meaning, Rabbi Barukh translates it this way: וְאַל תְּהִי רָשָׁע בִּפְנֵי עַצְמְךָ Don’t be wicked by facing yourself! In other words, don’t shut yourself up too much in solitude; every person has a unique constellation of qualities that exist for the purpose of contributing something unique to the world. Not only must we not think of ourselves in a negative way, we must know that we possess an inherent and unique value that must be shared in a positive way. Similarly, a disciple of Rabbi Yekhiel Mikhel, the Maggid of Zlotchov, once asked him: “How are we to understand the teaching that we are duty bound to ask ourselves, ‘When will our actions approach those of our ancestors?’ How could we possibly compare ourselves to our forefathers and foremothers?” The Maggid explained: “Just as our ancestors embodied unique paths of service – one with love, one with discipline, another with beauty – so too each person has unique qualities, and we should use our uniqueness to create a new path of service, and do what has not yet been done.” This recognition and embracing of our inherent uniqueness is the Fifteenth Path of Presence, the Hebrew letter ה hei. Unlike the first four letters, which point to universal aspects of transcendent awareness, hei points to the unique ways that consciousness manifests for each of us on the levels of thought, feeling and form, and also hints at our potential for creating something new in the world. This individualistic nature of hei manifests both as our uniquely created selves and also as that which our “selves” create. Our uniqueness as created beings is expressed in the Torah which frames humans as expressions of the Infinite; the One who is beyond all limited, specific form, manifests in the infinite number of possible human forms: וַיִּבְרָ֨א אֱלֹהִ֤ים אֶת־הָֽאָדָם֙ בְּצַלְמ֔וֹ בְּצֶ֥לֶם אֱלֹהִ֖ים בָּרָ֣א אֹת֑וֹ זָכָ֥ר וּנְקֵבָ֖ה בָּרָ֥א אֹתָֽם׃ And Elohim created human in Its image, in the image of Elohim It created him; male and female It created them.
Furthermore, our ability to also become creators ourselves is expressed in the very next verse: וַיְבָ֣רֶךְ אֹתָם֮ אֱלֹהִים֒ וַיֹּ֨אמֶר לָהֶ֜ם אֱלֹהִ֗ים פְּר֥וּ וּרְב֛וּ וּמִלְא֥וּ אֶת־הָאָ֖רֶץ וְכִבְשֻׁ֑הָ וּרְד֞וּ בִּדְגַ֤ת הַיָּם֙ וּבְע֣וֹף הַשָּׁמַ֔יִם וּבְכָל־חַיָּ֖ה הָֽרֹמֶ֥שֶׂת עַל־הָאָֽרֶץ׃ Elohim blessed them and Elohim said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply – fill the earth and master it, and rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and all the living things that creep on earth.”
Traditionally, the commandment of p’ru ur’vu, “be fruitful and multiply,” is seen as the first mitzvah of the Torah; it is incumbent upon us to insure that humanity continues to survive through procreation. But on a deeper level, this mitzvah expands to include creativity in general; human life is a creative process through which new “fruits” constantly come into being. For many, our situation as creators can give us a sense of purpose and reason for living. And yet, when the suffering of life becomes overwhelming (God forbid), all of our efforts can feel like they are for naught, nothing but “vanity and striving after wind,” as Kohelet puts it (Ecclesiastes 1:14). What is the remedy? There is a story of Reb Levi Yitzhak, that whenever he would celebrate the Passover Seder and come to the passage about the Four Sons, he would stop at the son who doesn’t know how to ask. “That’s me, Levi Yitzhak – I am the son who doesn’t know how to ask! I don’t know how to ask what this is all for, why we are here, what is the purpose of it all. And even if I did, how could I bear the answer? I do not want to know why I suffer as I do; I want to know that my suffering is for You. And just as it says, ‘you shall answer your son, saying…’ so You, my Father, must answer!” In this story, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak gets to the root of the issue: the meaning of life is not a matter of the mind, but a matter of the heart: “I do not want to know why I suffer as I do; I want to know that my suffering is for You!” In other words – our actions, our creative fruits we bring into the world amid sometimes unbearable suffering – are worth it when they are done with love. Offering ourselves up in love is, in the paradigm of the Torah, the way the world becomes a “home” for the Divine Presence, as it says in this parshah: וְיִקְחוּ־לִ֖י תְּרוּמָ֑ה מֵאֵ֤ת כָּל־אִישׁ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר יִדְּבֶ֣נּוּ לִבּ֔וֹ... וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם Take for Me an offering from every person whose heart moves them… and they shall make for me a sanctuary, and I will dwell within them…
That which we call “Divine,” the Presence of Being in all beings, is always already the Root of who we are; It is the consciousness that reads these words right now. But in order for consciousness to become aware of its Root as the Divine, in order for the Divine to truly “dwell” as the Presence that we are, we must “build the Sanctuary;” that is, we must offer of ourselves in the way our hearts are spontaneously moved to offer. In other words, do what you love – make your passion into your practice, and build your life as a “sanctuary” of Presence – this is the Path of ה Hei.
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Silent Burst – Parshat Terumah
2/24/2020 0 Comments יהוה מָגֵן בַּעֲדִי כְּבוֹדִי וּמֵרִים רֹאשִׁי – Hashem magein ba'adi, kevodi umeirim roshi! Hashem, You are a shield for me – You are the Presence within, transcending my mind… (Psalm 3:4) A hassid once came to Rabbi Menahem Mendel of Kotsk in search of a blessing for his poverty and troubles. “Don’t worry,” the rabbi tried to comfort him, “Pray with all your heart, and surely HaRakhaman – the Merciful One – will have rakhmanus on you.” “But I don’t know how to pray,” said the hassid. “Well then,” replied the rabbi, “you indeed have much to worry about.” The art of prayer lies in the bringing together of two polar opposite qualities. On one hand, prayer is a stripping away – an uncovering of the raw, naked reality of the heart. This is umeirim roshi – “lifting my head” – meaning, getting out of our heads and feeling the fullness of longing within our hearts. Then, from this longing, contemplating that the object of our longing is the closest thing to us; the Divine is ever-present, the inner Reality of all things. This in turn awakens our own Divine essence, and this is kevodi – “my presence” or “my glory” – meaning, the recognition of our own awareness as Divine. On the other hand, prayer is also an embodying of that Reality in the palace of words, an expression of the ineffable in the holy sounds of language. This is magein ba'adi – a “shield for me.” Our patterns of thought, feeling, and language tend to conceal the Divine essence; no matter how much we uncover It, it is doomed to fall into hiddenness again and again, unless we can craft a form that reveals It as well as conceals It. This is the role of prayer and words of Torah in general – to give form to the Formless, to “shield” us against the spirit-deadening powers of the mundane. Up until this parshah, the Exodus from Egypt has been an uncovering, a going forth from the familiar and habitual, into the freedom and discomfort of the unknown. Moses has been receiving the Divine revelations outdoors, up on the mountaintop, far above the throng of human life. But the content of the revelation always points back to life; it doesn’t emphasize transcendence, but rather the expressing the transcendent in the imminent. This movement is embodied symbolically as the building of the Mikdash: וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם׃ Make for me a Mikdash – a Sanctuary – and I will dwell within them. Moses leaves the world of form to connect with the transcendent, but it is through the building of sacred form that the transcendent becomes part of communal life. For us, the act of prayer must contain both of these poles as well. It doesn’t matter so much which pole comes first, as long as the other follows. Our awareness may begin to glow and swell in the silence, overflowing into the vessels of words of prayer, or we may begin with chanting the words, allowing them to draw us back into the silence. Either way, it is through the interplay of silence and sound, of ayin and yesh, that the transformational power of prayer works its magic; prayer and meditation are the tones and rhythm of the music of the soul… Love is the Reason – Parshat Terumah 2/7/2019 0 Comments Last Shabbat, after I taught in our Berkeley synagogue, I walked through town with a rabbi friend of mine. He told me that when he was younger, he used to attend meditation retreats and seek out teachings on spiritual awakening. But over time he moved away from those things because they seemed too abstract. It seemed to him that such teachings aimed at awakening an experience of the transcendent, but they didn’t address his fundamental question: why are we here in this life? If it’s all about transcending the world, what’s the meaning of living in the world? Recently, I was listening to a talk by the outspoken intellectual Jordan Peterson in which he said that, to any thinking person, it should be obvious that the meaning of existence must be grounded in the fact of unbearable human suffering. Hassidic teaching says something similar: There is a story of Reb Levi Yitzhak, that whenever he would celebrate the Passover Seder and come to the passage about the Four Sons, he would stop at the son who doesn’t know how to ask. “That’s me, Levi Yitzhak – I am the son who doesn’t know how to ask! I don’t know how to ask what this is all for, why we are here, what is the purpose of it all. And even if I did, how could I bear the answer? I do not want to know why I suffer as I do; I want to know that my suffering