Parshah Summary – P’sha
The word metzora refers to a person afflicted by tzará’at, a scaly affliction of the skin which places them in a state of being ritually unfit to make offerings. The parshah begins by detailing how the recovered metzora is purified by the kohen (priest) with a special ritual involving two birds, spring water in an earthen vessel, a piece of cedar wood, a scarlet thread and a bundle of hyssop. A home can also be afflicted with tzará’at by the appearance of dark red or green patches on its walls. In a process lasting as long as nineteen days, a kohen determines if the house can be purified, or whether it must be demolished. Ritual impurity can also be engendered through a seminal or other discharge in a man, and menstruation or other discharge of blood in a woman, necessitating purification through immersion in a mikvah.
Torah of Awakening
זֹ֤את תִּֽהְיֶה֙ תּוֹרַ֣ת הַמְּצֹרָ֔ע בְּי֖וֹם טׇהֳרָת֑וֹ וְהוּבָ֖א אֶל־הַכֹּהֵֽן׃ וְיָצָא֙ הַכֹּהֵ֔ן אֶל־מִח֖וּץ לַֽמַּחֲנֶ֑ה וְרָאָה֙ הַכֹּהֵ֔ן וְהִנֵּ֛ה נִרְפָּ֥א נֶֽגַע־הַצָּרַ֖עַת מִן־הַצָּרֽוּעַ׃ וְצִוָּה֙ הַכֹּהֵ֔ן וְלָקַ֧ח לַמִּטַּהֵ֛ר שְׁתֵּֽי־צִפֳּרִ֥ים חַיּ֖וֹת טְהֹר֑וֹת וְעֵ֣ץ אֶ֔רֶז וּשְׁנִ֥י תוֹלַ֖עַת וְאֵזֹֽב׃ This shall be the ritual for a metzorah on the day of their purification: they are brought to the priest. The priest shall go outside the camp, and the priest shall see that the metzorah has been healed of the scaly affliction. The priest shall then command to take for the one to be purified: two live pure birds, cedar wood, crimson thread, and hyssop. - Vayikra (Leviticus) 14:2-4; Parshat Metzorah
A couple sits anxiously in the therapist’s office, unsure how to begin talking about their problems at home. “Why don’t you start,” says the therapist to the woman. “My husband is a jerk!” she blurts. “Please,’” says the therapist, “Only ‘I’ statements. Don’t tell me about him, tell me what’s going on with you. You can start by saying, ‘I feel…’”
“Okay,” says the wife, “I feel like he is a jerk!” Differentiating between your actual feelings in the present moment and your impulse to accuse, judge, or blame, is not easy when emotions are inflamed, but making this distinction is crucial. There is a world of difference between. “I feel like he is a jerk,” on one hand, and “When he comes home late, I feel a pain in my stomach,” on the other. The first is an attack – it is accusatory. It is also an opinion, a judgement, not a true statement, and it puts the responsibility on something outside of oneself. The second is absolutely truthful – and also vulnerable, exposing the actual experience of what happens when he “comes home late.” The difficulty, of course, is that when we feel emotional pain, the last thing we want is to be vulnerable. The impulse is likely to attack back, to accuse, to blame. But ultimately, this is a self-defeating impulse; our negative words perpetuate our problems rather than correcting them. There’s a Jewish proverb of unknown origin: “A bird that you set free may be caught again, but a word that escapes your lips will never return.” שְׁתֵּֽי־צִפֳּרִ֥ים חַיּ֖וֹת טְהֹר֑וֹת – two live pure birds… In the ritual of purification, one of the birds is slaughtered over an earthenware vessel filled with water. The remaining live bird is then held together with the cedar wood, the crimson thread and hyssop, and dipped into the bloody water. The water is then sprinkled on the afflicted person seven times, and the live bird is set free into an open field. What does this mean? Medieval commentator Rabbeinu Ephraim explains the symbolism of this ritual in transformational terms. The first bird represents negative speech – gossip and slander. The “earthenware vessel” represents our physical bodies. The “bird” being “slaughtered” over the “vessel” means freeing ourselves from arrogance by becoming aware of the fragile and temporary nature our bodies, so that the impulse toward negative speech is “slaughtered.” כְּלִי־חֶ֖רֶשׂ עַל־מַ֥יִם חַיִּֽים – an earthen vessel, over living waters… The “living waters” represent Truth, which fills the humble “earthen vessel,” our bodies, once the arrogance is removed. The bird that is set free represents the disease of tzará’at, – just as the bird flies away, so should the disease depart. But, just as the bird might return, so too can the affliction return if one falls back into patterns of negative