is for You. And just as it says, ‘you shall answer your son, saying…’ so You, my Father, must answer!” In this Hassidic understanding, suffering is not the meaning of existence, but it is the thing that causes us to ask the meaning of existence. And further: it is not the philosophical question of why that is of ultimate concern, but for Whom. In other words, it is a question not of the mind, but of the heart. This points to a central truth: the question of meaning is fulfilled only through love. That is the only reason to endure all the suffering, because love is the ultimate joy – shining even at the very depths of suffering. The mind searches for the question of meaning, but it can never really be satisfied with any conceptual answer, no matter how convincing. Trying to find meaning through the mind is like trying to taste food with your hands; no matter how much food you smear on your hands, you will never be satisfied. Only actual eating can satisfy hunger; only actual love can satisfy the hunger for meaning. וְיִקְחוּ־לִ֖י תְּרוּמָ֑ה מֵאֵ֤ת כָּל־אִישׁ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר יִדְּבֶ֣נּוּ לִבּ֔וֹ... וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם Take for Me an offering from every person whose heart moves them… and they shall make for me a sanctuary, and I will dwell within them. It is only through the life of the heart that Sanctuary is built – a life in which, since the loving heart desires to give, giving is actually a form of receiving. And, since everything we receive is taken as an expression of the Divine love for us, receiving is also a form of giving – barukh Hashem! זָהָ֥ב וָכֶ֖סֶף וּנְחֹֽשֶׁת gold, silver and copper… See – there are three levels to experience right now: thought, feeling and sensory experience. The feeling level determines the quality of experience – its mood – attraction and revulsion, adoration and anger, curiosity and boredom. This is the level of the heart from which love arises, and hence from which the meaning of existence is fulfilled. We might think, then, that the heart is the level of “gold” – but it is not. Why? Notice: your feelings, as primary as they are, are ultimately determined by your thoughts – by how you interpret your experience. Think good, feel good; think bad, feel bad. Most of us assume the opposite: we start to feel bad, and so we start thinking in a negative way. But wake up out of the seductiveness of your feelings by being present with them and accepting them, and you can realize: you can actually decide which thoughts to nurture and which thoughts to dismiss. That decision is itself a thought, arising from a deep wisdom beyond the gravity of feeling and the seductiveness of thought. That wisdom is awareness itself – hokhmah – beyond both thought and feeling. That is why the mind, though it cannot ultimately bring us real fulfillment, is the "gold" and the heart is the "silver" – because the mind rules the heart. The third level is sensory experience, corresponding to action. Action is an expression of the heart, which is in turn ruled by the mind. We don’t act unless we are motivated to act; we have to first want on the level of heart, and that determines our action. Thus, action is the level of copper. Take for Me an offering from every person whose heart moves them… Without the awareness of what we really are, beneath our thoughts, feelings and sensory experience, our thoughts tend to be ruled by the unconscious impulses of our hearts, leading ultimately to unconscious and reactive actions. But being aware that we are the awareness behind all experience, we can choose our thoughts, and thus open our hearts, and act from the radiant love that shines through that openness. Then, all of life becomes a sanctuary for the Presence that dwells within us, as us… Offering Whatever – Parshat Terumah 2/15/2018 Exodus 25:1, 2 וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְהוָ֖ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר׃ The Divine spoke to Moses, saying: דַּבֵּר֙ אֶל־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל וְיִקְחוּ־לִ֖י תְּרוּמָ֑ה מֵאֵ֤ת כָּל־אִישׁ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר יִדְּבֶ֣נּוּ לִבּ֔וֹ תִּקְח֖וּ אֶת־תְּרוּמָתִֽי׃ Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart motivates them. Once a hassid came to the rebbe and asked, "Why is it that the rabbis praise Avraham for being willing to offer his son Yitzhak? For most people this would be a severe test, but how could it be a test for Avraham, who was a great prophet?" The rebbe answered, "When a person is tested, all their spiritual attainment is taken away from them, and they are face to face with the test. All your depth of realization is out the window, and you must gather all your strength to not be seduced by your ego..." Living in awakened life, in which every word and action overflows an offering from the heart, can seem easy when you're in the experience of blissful oneness. But these experiences become a complete reality only when you face situations that trigger you and threaten to seduce you back into an egoic state, and you manage to actually pass the test. But, no matter how many times you may "fail" your tests, don't worry! That's totally natural. If fact, if you can let your heart break in humility when you "fail" your tests, that in itself helps to break the bonds of ego. In this way, both "failing" and "passing" can aide you in becoming true sanctuary of Presence in which your whole life is an "offering." "Staying Present in Action" Parshat Terumah 3/2/2017 2 Comments This week’s Torah reading is Parshat Terumah. Terumah means an offering, or a contribution. It begins with God telling Moses to say to the children of Israel: “Yik’khu li trumah me’eit kol ish asher yidveinu libo- "Take for me an offering from every person whose heart is motivated to give…” The offerings that they’re talking about range from precious metals, to animal skins, to incense spices, to pieces of wood- all things that will be used to build the mishkan- the portable temple that the Israelites carried with them as they travelled through the wilderness. The word mishkancomes from the root which means to dwell or be present, as in the word Shekhinah which means, Divine Presence. So in the opening of this parshah, we’re hearing about all the different ways the Israelites contribute toward the Sanctuary of Presence. But if we look more deeply, this opening verse gives us three hints about how we can be more present in our own actions. The first and most important hint is in the name of the parshah- Terumah, which means, “offering.” If you want to be present in the busyness of daily life and overcome that tendency to see this moment merely as a means to get to some future moment, then let your actions be offerings. Whenever you do something, and you can do this many times a day, bring to mind that your actions are for the sake of serving something. Since most of what we do is often serving some purpose for others, this isn’t so difficult. But even when you do things for yourself like eating or resting, you can still offer it as a gift, because of course you have to keep yourself healthy in order to be of service to others. And, the more you think of your actions as offerings, you might even get inspired to change the way you do things for the better, or even take on some new positive actions, or get rid of some not so positive ones. The point here to bring more consciousness into whatever you’re doing by acting with a loving spirit. The second hint is implied in the words, kol ish- every person. In other words, every person has their own unique path. If you go around wishing you were someone else, or wishing you were in a different situation, you devalue your own path, and create an inner feeling of separation. But if you constantly take to heart that this moment is the moment to offer what only you can offer, regardless of whether it seems impressive in the external sense, then you can really inhabit your body and inhabit your actions. Furthermore, the words kol ish, every person, can also mean “all of the person.” In other words, put all of yourself into whatever you happen to be doing. And that brings us to the third hint that’s implied in the words, “…asher yidveinu libo- whose heart is motivated to give…” This means, you can learn how to be present from whatever you’re really motivated to do. Notice how it feels when you’re doing things that you love, how you’re fully engaged and doing for its own sake, and bring that degree of presence to all your actions, even when you’re doing things you don’t necessarily want to do. In that way, everything you do becomes a kind of devotion or prayer. There’s a story that the Baal Shem Tov was once smoking his pipe by the window, when he was taken aback by the sight of a man walking by, who glowed with the most beautiful holy Presence and joyful radiance. The Baal Shem asked a disciple who the man was, and his disciple told him that the man was a hose-maker. So, the Baal Shem sent the man a message to please bring four pairs of hose. Soon after, the hose maker appeared before the Baal Shem, displaying his wares, light shining from his face. The hose were well made of good sheep’s wool. The Baal Shem asked him, “How do you spend your days?” The man answered, “I ply my trade.” “And how do you ply it?” asked the Baal Shem. “I work every day until I have forty or fifty pairs of hose, then I put them into a mold with hot water and press them until they’re as they should be.” “And do you do any special prayers or meditations?” asked the Baal Shem. “I just recite the psalms that I know by heart, all day long as I work.” After the Baal Shem had purchased the hose and the man left, the Baal Shem turned to his disciple and said, “Today you have seen the cornerstone which will uphold the temple until the coming of the Messiah.” So what does the Baal Shem Tov mean when he says that this hose maker is the cornerstone of the temple until the Messiah? The temple, as we’ve seen, represents intensification of Presence. The Messiah means the end of exile, because the traditional belief is that when Moshiakh comes, all the Jews scattered throughout the world will be gathered in, and everyone will commune with the Divine in the temple once again. But on a deeper level, exile isn’t only about being separated from your native land. Exile is what happens within when you don’t fully inhabit who you are and what you’re doing in the present moment. When that happens, your consciousness pulls away from itself, creating the experience of incompleteness. And in that inner exile, nothing is all that satisfying. But when you’re gathered in, so to speak, when you connect deeply with your actions, there’s a deep satisfaction even if you’re doing things that aren’t particularly exciting. So as approach Shabbat Terumah, the Sabbath of Offering, let’s practice making all our actions offerings, gathering ourselves back into the fullness of who we are and opening to the healing and wholeness that flows from that. Good Shabbos!!! love, brian yosef The Floor- Parshat Terumah 2/14/2016 1 Comment Let’s face it- people can be annoying. Once I was in a workshop at a retreat center. I was in a room full of people, listening to the teacher speak to the class. Next to me there was this guy who happened to be standing on an area of floor that emitted a really loud squeak whenever someone stepped on it. So what did this guy do? He stood on that spot and rocked his body back and forth, making a terribly annoying and loud squeak, over and over again. He appeared to be totally unconscious of what he was doing. I was amazed that he either couldn’t hear the loud noise he was making or he just didn’t care. In that moment, as that relatively trivial annoyance provoked such a strong response within me, I appreciated the difficulty of staying present and free when disturbances are not trivial- when they’re deeply offensive or hurtful. Have you ever been enraged by someone you love? Have you ever deeply offended someone you would die for? Or have you deeply enraged your beloved? If you have, than perhaps you know the pain of separation it causes- the sour flavor that permeates life in the wake of such mis-steps. What’s the remedy? How can the sundered fabric of relationship be healed and closeness be restored? There’s a word in Hebrew for “holy” or “sacred”- kadosh. Kadosh actually means “separate,” but not in the ordinary sense. In the case of a wounded relationship, the word “separate” connotes distance, disconnectedness, alienation. But the word kadosh actually means the opposite. In a Jewish wedding ceremony we hear these words spoken between the beloveds- “At mekudeshet li- “You are holy to me…” Your partner or spouse becomes “separate” because they’re your most intimate, and therefore separate from all less intimate relationships. So, the separateness of kadosh points not to something that’s distant, but most central. It points not to alienation, but to the deepest connection. This week’s reading begins the Divine instructions for building the Mishkan- the portable temple for the wandering Israelites: “V’asu li Mikdash v’shakhanti mitokham- “Make for me a Mikdash- a Sanctuary- and I will dwell within you.” The word Mikdash has the same root as holy- kadosh. In the Torah, the Mikdash is the place that the Divine Presence manifests and communes with the Israelites. The other word for the Sanctuary, Mishkan, implies the Divine Presence- the Shekhina. And how did the Israelites commune with the sacred? Did they go into the space to just sit and meditate? No! They came into the Mikdash to offer presious gifts- first to build the sanctuary, then to make offerings. They brought things that were most precious- first their gold, silver and copper, then their fruit, their wine, grain and animals. In giving and burning what was most precious, they burned away their own inner obstacles to intimacy; they burned away the alienation caused by their own “clinging.” The word for a sacrificial offering is “korban,” which means not sacrifice, but nearness, intimacy. Where was this Mikdash erected? Was it separate from the camp, off at a distance, so that you’d have to hike out to it? No- it was in the center of the camp! And within the Mikdash was a special place considered the most holy- the Kadosh Kadoshim- the “Holy of Holies.” This most sacred space was the innermost room in the Mikdash- the center of the center. This representation of the sacred in space and architecture is not mere ritual magic from the past. It’s a pointer to the true sanctuary of Presence within your own life. There can only be one center of your life, and that center is the one place that life is actually being lived- this moment. You’re never separate from this moment, and yet- are you truly dwelling within it? “Asu li Mikdash v’shakhanti mitokham…” There’s a Divine call. It calls to us in pain and in joy, in excitement and in boredom. It says, “Come to the center. Build me a sanctuary.” How do you build it? The essence of the sanctuary is not the structure, but the space within the structure. The structure is already there as your body, your mind, your heart. They become a sanctuary the moment you allow there to be a space. The space completes the structure. Come into that space- come into your body, come into this moment. Bring your korban to the altar. Is there pain? Is there fear? Is there regret? Is there embarrassment? Bring it all. Let the fire on the altar of the present moment burn away the separation. If it hurts, let it hurt- your obstacles are being burned away- and the pain is temporary. In allowing yourself to feel whatever needs to be felt, there’s a transmutation that takes place. The energy of separation and pain burns up and becomes the energy of love. For when the illusion of separation caused by clinging is burned up, every face is a form of the Face; every being is a manifestation of Being. And when you see every person as nothing less than a Form of God, the Form of God that steps up to you in every encounter, can there be room for negativity? Can there be anything but the fire of love? And in that fire of love, will you hold back your forgiveness, or your asking forgiveness? A disciple asked Rabbi Shmelke- “We are taught- ‘Ve’ahavtah lereiakha kamokha- Love your neighbor as you love yourself.’ But how can I love my neighbor if he has wronged me?” “You must understand these words deeply,” replied Rabbi Shmelke. “You must love your neighbor as something that you yourself are, for all souls are one. Each is a spark from the original soul, and this original soul is expressed in all souls, just as your soul is expressed in all the different organs of your body. “It may happen that your right hand slips with a knife and cuts your left hand. But would you then take a knife with your left hand and start cutting your right hand to punish it? “It’s the same when your neighbor wrongs you. If you punish him, you punish yourself.” The disciple wasn’t satisfied- “But if I see someone who is truly evil, how can I love that person?” “Don’t you know,” replied Rabbi Shmelke, “that the original soul emerges from the Divine, and in fact is not separate from the Divine at all. So won’t you have mercy on the Divine when you see that one of Its sparks has become lost in a maze is being stifled by the deeds of that person who thinks he’s separate?” On this Shabbat Terumah, the Sabbath of Giving, may we guard and remember- Shamor V’Zakhor-to make every word a praise of the One, every deed an offering of love, rooted in the Sanctuary of Presence that is our own human body. Amein, Sela!
There is a classic story about a religious man who prayed mightily that he would win the lottery. All day long he would devote himself to prayer, learning, and helping others. He was very holy, but also very poor; if only he would win the lottery, he would be freed from the burdens of his poverty!
Day after day he prayed – “Please Hashem, have mercy and let me win the lottery!” But the days became months, the months became years, and still his prayers went unanswered. One day he broke down – “O Hashem! How could it be that you ignore my prayers! Every day I think of nothing but You, all day I put all my energy into serving You – why won’t you hear my prayer and let me win the lottery?” At that moment, the clouds in the sky parted and a Voice resounded from the heavens: “BUY A TICKET!!” Reality unfolds from the mysterious Source of all being. There is no separate “me” that makes things happen; even when it seems that we have some control, it is only because thoughts and impulses arise with “me” from beyond “me." The truth is, we are not in control at all, for the “me” itself is not something that we create; it arises from the same Place that all things arise from, and one day it returns there. And yet, from the perspective of this “me” who is not in control, there is a potential misunderstanding. The knowledge that we are not in control can lead to the erroneous decision to not do the very thing we can and should do; We can wind up wanting to win the lottery, but not buy the ticket. This is foolish, because obviously, we are not in any way separate from the One. It is true, the flower grows by itself; we cannot force it to grow. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t water it. There are definite actions we can take before we surrender and let things unfold. אֲדֹנָי שְׂפָתַי תִּפְתָּח וּפִי יַגִּיד תְּהִלָּתֶֽךָ: My Lord – open my lips, and my mouth will declare Your praise! This short prayer comes right before the Amidah, the most central Jewish prayer. Before we pray, we pray that we should be able to pray! This is the circle of nonduality – God prays to God’s Self through us that we should have the ability to pray. Grace and responsibility in One. There is a hint in the parshah: וְאִם־שֵׁ֥ן עַבְדּ֛וֹ אֽוֹ־שֵׁ֥ן אֲמָת֖וֹ יַפִּ֑יל לַֽחָפְשִׁ֥י יְשַׁלְּחֶ֖נּוּ תַּ֥חַת שִׁנּֽוֹ׃ If a tooth of his male slave, or a tooth of his female slave (is caused to) fall, to freedom they shall be sent out, on account of their tooth… - Shemot (Exodus) 21:27 (Parshat Mishpatim) This civil law (mishpat) comes to bring some sense of justness to the unjust practice of slavery; if the master knocks out the tooth of the slave, he must set the slave free. But let’s look more deeply at the Hebrew: The action of the שׁן Shin, the “tooth,” is to extract nourishment. Shin also represents fire in Kabbalah, which points to both transformation and watchfulness, as one uses fire to keep watch in the darkness of night. The one who watches is called a שמר shomer, a guard. Thus, on a symbolic level, the שׁן shin is the fire of awareness. The slave is called an עבד eved, which has the same root as avodah. Avodah can simply mean work, but in the language of Jewish spirituality, avodah means spiritual practice – prayer and meditation. The maidservant is called an אָמָה amah – but the form that appears here is אֲמָתוֹ amato, meaning “his maidservant.” Amato contains within it the word אמת emet, which means “Truth.” Through this uncovering of the inner dimension of the words, we might retranslate this passage thus: וְאִם־שֵׁ֥ן עַבְדּ֛וֹ אֽוֹ־שֵׁ֥ן אֲמָת֖וֹ יַפִּ֑יל לַֽחָפְשִׁ֥י יְשַׁלְּחֶ֖נּוּ תַּ֥חַת שִׁנּֽוֹ׃ If one’s practice is to cause the fire of awareness to fall into the Truth of the moment, to freedom one shall be sent out, on account of their watchfulness… Sometimes a person who devotes time and energy to spiritual practice can become frustrated. They might practice and practice, day after day, without much experience of the peace and spaciousness that is promised. The message here is, don’t give up! Your practice is like buying of the lottery ticket, or the watering of the flower – it doesn’t control the outcome, but it opens the door and invites the goal to manifest. The goal is like a flower which blossoms in its time; it is like a fruit that ripens when it is ready. It will come – don’t give up! Just do your part: Make it your practice to bring the fire of awareness down into the body, into the Truth of your experience as it is in this moment… This is the opening of the door, the Dalet of Grace which comes on its own, in its time: To freedom you shall be sent, because of your watchfulness…
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Soul on Fire – Parshat Mishpatim
2/17/2020 0 Comments A disciple of Rabbi Moshe of Kobrin awoke one morning overcome with worry, so instead of going to work, he went straight to the rebbe’s house. The rebbe was just sitting down to eat breakfast, and pronounced the brakha over his bowl of porridge: שֶׁהַכֹּל נִהְיָה בִּדְבָרוֹ – She’hakol nihyeh bidvaro – By whose Word all things exist! The rebbe did not greet him, but just went ahead and ate his breakfast, while the man waited. Finally, the rebbe said, “Zalman, I thought you were like your father, but I see you are not like him. Your father once came to me with a huge load of problems. Just as he entered, he heard me say, ‘she’hakol nihyeh bidvaro – by whose Word all things exist,’ just as you did. When I finished, I saw he was preparing to leave. “‘Abramele,’ I called to him, ‘didn’t you have something on your mind?’ “‘No,’ he said, and left. “Do you understand? When a person hears that all things exist only because of God’s Word, what more is there to talk about? This is the answer to all questions and worries.” Rabbi Moshe gave his hand to Zalman, who held it in silence for some time, then he bade his master farewell and left. The root of all angst of the soul stems from what the Torah calls the עֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע eitz hada’at tov vara – the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad. That is, our ability to project our imagination into the future or the past and envision different possibilities. What shall we choose? What if this or that happens? What if things had gone a different way? Or, it could also be our resistance the present moment, our saying “no” to what is actually present. This ability to envision and judge is not a problem in itself; that is what allows us to be creative and to make choices. But the problem comes when our ability to judge knocks us out of alignment with the present moment, which really means that we get knocked out of alignment with ourselves. We think we are worried about something “out there,” but really, we have created a split within ourselves. שֶׁהַכֹּל נִהְיָה בִּדְבָרוֹ – She’hakol nihyeh bidvaro – By whose Word all things exist! The truth of a spiritual teaching is not in its factuality, but in its ability to cut to the core of the one single problem: non-alignment with this moment. The true teaching at once sheds light on the root of the problem and simultaneously burns away all impediments, bringing one back to unity. There is a hint in the parshah: כִּֽי־תֵצֵ֨א אֵ֜שׁ וּמָצְאָ֤ה קֹצִים֙ וְנֶאֱכַ֣ל גָּדִ֔ישׁ א֥וֹ הַקָּמָ֖ה א֣וֹ הַשָּׂדֶ֑ה שַׁלֵּ֣ם יְשַׁלֵּ֔ם הַמַּבְעִ֖ר אֶת־הַבְּעֵרָֽה׃ When a fire goes out and finds thorns, and it consumes stacked or standing (grain), or a field, the igniter of the fire shall make restitution…
Parshat Mishpatim contains mostly civil laws for a maintaining a just society; the word mishpatim means just “judgements” or “laws.” The above law addresses the scenario of one who accidentally starts of fire, and the fire destroys their neighbor’s property. But on a deeper level, the kotzim – “thorns” – are resistance to the present moment; the true teachings, the mishpatim, are like a fire that “goes out” and burns up resistance. It then consumes the “stacked” and the “standing.” The “stacked” is the way we frame reality, the way we “stack” our thoughts and words together to describe what we think is going on. The “standing” means the grain that is growing from the ground, which represents our thoughts and feelings that spontaneously arise, before we “stack” them into bundles of words and judgements. Finally, the “field” is awareness itself, within which everything else arises. The true teaching, the mishpat emet is one that will ignite all these levels and return us to our state of radiance, the inner light of consciousness in which true Wholeness is found: הַשָּׂדֶ֑ה שַׁלֵּ֣ם יְשַׁלֵּ֔ם הַמַּבְעִ֖ר אֶת־הַבְּעֵרָֽה …the field, Wholeness shall make Whole, (through) the igniter of the flame… The phrase for “making restitution” is shalem yishalem – literally, “Whole shall make Whole” – hinting at the quality of Wholeness inherent within the sadeh – the “field” of awareness itself, which becomes revealed through hamav’ir et hab’erah – the “igniter of the flame” – that is, the true teaching. This Shalem, the Wholeness of the consciousness that receives this moment as it is, is the key to returning to Shalom, peace and freedom from worry… The Center is the Vast Open – Parshat Mishpatim 1/30/2019 0 Comments There’s a story of Rabbi Yaakov Yitzhak of Peshischa, that he didn’t have the happiest of marriages. His wife would frequently grow extremely angry at him and scold him at length. Normally, he would say nothing, and simply endure her words in silence, unaffected. But one time, he snapped back at her. Taken aback, she stopped her abuse and left the room. A disciple witnessed the whole thing asked the rebbe: “Master, you always endure her anger in silence. Why did you snap back this time? Did you lose your balance and become angry?” “Not at all,” the Rebbe replied, “I could see that she was growing more and more angry that I wasn’t reacting, so I pretended to get angry to help her feel better.” There are two common images that are often used to describe the state of equanimity – of freedom from one’s own negative emotions, or reactivity. The first is the image of dwelling in the center of your being. When you are at the center, reactivity may arise – anger, fear, jealousy, anxiety, and so on, but you’re are not caught in any of that because the emotions are simply bubbling up around you, while you remain in the “eye of the hurricane” so to speak. In this image, the chaos is external, and you are the calm center that sees the chaos, unaffected by it. The second is the image of being a vast space within which the reactivity arises. In this image, the chaos is within you, but you are so much more vast and spacious than whatever feelings are bubbling up, that they are insignificant. Both of these images actually point to two different practices for realizing freedom: being present with your body, on one hand, and knowing yourself as the vast space of awareness both within and infinitely beyond your body, on the other. These two practices are actually two different stages of the same practice, hinted at in this week’s reading: The Israelites all stand together in rapt awe at Sinai, while the mountain smokes and quakes, engulfed in cloud and fire: וַיֹּ֣אמְר֔וּ כֹּ֛ל אֲשֶׁר־דִּבֶּ֥ר יְהוָ֖ה נַעֲשֶׂ֥ה וְנִשְׁמָֽע And the people said, “Everything that the Divine speaks, na’aseh v’nishmah, we will do and we will hear.” (Exodus, 24:7) The ordering of the words in this verse, na’aseh v’nishma, is strange. You would think that the words should be the opposite – first you would hear, then you would do. But the fact that the words are reversed – “we will do” and then “we will hear,” teaches a key insight: If you want the freedom of knowing the vastness of your own being as the borderless space of awareness within which experience arises (v’nishma) – you must first bring your awareness deep into your own body (na’aseh). In connecting with your