speech. Why is it so easy to fall back into negative speech? Why is it so hard to stay free from judgement and projection, and instead stay present with what we are actually experiencing, so that we might be nourished by the “living waters” of the vulnerable truth? Because the truth can be painful and ego crushing. And yet, when we project blame and judgment without fully being with the truth of our experience, healing cannot happen. Instead, we become the disease – a disease of living on the surface of life, of holding back from our inner depths, out of fear that our depths will be too painful; that is why tzará’at is a skin disease. Like returning home after a trip – the windows and doors have been shut and the atmosphere is stagnant and stuffy, until they are opened to let the air flow again. That’s what it’s like – our inner world can be like a shut up house, festering. But open the doors and windows – speak the truth, and healing begins: שִׁוַּ֥עְתִּי אֵ֝לֶ֗יךָ וַתִּרְפָּאֵֽנִי – I cried out to You and you healed me… (Psalm 30) This is the true potential of prayer and meditation – to “open up the house” every day – to feel whatever needs to be felt in meditation, and to express whatever needs to be expressed in prayer. In this way, we tap the healing power of Presence; the “living waters’ can nourish the “home” of our bodies and renew our spirits. There is a story that the poverty of Reb Mordechai of Pintchov was so extreme, he could barely support his household at all. His wife would nag him incessantly to tell their woeful situation to his rebbe, the Seer of Lublin. Time after time he would travel to Lublin, but never once did he mention his troubles to the Seer, because upon arriving there he would forget them completely. Being a practical woman, his wife decided to say nothing more, but to make the journey there by a separate wagon immediately after he had left home. When Reb Mordechai arrived at Lublin, he was confronted by the fact of his wife’s presence. There was no way out, and so he told the Seer all about their state of affairs at home. “Why did you never mention this until now?” asked the Seer. “Master,” answered Reb Mordechai, “I assumed that my situation would be known to you through Ruakh Hakodesh – through the holy spirit that rests upon you.” “Not so,” answered the Seer. “It is true, the Torah says: A person whose skin has the plague of tza’árat shall be brought to a priest, וְרָאָ֣ה הַכֹּהֵ֣ן – the priest shall see. That is to say: As soon the ailing person is brought before the priest, the priest will be able to see the malady for himself, without being told. But, in the case of plagues that affect houses, the Torah teaches otherwise: And the house owner shall come and tell the priest, saying: כְּנֶ֕גַע נִרְאָ֥ה לִ֖י בַּבָּֽיִת – ‘Something like a plague seems to be in the house!’ From this we see that for plagues affecting houses, the priest cannot see it; he must be told about it.” On this Shabbat Metzorah – the Sabbath of Affliction – may we not shrink away from the “bitter herbs,” but rather may we fully feel and truthfully express our inner afflictions as they arise – not with judgment and blame, but as healing prayer. And in this Passover season, may our journey of inner liberation be reflected swiftly in the world; may our current plagues of violence and war come swiftly to an end for peace and wellbeing of all peoples.
Read past teachings on Metzorah HERE
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Parshah Summary – P’sha
The parshah opens with the laws of purification after a woman gives birth, which includes immersing in a mikvah (a naturally gathered pool of water) and bringing offerings. All male infants are to be circumcised on the eighth day of life. It then details the subject of tzaraat, an affliction which can afflict people’s skin as well as garments or homes. If white or pink patches appear on a person’s skin (dark red or green in garments), a kohen is summoned. Judging by various signs, such as an increase in size of the afflicted area after a seven-day quarantine, the kohen pronounces It tamei (ritually unfit) or tahor (ritually fit). A person afflicted with tzaraat must dwell alone outside of the camp (or city) until they are healed, and the afflicted area in a garment or home must be removed. If the tzaraat recurs, the entire garment or home must be destroyed.