body, with your heart and with your breathing, your consciousness is drawn out from its ordinary activity of incessant thinking, and into its own nature as open space. There’s another hint of this unity between the center of your being and the vastness of your being earlier in the parshah, where it discusses how an indentured servent must be set free in the seventh year: וּבַ֨שְּׁבִעִ֔ת יֵצֵ֥א לַֽחָפְשִׁ֖י חִנָּֽם And in the seventh (year), he shall go out free, without charge. וּבַ֨שְּׁבִעִ֔ת – And in the seventh: In the image of the Star of David, the six rays of the star represent the six directions in space and the six days of the week, while seven is represented by the center of the star. This is Shabbat – the “eye of the hurricane” in time. Seven, then, is the inner sanctum, the holy center – the drawing of awareness into the temple of the body. יֵצֵ֥א לַֽחָפְשִׁ֖י – he shall go out free: And yet, through connecting with the center, yeitzei – there is a “going out” to freedom. This is the realization that the awareness that dwells within your body is not confined to your body. Rather, it is a vast field that knows everything you perceive; the air around you as well as the stars in the sky are all equally arising within the vast field that you are. חִנָּֽם – gratis, free of charge, an act of grace – this freedom is not something you have to work for or somehow create; it’s what you already are. Pay close attention to your actual experience in this moment and see – you are the freedom of awareness, right now... Cutting Through to the Essential Core – Parshat Mishpatim 2/8/2018 Exodus 23:6 כִּ֣י תִפְגַּ֞ע שׁ֧וֹר אֹֽיִבְךָ֛ א֥וֹ חֲמֹר֖וֹ תֹּעֶ֑ה הָשֵׁ֥ב תְּשִׁיבֶ֖נּוּ לֽוֹ׃ When you encounter your enemy’s ox or donkey wandering, you must take it back to him. כִּֽי־תִרְאֶ֞ה חֲמ֣וֹר שֹׂנַאֲךָ֗ רֹבֵץ֙ תַּ֣חַת מַשָּׂא֔וֹ וְחָדַלְתָּ֖ מֵעֲזֹ֣ב ל֑וֹ עָזֹ֥ב תַּעֲזֹ֖ב עִמּֽוֹ׃ When you see the donkey of your enemy lying under its burden and would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless raise it with him. לֹ֥א תַטֶּ֛ה מִשְׁפַּ֥ט אֶבְיֹנְךָ֖ בְּרִיבֽוֹ׃ You shall not subvert the rights of your needy in their disputes... It is told about Reb Mordechai of Neskhizh that before he became known as a rebbe, he was a businessman. All year long he would put aside some money from his daily earnings so that he would be able to purchase the finest etrog for the holiday of Sukkot. (An etrog is a citron fruit used in a special Sukkot ritual). One year, as Sukkot approached, he traveled to the city with all his savings to find the finest etrog. On the way, he encountered a distraught water seller whose horse had collapsed on the road, and the water seller stood in confusion and despair. Reb Mordechai immediately stopped and gave all his money to the him so that he might buy a new horse. "What does it matter?" Reb Mordechai said to himself, "While everyone else says their blessing on an etrog, I'll say mine on this horse!" There is a great richness to tradition and ritual, but the danger of such richness and complexity is that we can become lost in their agendas and lose touch with essential simplicity of true spirituality: transcendence of ego, knowing the Oneness and expressing this realization in kindness toward all beings we encounter. Hassidic tales such as these cut through the sometimes dense forrest of religion to the core of the spirit... Before- Parshat Mishpatim 2/23/2017 0 Comments “V’eleh hamishpatim asher tasim lifneihem- "And these are the judgments you will place before them.” In order to understand the distinction between your thinking mind and your awareness, it’s helpful to notice that while your thinking mind can’t function without your awareness in the background, your awareness isn’t at all dependent on the movement of your mind. A nice metaphor for understanding this distinction is the ocean and the waves. The waves are completely dependent on the ocean, because the waves are nothing but the surface movement of the ocean. No more ocean, no more waves. But if the waves cease to be, the vast ocean with its great depths remain. In the same way, your awareness is actually the vast ocean of consciousness within which the waves of your thoughts rise and fall. Now if you’re living mostly on the level of the waves, that’s the ego- the “me” with its problems, concerns, successes and failures. Of course that’s part of who you are on the surface of your consciousness, but the question is, is that where you want to live? Or, do you want to live in the vast depths of your consciousness, in the fullness of who you are, beneath those little waves of your mind-based identity. This week’s Torah reading is Parshat Mishpatim. Mishpatim means, judgments. It begins with God saying to Moses: “V’eleh hamishpatim asher tasim lifneihem- And these are the judgments you will place before them.” It then goes on to talk about various various civil laws that Moses is to teach the Israelites. But in the first sentence there’s a special hint about how to connect with the vast ocean of consciousness that you are, rather than be trapped by the waves on the surface. It says that the mishpatim, the judgments, should be lifneihem- before them. In other words, don’t get unconsciously absorbed into the judgements of your mind, but rather see your judgments as if they’re “before” you. That means, don’t try to stop your judgments or get rid of them, simply notice them and let them be. The more your practice noticing your judgments, without judging your judgments, the more you’ll begin to feel yourself as the noticing, rather than the judging. And that simple noticing is the vast ocean of consciousness beneath the waves of thinking. But in order to really keep your judgments lifanekha, before you, so that you don’t get trapped by them, you have to be willing to stay with the truth of whatever you’re perceiving, without imposing your own interpretation. The Hassidic rebbe, the Seer of Lublin once said, “I prefer sinners who know that they are sinners, rather than righteous people who know they are righteous people.” Now why would he say that? Because if you know that you’re a sinner, you’re probably seeing yourself truthfully- after all, most of us make at least a few mistakes once in a while. But if you see yourself as perfectly righteous, you’re probably interpreting things in a skewed way to satisfy a certain self-image. And self-image, otherwise known as ego, is on the level of the waves. Of course nowadays, there can be just as much ego in putting yourself down as in puffing yourself up, but the point is to let go of self-image, let go of needing things to be a certain way, and stay with your actual experience, because the part of you that knows your actual experience is that inner vast ocean of consciousness. So in this week of Shabbat Mishpatim, the Sabbath of Judgment, let’s practice seeing whatever judgments arise in the mind, allowing them to come and go in the space of this moment, through the practice of Presence and meditation. Good Shabbiissss! love brian yosef The Girlfriends- Parshat Mishpatim 2/3/2016 2 Comments If you awaken to spiritual freedom, does that mean that you’ll remain free all the time? Is spiritual freedom a permanent state? This question reminds me of before I was married, when I had different girlfriends. On one hand, they were committed relationships. On the other hand, we always had the choice to spend time together or not. At the end of the day, I was always free to go home to my own house if I wanted to. So, although there was a kind of commitment, it was nothing like being married. Does that mean “marriage” is a permanent state in which the relationship is constant and perfect? Of course not! Like all living things, it’s in motion. It needs attention and nurturance. And yet, there is something that changes completely when two people commit to having one life together, to be one family. Spiritual awakening is just like that. At first, you may have a spiritual experience. That experience tells you something about reality; it changes your whole outlook. However, like all experiences, it’s temporary. When it fades and another experience happens, you might forget all about what you’ve learned. You’re not having the spiritual experience anymore, so you don’t have access to its truth. You may long for that experience, you may seek it out in different ways, you may even find it. You may find it in sports, in music, in dance, whatever. But ultimately, it’s a place you visit, not the place you live. It is your girl/boyfriend, not your life partner. This week’s reading, Parshat Mishpatim, begins with laws regarding a male Hebrew indentured servant. It says that he can work for six years but must be set free in the seventh year (Ex. 21:2): “Sheish shamim ya’avod- “Six years he shall work…” The word for indentured servant is the same as the word for slave- eved. The master of the slave is called an adon- “lord”. But these two words, eved and adon, also have a completely different connotation: God is sometimes called Adon, and a holy person is called an Eved Hashem- a Servant of God. Seen metaphorically, then, the Hebrew eved that goes free is like someone who has a spiritual experience, but when the experience is over, s/he goes free from it. It’s only temporary. But then the text says that if the eved doesn’t want to go free, he is brought to a doorpost, declares that he loves his adon and his new wife and children and that he wants remain an eved. His ear is then pierced against the doorpost and becomes a slave forever (Ex. 21:6): “Va’avado l’olam- “And he shall serve him forever…” Metaphorically, this is one who becomes an Eved Hashem- a Servant of the Divine. It’s getting “married” to God. But if spiritual awakening is about freedom, what does that have to do with being a servant or a spouse? Why the contradictory metaphors? Rashi points out another contradiction in the text that will shed light on this first contradiction: In the above verse, it says: “He shall serve him forever.” But this contradicts another verse, which states that all Hebrew slaves are set free on the Jubilee Year, the last year in a fifty-year cycle, no matter what (Lev. 25:10): “V’ish el mishpakhto t’shuvo- “And you shall return each person to his family…” To resolve this contradiction, he says that the word olam- “forever” or “eternal”- is actually another word for the Jubilee Year, because after the Jubilee Year, the status of everything completely changes. The original state of reality is gone, so everything up to the Jubilee Year, the year of freedom, is called “forever.” So, being a “slave forever” gets you to “freedom!” Meaning- the point of committing yourself to a life of spiritual practice is to shift out of the time-bound, thought-created sense of self, into connection with That which is Eternal- the present moment, always existing as the space of your own awareness, beyond thought. How does that work? Back to our text- When it says the slave is taken to the doorpost, the word for doorpost is mezuzah- the same as the ritual scroll traditionally fastened to the doorposts of Jewish homes. And what is the first word of the text written on the mezuzah? “Sh’ma”- “Hear”! Hearing, unlike seeing and tasting, is the sense that we can't shut down; our ears are always open. We can't shut our ears to escape the sounds around us. Similarly, we can't escape Reality. There's nothing but Reality, everywhere! And yet, we create this inner resistance to Reality, and that resistance is the basis of ego- that contracted sense of self which imprisons the spirit. To relax that resistance means to return to openness- to be an open ear, wholly with what is. That’s the point- and the mechanism- of spiritual practice: to leave your identification with your inner resistance (ego) and awaken into your true and free nature as awareness, by "hearing" the truth of the present moment. At some point, when you’re ready, it’s time to “get married”- to let go of your attachment to mind created reality and commit to Actual Reality. Then, this moment becomes your Lord, your Master, your God. Reality becomes your “family”- your home base- the place you live, not the place you merely visit. Does that mean then the relationship is perfect? Of course not! There’s risk- failure is possible. But you’ve stepped into commitment with Beloved. And, just as relationships sometimes need coaches and therapists, so too the spiritual life is helped by spiritual teachers: Reb Yaakov Yitzhak, the Seer of Lublin, once said to his disciple, Reb Zvi of Zhidochov: “So long as I am alive, I’m not afraid that you’ll slip from your commitment to the Divine. But afterwards- who knows?” Said Reb Zvi: “I don’t want to live longer than you, rebbe.” “How can you say such a thing?” protested the Seer. “You are still a young man, and I am old!” “Rebbe,” replied Reb Zvi, “I will pray that you live forever.” “But does mortal man live forever?” asked the Seer. “I meant, rebbe, that you should live one hundred and twenty years, as Moshe Rabeinu (Moses Our Teacher) did,” explained Reb Zvi. “Come now, Reb Zvi,” said the Seer, “Just a moment ago you said ‘forever,’ and now you’re saying ‘one hundred and twenty years.’ A hundred and twenty years is not forever.” Replied Reb Zvi: “I came across the idea in some book I read that Moshe Rabeinu lived one hundred twenty years, corresponding to the number of Jubilee Years within our present six thousand year cycle. For in the Talmud it is written- ‘Shita alfei shanei havah alma- ‘Six thousand years the world will be…’ “And, in six thousand years, there are a hundred and twenty Jubilee Years. “In the Torah, furthermore, the Jubilee is sometimes called olam- meaning, ‘forever,’ as in the passage where the Hebrew slave pierces his ear- ‘Va’avado l’olam- “And he shall serve him forever…’ Meaning, the slave serves until the Jubilee year, which is called ‘forever.’ “The point is, I will pray that your hundred and twenty years on this earth should inspire me commit forever. Like that Hebrew slave, I should make the Eternal Beloved my Lord and my family…” “And in what book did you see that idea?” the Seer asked. “Well, actually,” replied Reb Zvi, “It could have been mine…” On this Shabbat Mishpatim, the Sabbath of Judgments, may we open to the one judgment now before us: Commit. Hear. Awaken. May we too write the “books” of our lives, each pointing toward this awakening, and may we support each other on our unique paths. And, may every personal transformation lead us speedily toward the evolution of humanity, to a time of true peace and mutuality. Good Shabbos! -b yosef
טוֹב עָשִׂיתָ עִֽם־עַבְדְּךָ You have done goodness with Your servant… - Psalm 119:65 The Hasidic rebbe, Rabbi Yehiel Mikhel of Zlotchov, pointed out a question that arises from this verse: why does it say עִֽם־עַבְדְּךָ im avd’kha, “with your servant?” Shouldn’t it say, “You have done goodness to your servant?” He answers that whatever good we do, we tend to be identified with the act; we tend to feel, “I am the doer.” But the hint in the verse is that God acts along with us. We are not isolated individuals making decisions, but rather whatever good we do, flows from the Source of all being; it flows through us as Grace. This teaching comes in contrast to an equally important yet opposite principle, that we must take responsibility for doing what we must do; no one can do it for us. This principle of taking responsibility is connected to the thirteenth path, the letter ג gimel, while the recognition that it is not “me” who acts, but rather it is the Divine acting through us, is connected to the fourteenth path, the letter ד dalet. וְעַתָּ֣ה לְכָ֔ה וְאֶֽשְׁלָחֲךָ֖ אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֑ה וְהוֹצֵ֛א אֶת־עַמִּ֥י בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל מִמִּצְרָֽיִם׃ “And now, go – I send you to Pharaoh, and you shall free My people, the Children of Israel, from Egypt.” וַיֹּ֤אמֶר מֹשֶׁה֙ אֶל־הָ֣אֱלֹהִ֔ים מִ֣י אָנֹ֔כִי כִּ֥י אֵלֵ֖ךְ אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֑ה וְכִ֥י אוֹצִ֛יא אֶת־בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל מִמִּצְרָֽיִם׃ But Moses said to Elohim, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and free the Children of Israel from Egypt?”
In the episode with Moses at the Burning Bush, Moses resists his mission – “Why me? Send someone else!” This is the common frustration we often feel – something is wrong, something needs addressing, and we wish someone else would do something about it. But, the problem beckons a response from us – it is we who must act. These are the times to access our inner gimel, that quality of greatness (gadol) inherent in our consciousness which can see and respond and bring about transformation. But contrast this with the passage in our parshah where Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro (Yitro), witnesses Moses taking too much responsibility: וַיַּרְא֙ חֹתֵ֣ן מֹשֶׁ֔ה אֵ֛ת כָּל־אֲשֶׁר־ה֥וּא עֹשֶׂ֖ה לָעָ֑ם וַיֹּ֗אמֶר מָֽה־הַדָּבָ֤ר הַזֶּה֙ אֲשֶׁ֨ר אַתָּ֤ה עֹשֶׂה֙ לָעָ֔ם מַדּ֗וּעַ אַתָּ֤ה יוֹשֵׁב֙ לְבַדֶּ֔ךָ וְכָל־הָעָ֛ם נִצָּ֥ב עָלֶ֖יךָ מִן־בֹּ֥קֶר עַד־עָֽרֶב׃ But when Moses’ father-in-law saw how much he had to do for the people, he said, “What is this thing that you are doing to the people? Why do you act alone, while all the people stand about you from morning until evening?” וַיֹּ֥אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֖ה לְחֹתְנ֑וֹ כִּֽי־יָבֹ֥א אֵלַ֛י הָעָ֖ם לִדְרֹ֥שׁ אֱלֹהִֽים׃ Moses replied to his father-in-law, “It is because the people come to me to inquire of God.” כִּֽי־יִהְיֶ֨ה לָהֶ֤ם דָּבָר֙ בָּ֣א אֵלַ֔י וְשָׁ֣פַטְתִּ֔י בֵּ֥ין אִ֖ישׁ וּבֵ֣ין רֵעֵ֑הוּ וְהוֹדַעְתִּ֛י אֶת־חֻקֵּ֥י הָאֱלֹהִ֖ים וְאֶת־תּוֹרֹתָֽיו׃ “When they have a dispute, it comes before me, and I decide between one person and another, and I make known the laws and teachings of God.” וַיֹּ֛אמֶר חֹתֵ֥ן מֹשֶׁ֖ה אֵלָ֑יו לֹא־טוֹב֙ הַדָּבָ֔ר אֲשֶׁ֥ר אַתָּ֖ה עֹשֶֽׂה׃ But Moses’ father-in-law said to him, “The thing you are doing is not good!” נָבֹ֣ל תִּבֹּ֔ל גַּם־אַתָּ֕ה גַּם־הָעָ֥ם הַזֶּ֖ה אֲשֶׁ֣ר עִמָּ֑ךְ כִּֽי־כָבֵ֤ד מִמְּךָ֙ הַדָּבָ֔ר לֹא־תוּכַ֥ל עֲשֹׂ֖הוּ לְבַדֶּֽךָ׃ “You will surely wear yourself out, and these people as well. For the task is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone!”
Jethro then advises Moses to set up leaders in a hierarchy of numbers of people – leaders of thousands, leaders of hundreds, of fifties, and tens. When the leaders of thousands can’t figure out a solution to the problems brought to them, they will turn them over to the leaders of hundreds. When those leaders can’t figure it out, they would come to the leaders of fifties, and so on. That way, only the most difficult problems will come before Moses, and the community will be able to function. The second thing Jethro advises is that Moses should deliver teachings and principles to the people, so the other leaders have something to guide them. Amazingly, it seems that the whole Torah system of mitzvot are the result of Jethro’s advice! Jethro’s words are an expression of dalet – it is good to take responsibility, but only to a point; then we must let go and let the rest of Reality participate; we must make room for Grace to manifest. הוּא הָיָה אוֹמֵר, לֹא עָלֶיךָ הַמְּלָאכָה לִגְמֹר, וְלֹא אַתָּה בֶן חוֹרִין לִבָּטֵל מִמֶּנָּה.: He used to say: It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to withdraw from it…
There is a mitzvah that embodies this principle: לֹא־תִרְאֶה֩ אֶת־חֲמ֨וֹר אָחִ֜יךָ א֤וֹ שׁוֹרוֹ֙ נֹפְלִ֣ים בַּדֶּ֔רֶךְ וְהִתְעַלַּמְתָּ֖ מֵהֶ֑ם הָקֵ֥ם תָּקִ֖ים עִמּֽוֹ׃) If you see your fellow’s donkey or ox fallen on the road, do not ignore it; you must raise it with him.