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
דַּבֵּ֞ר אֶל־בְּנֵ֤י יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר אִשָּׁה֙ כִּ֣י תַזְרִ֔יעַ וְיָלְדָ֖ה זָכָ֑ר וְטָֽמְאָה֙ שִׁבְעַ֣ת יָמִ֔ים כִּימֵ֛י נִדַּ֥ת דְּוֺתָ֖הּ תִּטְמָֽא׃ וּבַיּ֖וֹם הַשְּׁמִינִ֑י יִמּ֖וֹל בְּשַׂ֥ר עׇרְלָתֽוֹ׃ וּשְׁלֹשִׁ֥ים יוֹם֙ וּשְׁלֹ֣שֶׁת יָמִ֔ים תֵּשֵׁ֖ב בִּדְמֵ֣י טׇהֳרָ֑הֿ בְּכׇל־קֹ֣דֶשׁ לֹֽא־תִגָּ֗ע וְאֶל־הַמִּקְדָּשׁ֙ לֹ֣א תָבֹ֔א עַד־מְלֹ֖את יְמֵ֥י טׇהֳרָֽהּ׃ Speak to the Children of Israel, saying: When a woman conceives and gives birth to a male, she shall be tamei seven days; like the days of her menstrual separation, she is tamei. On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised. For thirty-three days she shall dwell in the blood of taharah: Any holy thing she shall not touch, and into the holy space she shall not enter until her days of taharah are full… - Vayikra (Leviticus) 2-4; Parshat Tazria
Rabbi Mendel was sunk in great poverty. One day, when he was a guest at Rabbi Elimelekh’s opulent table, a servant forgot to give him a spoon. When they came to the soup course, everyone ate except for Rabbi Mendel. The tzaddik noticed and asked him, “Why aren’t you eating? Is the soup not to your liking?”
“I have no spoon,” said his guest sheepishly. “Look,” said Rabbi Elimelekh, “one must know enough to ask for a spoon, and a plate too, if need be!” Rabbi Mendel took the word of his teacher to heart. From that day on, his fortunes were on the mend. The story points out a potential danger of a living a committed spiritual life. In ordinary life, when we become involved with worldly endeavors, our tendency is to become emotionally “attached” to our goals – meaning, our sense of “rightness” becomes conditional. If we are successful, we are okay; if not, we are miserable. Spiritually speaking, this kind of attachment to the fruits of action is poison, causing us to lose our connection with the Eternal as we become caught up in the dramas of the temporal. But, as Rabbi Elimelekh points out, attempting to avoid involvement with the world altogether is absurd; one must “ask for a spoon or a plate” when necessary. The trick, of course, is balance. If we wish to lead a committed spiritual life, we will still need to dip into the temporal. After all, the material world is the vehicle through which we can come to realize the Eternal; the two are not separate. אִשָּׁה֙ כִּ֣י תַזְרִ֔יעַ וְיָלְדָ֖ה – When a woman conceives and gives birth… On the metaphorical level, “conceiving” and “giving birth” means to create some effect in the world. Whatever it is we are trying to accomplish, action begins with “conceiving” – with the spontaneous arising of thought in the mind. Then, as our thoughts become clarified into decisions and manifest as actions, we “give birth” to something. This “conceiving” and “giving birth” is represented by the letter ה hei, the path of self-expression and individual uniqueness. וְטָֽמְאָה֙ – she shall be ritually impure… Whenever we engage in worldly action, we enter the world of time; we envision a particular goal and risk its failure by involving ourselves in the time-bound process of trying to bring that goal about. And as we dip into the temporal, there is the tendency to lose our connection with Eternal; meaning, to lose our identification with the open space of awareness beyond the thinking mind, as we become involved with the particular project in which we are engaging. We seem to lose whatever inner freedom we may have gained through meditation; we forget all about the space of this moment and get tangled up our situations. That is the state of tamei, the “ritual impurity.” שִׁבְעַ֣ת יָמִ֔ים – seven days… When we become “stuck” and we try to return to inner spaciousness, we may still feel “stuck. That is because before we can return fully to inner freedom, we first need to simply be present with whatever mind state we’re already in. The important thing