On the surface, this mitzvah seems to be one of simple kindness, of helping someone in need. But the Talmud clarifies: הלך וישב לו ואמר הואיל ועליך מצוה אם רצונך לפרוק פרוק פטור שנאמר עמו אם היה זקן או חולה חייב If the owner walked away, sat down, and said to you: “Since there is a mitzvah incumbent upon you to help, if it is your wish to unload the animal’s burden, unload!” In such a case, you are exempt, as it is stated: “You shall raise it with him,” that is, with the owner of the animal; if he refuses to participate, you need not help him!
In other words, there is a limit to how much responsibility we must take; there are times to help a person with their burden, while still letting the burden belong to them. In the spiritual sense, this principle applies also to our relationship with our practice in seeking to realize the Divine: it is our burden and responsibility to set aside the time and bring ourselves to the learning and the practice. But, the fruit of the practice comes on its own, as a form of Grace. The “fruit” of the practice is “God’s burden” so to speak; we can water a tree, but we do not cause it to grow. And, in truth, even our ability to take responsibility for our side of the equation is itself coming to us from Grace; at this point, the ordinary sense of “me” and “other” dissolves, and there is the recognition: there is only God, manifesting in all forms, in all beings. טוֹב עָשִׂיתָ עִֽם־עַבְדְּךָ – Tov asita im avd’kha – You have done good with Your servant…
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Freedom from Time – Parshat Yitro
2/10/2020 0 Comments It is said that Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Rymonov used to complain: “As long as there were no roads, you would have to pause your journey at nightfall. Then you could relax at the inn and have all the time in the world to recite Psalms, open a book, have a nice conversation with someone. But now that there are roads, you can just ride on day and night, and there is no peace anymore!” Rabbi Mendel lived in the 18th and early 19th centuries. Oh, I don’t think he would have liked how things have developed since then! But there is one great remedy for the never ending flow of busyness, and that is Shabbos. For one who keeps Shabbos, the world stops; not because there is any change “out there” but because there is a complete shift “in here” – for one who keeps Shabbos, ordinary involvement with the world comes to a full pause. The imagery in Kabbalah is that of intimate union within the Divine... וַיְדַבֵּ֣ר אֱלֹהִ֔ים אֵ֛ת כָּל־הַדְּבָרִ֥ים הָאֵ֖לֶּה לֵאמֹֽר׃ אָֽנֹכִ֖י֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֑֔יךָ אֲשֶׁ֧ר הוֹצֵאתִ֛יךָ מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם מִבֵּ֣֥ית עֲבָדִֽ֑ים׃ The Divine spoke all these words, saying: I am Existence, your own Divinity, that brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. The Divine is everything, but during the ordinary flow of time on weekdays, the constricting illusion of separation is generated by goal-oriented traveling in the highways of time. Then Shabbat comes – the sun sets, candles are lit, Psalms are sung, a book is read, but most importantly: the faint glow of Presence in all things becomes a bit brighter. We are brought out of the bondage of time, out of the busyness of Mitzrayim. זָכ֛וֹר֩ אֶת־י֥֨וֹם הַשַּׁבָּ֖֜ת לְקַדְּשֽׁ֗וֹ Remember the day of Shabbat, to sanctify it… That glow is consciousness itself, and the consciousness in each recognizes itself in the other; the Godliness in me holds hands with the Godliness in you. This is לְשֵׁם יִחוּד קוּדְשָׁא בְּרִיךְ הוּא וּשְׁכִינְתֵּהּ – for the sake of unification of the Holy Blessed One with Shekhinah, the Divine Presence that is ever-present. Shabbat is the fourth of the עֲשֶׂרֶת הַדִּבְּרוֹת the Ten Commandments. One way of understanding the Ten Commandments is by mapping them onto the ten sefirot of the Tree of Life. In this way, Shabbat gets associated with the fourth sefirah, Hesed – Loving-Kindness – hinting both at the love of all creation ignited by one who enters the sanctuary of Shabbos, as well as the realization that Shabbat itself is a gift, a supreme expression of loving-kindness toward us. However, in Kabbalah, Shabbat is often associated with the tenth sefirah, Malkhut, because Malkhut represents Shekhinah, the imminent and indwelling feminine Divine Presence that comes into union with Kudsha Brikh Hu, the transcendent and masculine Divinity. לְכָה דודִי לִקְרַאת כַּלָּה. פְּנֵי שבָּת נְקַבְּלָה Go my beloved to greet the Bride; receive the Presence of Shabbat! The tenth commandment reads: לֹ֥א תַחְמֹ֖ד בֵּ֣ית רֵעֶ֑ךָ ... וְכֹ֖ל אֲשֶׁ֥ר לְרֵעֶֽךָ׃ You shall not covet your neighbor’s house… or anything that is your neighbor’s. One of the weekday activities that is most difficult for people to put aside on Shabbat tends to be not the traveling on the physical highway, but the digital highway of information. Beyond the crucial literal meaning of this mitzvah not to covet, there is also this inner meaning: let your mind release the image of your neighbor’s house, your neighbor’s business, and come fully into your own house, the “house” of this moment, the Eternal Present; let Her come and unite through your own becoming present; She is waiting for you... Unlock Your Potential – Parshat Yitro 1/24/2019 0 Comments Years ago, I used to teach piano for a living, mostly to children. When they would make a mistake, most of them would just say “oops” and try again – no big deal. But there were always a few who wouldn’t be able to accept their own mistakes. They would become frustrated and cry and scream out: “I’ll never be able to do it!” Of course I knew they could do it, if only they would relax and try again. I would ask them to please trust me – “Just you wait and see, you will be able to do it. Just try again a little more slowly.” When you practice something, whether it’s playing piano or being present, you will inevitably get better and better at it. There’s no guarantee you’ll become as great as so-and-so, but you will get better – that’s just the way it works. And so, if your mind interferes by telling you that you’re not getting better fast enough, or even worse it tells you that you’ll never be able to do it, don’t get dragged into that drama. Know that you can and you will – you just need to stick with it. Why? וַיְדַבֵּ֣ר אֱלֹהִ֔ים אֵ֛ת כָּל־הַדְּבָרִ֥ים הָאֵ֖לֶּה לֵאמֹֽר׃ אָֽנֹכִ֖י֙ יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהֶ֑֔יךָ אֲשֶׁ֧ר הוֹצֵאתִ֛יךָ מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם מִבֵּ֣֥ית עֲבָדִֽ֑ים׃ לֹֽ֣א יִהְיֶֽה־לְךָ֛֩ אֱלֹהִ֥֨ים אֲחֵרִ֖֜ים עַל־פָּנָֽ֗יַ The Divine spoke all these words, saying: I am Existence, your own Divinity, that brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. This famous introduction to the “Ten Commandments” hint at a deeper truth: I am Existence, your own Divinity – your deepest “I” is not something separate from all Existence; it is your own inner Divinity. Meaning: the dimension of the sacred – which we might call freedom, presence, or oneness – is already who you are at the deepest level. Beneath and beyond your thoughts, beneath and beyond your feelings, beneath and beyond your sensory experience – you are freedom. It may take time for you to know this fully in your experience, but it takes no time at all to be begin practicing – you can always do it now. How? לֹֽ֣א יִהְיֶֽה־לְךָ֛֩ אֱלֹהִ֥֨ים אֲחֵרִ֖֜ים עַל־פָּנָֽ֗י There shall not be for you other gods before Me. In order to function, we need our minds to form a mental map of the world so that we can navigate through life. As long as we understand the difference between the map and the territory, thought can be our most useful tool. But when we mistake our thoughts about reality for actual Reality, that’s idolatry on the deepest level. We take our own beliefs to be true, and thereby close ourselves off from intimacy with actual Reality: “I’ll never be able to do it!” Instead, be open – don’t put reality into a mental box. Don’t insist; don’t impose. Let go of your stream of thinking and let awareness flow into your body, opening to the full potential of what could be. We don’t really know anything – except that we are conscious, right now. Then you will know on the deepest level – Anokhi Hashem – your “I” – the deepest level of who you are – is not something other than the Divine you seek… Four Dimensions of Presence with Others – Parshat Yitro 1/31/2018 5 Comments This parsha begins with Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro, coming out to meet Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness. When Moses goes out to greet him, the Torah hints at four dimensions of being present with other people (Exodus 18:7):