is not to become disheartened and give up – but to just be wherever we are at. That is the “seven days” of being tamei – “ritually unfit” to enter the mikdash – the sacred space. “Seven days” means the world of time created by the mind that imagines past and future, as in the “seven days of creation.” כִּימֵ֛י נִדַּ֥ת דְּוֺתָ֖הּ תִּטְמָֽא – like the days of her separation… Niddah refers to the time of menstruation, but it literally means “separation,” hinting: when we are caught by the dramas of time, we temporarily lose connection with our inherent Wholeness; we feel “separate” from the moment, as our minds and hearts aim toward a different moment. But if we can stay with it, being conscious of the feelings of constriction that arise in the body, being present with our state of disconnection, the barrier to Wholeness will ultimately drop away. וּבַיּ֖וֹם הַשְּׁמִינִ֑י יִמּ֖וֹל בְּשַׂ֥ר עׇרְלָתֽוֹ – On the eighth day, the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised… The foreskin – the orlah – is a metaphor – a strange metaphor perhaps, but as a barrier, it hints at the feeling of separation that the ego feels. The number eight represents Eternity, as it is one step beyond seven, and on its side it is the symbol for infinity. The message is that when we are involved in “giving birth” to something in the world, there can be an inherent orlah – a feeling of separation, and that is okay and natural. So, when you find yourself in those “seven days” of disconnection from the sacred – just be there. It is only temporary. Stick with the practice, meditating and being present with the experience as it is. When you do this, you will certainly come to יּוֹם הַשְּׁמִינִי yom hashmini – the experience of the Eternal in the present moment, that sense of “arrival” where all barriers drop away. In this week of Shabbat Tazria – The Sabbath of Conception – let us remember to fully embrace whatever states we find ourselves in, and in that affirmation of life, seek to co-birth a more kind, loving and conscious world.
Read past teachings on Tazria HERE
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Parshah Summary – P’sha
The parshah opens with the eighth day (yom hashmini) of the inauguration ceremony for Aaron and his sons to begin officiating as kohanim (priests). In a dramatic appearance of Divine power, a fire streams forth to consume the offerings on the altar, and the Shekhinah, the Divine Presence, comes to dwell in the Sanctuary. In their enthusiasm, Aaron’s two elder sons, Nadav and Avihu, rush forward to offer aysh zarah – “strange fire.” They are consumed by the fire and perish, yet Aaron remains silent in face of his tragedy. Moses and Aaron subsequently disagree about a point of law regarding the offerings, but Moses ultimately concedes that Aaron is in the right. The laws of kashrut are given, identifying the animal species permissible and forbidden for consumption: land animals may be eaten only if they have split hooves and also chew their cud; fish must have fins and scales; a list of non-kosher birds is given, and a list of the kosher insects, which include four different types of locusts.
Torah of Awakening
וַיְהִי֙ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁמִינִ֔י קָרָ֣א מֹשֶׁ֔ה לְאַהֲרֹ֖ן וּלְבָנָ֑יו וּלְזִקְנֵ֖י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃ On the eighth day Moses called Aaron and his sons, and the elders of Israel. - Vayikra (Leviticus) 9:1 Parshat Shmini
In his early life, Rabbi Yehiel Mikhal of Zlotchov lived in great poverty, but not for an hour did happiness desert him. Someone once asked him: “Rabbi, how can you pray day after day: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ... שֶׁעָשָׂה לִי כָּל־צָרְכִּי Blessed are You… who provides for all my needs? For surely you lack everything that a person needs!” He replied, “Apparently, what I need is poverty, and that is what I have been supplied with.”