“What is the “shalom” – the eternal dimension – of this person standing before me?" In becoming aware of the eternal dimension of Being in another person, you also bring forth your own eternal dimension, and Being beholds Being… One of These Things is Not Like the Others- Parshat Yitro 1/27/2016 0 Comments For some, spirituality is all about generosity and kindness. For some, it’s about creativity. For others, it’s going out into nature. Or going in, deep within yourself… But while there are many different spiritual entry points for many different personality types, there’s one Thing to which all these qualities point, that's fundamentally different from the others. In this week’s episode, Moses’ father-in-law Jethro (Yitro) goes out to meet Moses in the wilderness and give him some crucial advice. But first, Moses tells Jethro the whole story of how they escaped from Egypt, to which Jethro replies (Ex. 18:11): “Atah yadati ki gadol Hashem mikol ha’elohim…” This is usually translated: “Now I know that Hashem is greater than all the gods…” The word for “gods” is “elohim”- a very interesting word, because not only does elohim mean “gods,” it's also a Name of God Itself. In fact, it’s the Name used in the beginning of the Torah when God creates the universe: “Bereisheet bara Elohim et hashamayim v’et ha’aretz- “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…” So Elohim the Creator is the source of all the diversity in the universe. This plurality is hinted at by the Name itself, because Elohim is a plural word, which is why it can also mean “gods.” In this sense, then, Elohim would mean “God of Plurality.” But what does Hashem mean? Hashem is the four letter unpronounceable Name YHVH that means “Existence” or “Being.” So understood this way, it’s saying that Existence is the greatest Divine quality: “God (Hashem- Beingness) is greater than God (Elohim- plurality of qualities)” There are many Divine qualities- kindness, creativity, inwardness, connection with nature, and so on. But of all of them, the simple quality of Being is the greatest. The nice thing about that is you don’t have to achieve Being. Everything is already just Being. All of the many qualities (or middot) are important for shaping your life as an expression of Being.That’s the ongoing project of spiritual work on yourself and on the world. But the project of just Being is a cessation from work. It’s an allowing of everything to be exactly as it is- and that’s the weekly project of Shabbat (Ex. 20:9): “Sheishet yamim ta’avod v’asita kol m’lakhtekha- “Six days you shall labor and do all your work…” Working to cultivate the Divine qualities, to create and maintain better forms and structures, is crucial. It’s the majority of what we’re here to do. But the center of life is Shabbat- the center is Being- “V’yom hashvi’i Shabbat Ladonai Elohekha- “And the seventh day is a Shabbat for the Divine…” But if Being is the greatest quality, how do we come to experience and know this for ourselves? The answer is in Jethro’s words- “Atah yadati- NOW I KNOW (that God-Hashem- Beingness is greater than God-Elohim- plurality of qualities…)” To truly “know” the Greatest Quality, you have to connect with the “Now.” In fact, the word for "know" is da'at, which also means intimacy. So it's not just an intellectual knowing, but a knowing through intimate connection. This moment has a texture, a flavor, an aliveness, if you would but take a "Shabbat" to taste It, to feel It, to dive into It. Underneath all the doing, the cultivating, the creating, is the Divinity of this moment, always available, yet easily obscured. Going back to the story- what was Jethro’s advice to Moses? Precisely this- take a Shabbat! Jethro saw that Moses would “burn out” as a leader if he didn’t delegate some of his duties and take some rest. So on this Shabbat Yitro, the Sabbath of Advice, may we too take Jethro’s advice, to balance our doing with Being and taste the Greatness of Existence. May the shining Wholeness of Being reshape all our doing as well, bringing this world swiftly to realize peace, healing and sustenance for all. Good Shabblisss! b yosef Lost and Found- Parshat Yitro 2/5/2015 7 Comments When I was young, I loved Spiderman. I also loved to dress up. But I didn’t want to dress up as Spiderman, which would be unoriginal, so I invented a new superhero: “Inchiderman”. “Inchiderman” combined the powers of a spider with the powers of an inchworm. I don’t know why I thought the powers of an inchworm would be helpful, but he was my superhero. I put together the costume with a pair of tights, a red and blue winter coat and a paper mask I had made. I also constructed a web shooter from a syringe, which I filled with a combination of Crazy Glue, Elmer’s Glue and honey. Back in those days I lived with my family on three acres of mostly woods in Pomona, New York. One day I went out into the woods dressed as Inchiderman with my dog Ophelia. I hiked out to the end of the woods, beyond which were apple orchards. I ventured into the orchards for a while and then came back to the woods. But, I couldn’t find the path that led back to my house. I wandered around for a while and eventually realized that I was lost. I started to panic and cry. I ran this way and that, crying and yelling, “Help!” Ophelia, however, was happy. She jumped around and played while I freaked out. She wasn’t lost. I got mad and yelled at her- “Ophelia, take us home!” but she just jumped and played. Eventually I stopped panicking. I was still scared and sad, but I stopped crying and running. Ophelia stopped too. She just looked at me, waiting to see what would happen next, but there was nothing next. I was just lost. Something within me had shifted. I can remember feeling the presence of the forest, the smell of the crisp air, the sound of the wind in the trees. My Inchiderman fantasy was gone, and I was just present with the forest and with Ophelia. Scared and sad, but present. Then, out of nowhere, a man appeared and showed me the way to a path that led to the back of the swimming pond down the street from my house. Ophelia and I took the path and found the road. I carried my ripped Inchiderman mask and syringe web shooter back home. In this week’s Torah reading, Parshat Yitro, the Israelites too were in the wilderness. They too had been panicking, complaining and crying to go back to Egypt. In this parsha they come to the foot of Mt. Sinai and prepare themselves to receive the Torah. The mountain quakes with fire and thunder. There is a sound of a blasting ram’s horn that begins quietly, then gets louder and louder. The people are terrified and tremble. And then, from the midst of the cloud and fire, a Voice begins to speak the sayings that became known as the “Ten Commandments”- “Anokhi Hashem Elohekha asher hotzeitikha etkhem me’eretz Mitrayim, mibeit avadim- I am Hashem your G-d who brought you out from the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage…” What exactly is this first “commandment”? According to Maimonides (b. 1135- d.1204 CE) in his work Sefer HaMitzvot, the first commandment is just to believe in G-d, to acknowledge that G-d freed our ancestors from slavery. But there is a message here that is not merely about the past or about belief, but rather it directly applies to this moment within which we now find ourselves: “Anokhi Hashem” means that the “Anokhi,” the “I”, is actually “Hashem”- Divine. Meaning, the inner identity of everything is the ultimate, living Presence of Existence; that’s what the Divine Name actually means. The Israelites are shaken by the terrible awesomeness of the natural world around them, and in that heightened state, the inner identity of nature reveals Itself. It’s not about believing in the idea of a divine entity. It’s not about adding another concept to the mind’s ideas about reality. It’s about recognizing Existence Itself- recognizing That which the mind cannot map. The next thing the Voice says is that It “brought you out from the land of Egypt.” Why is liberation particularly connected to the self-revelation of Divinity? The mind is a mapping device. It is a navigation unit, constantly creating an inner context through which we know who and where we are and what we are doing. Very useful! But this creates the side effect of seeing reality through the screen of that map. The mind sees the surface of things- a collection of related but separate parts, and the mind also feels itself to be separate from what it sees. But there comes a time when the inner map breaks down, and we are lost. Somehow we lose the continuity of the mind-created context and the familiar disappears. We step out of the Mitzrayim of the known, of the conditioned mental patterns of separateness. This "wilderness" can be terrifying. And yet, in the unknown there is the possibility of connecting with Reality in a very direct way, a way that knows Being as a Whole, as a Oneness. This knowing is itself liberation- liberation from the burden of time and conditioned identity. When the Israelites receive this revelation, the text says “v’khol ha’am ro’im et hakolot- all the people saw the sounds.” Not heard the sounds, but saw! In other words, they perceived everything in a completely new way. It is a kind of awakening. I think that’s what happened to me that day in the woods when I got lost. After the initial terror and panic, after the “thunder and fire”, there was this stillness, this recognition. There was a new kind of seeing. And then, miraculously, the salvation that appeared. The other night, my son and I were watching the new version of Cosmos with the physicist Neil deGrasse Tyson. Tyson began by defining our “cosmic address.” First, he showed us, we are on planet Earth. Then, the perspective pulls back to reveal our Solar System. Then, it pulled out even more to the Milky Way Galaxy. Then even further to see the family of galaxies that the Milky Way is part of, called the Local Group. Then, even further, the Local Group was part of a larger cluster of galaxy families, called the Virgo Supercluster. Then it pulled out even further to view the many clusters that make up the Observable Universe. But what comes after that? We had come to limits of our map, beyond which was simply mystery. He then hypothesized that our whole universe is merely a single bubble in an infinite ocean of bubbles, each one a complete universe. Now, where would that ocean be exactly? The imagination reaches out toward infinity and comes to stillness. Ultimately, we don’t and can’t know where or what or even why any of this is. And yet we do know- Hinei! Here it is! Try it yourself- Stretch your imagination out into the universe until you reach its boundaries. You may find that, in the sensation of trying to imagine the unimaginable, there is an emptying of the mind and a simple, blooming awareness of whatever is around you and within you now, in this moment. When that begins to happen, just let it. Give up trying to "grasp" anything. Simply relax your sense of what is going on, of where you are, of who you are, of what you are doing. Don’t push it away, just let it go. Open yourself to this moment as it is unfolding, the way you would toward an intimate friend. Lose your self, find the One. Let the Anokhi- the inner Presence of Existence- take you into the freedom of this eternal present. And in the Light of that lightness, of that benevolent Presence that is also your own inner identity, may all of our words and actions shine for healing, love and peace. Amein. |
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