Rabbi Yehiel Mikhal’s response points to the deeper spiritual potential for how we may relate to our desires. Let’s look at what happens when we desire something, and then we receive the object of our desire. For example, food: we feel the pain of hunger, the desire to eat something, and then we eat and feel satisfaction. But there is something else going on that is easy to miss: that is, a different sense of incompleteness that is caused not by the hunger, but by the mental and emotional fixation on the object of desire. It is not just the incompleteness of hunger, but also a basic dis-ease with the present moment, a psychological “reaching” for a future moment when one imagines being satisfied. Then, along with the ordinary satisfaction of eating the food, not only is there a sense of completeness in satisfying the hunger, there is also (hopefully) a relaxing into present moment reality while one enjoys the food, and a dropping away of that dis-ease of wanting. That simple connection with the moment and the dropping away of dis-ease is itself satisfying – even more so, sometimes, than the food. This inner sense of inner Wholeness, available when we become present, is represented by the letter ג gimel. Although it is true that everyone experiences the ג gimel, the inner fullness of Presence, it is rare to discern between the two different levels of inner Wholeness and ordinary gratification. Instead, we are inclined to assume that all of our satisfaction comes from the food, or from whatever is the object of gratification. But in any receiving of satisfaction, the deeper pleasure comes not from the object, but from the temporary letting go of wanting and relaxing into connection with the present moment. That is ultimately the purpose of self-restricting practices like fasting, for example, or the giving up of bread on Passover. These practices work because, ordinarily, when we feel a craving for something, our heart tends to run after what we want and we lose our connection with Presence. But when we let ourselves feel the craving on purpose, returning attention to our present moment experience without getting carried away by our desire for gratification, then it is possible to re-awaken that sense of inner Wholeness, without needing to satisfy the external desire – this is the essence of meditation. With practice, we can become more and more rooted in this inner Wholeness, which opens the deeper dimension of the morning blessing: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלֹהֵֽ–נוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶׁעָשָׂה לִי כָּל־צָרְכִּי. Barukh Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melekh HaOlam, she’asa li kol tzorki! Blessed are You, Hashem, our Divinity, Sovereign of the Universe, who provides for all my needs! קָרָ֣א מֹשֶׁ֔ה לְאַהֲרֹ֖ן וּלְבָנָ֑יו וּלְזִקְנֵ֖י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל – Moses called Aaron and his sons, and the elders of Israel… Moses is calling to the priests and elders in order to give them instructions regarding the offerings they must bring in order to have a vision of the Divine. It then goes on in great detail about the animals and grains and oils the are to burn on the altar, which results in the desired vision. וַיֵָא כְבוֹד־יי אֶל־כׇּל־הָעָֽם – …and the Divine Presence appeared to all the people…. Why were all those offerings necessary to bring about a Divine vision? When we experience the satisfaction of eating, we can elevate that experience through gratitude – through affirming that our food is a gift from God. This is the practical function of the various blessings said for different foods. But if we want to experience the ג gimel – the deeper Wholeness that is present even within our neediness, then we must learn to differentiate the pleasure that comes from Presence from the pleasure that comes from gratification. We can do this through sacrifice – through purposely giving something up; such self-restricting practices are represented by the sefirah of Gevurah. Then, just as the Divine Presence appeared to the Children of Israel, so too we can taste the deeper satisfaction of connecting with the moment as it is, beyond all the temporary and finite pleasures, wonderful and necessary as they are. And when we do that, a deeper gratitude can emerge – gratitude not only for the particular blessings we experience, but for the opportunity we have to practice connecting with the unconditional Wholeness of simply Being through meditation. וַיְהִי֙ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁמִינִ֔י – And it was, on the eighth day… The first word, וַיְהִי vay’hi, is a form of the verb “to be,” which is the root of the Divine Name, hinting at this deeper meaning of the idea of God: God is an entity to be believed in, but relational word, signifying a prayerful attitude toward Being. The word בַּיּוֹם bayom means “on the day” but it can also mean “in today” meaning, in the Now. In other words, the Divinity of Being is not something to achieve or reach; it is Ever Present; it is always This Moment. The word הַשְּׁמִינִי hashmini means “the eighth.” In Kabbalah, the number seven signifies the natural world, as in the seven days of creation. The number eight, then, is beyond nature – Infinity. We also have this meaning in the shape of our Arabic number eight, which when turned on its side, is a symbol for Infinity. In other words, when we connect with the Divinity of Being by becoming present, there is an experiential sense of the Infinite, as we come to feel the boundlessness of the field of awareness that we are, within which all experience comes and goes, including the experience of want. In this week of Shabbat Sh’mini, the Sabbath of the Infinite, let us absorb the lessons of Gevurah – of delaying and sometimes surrendering gratification, thereby strengthening our connection with that deeper satisfaction of ג gimel, in Eternal Present.
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