Parshah Summary – P’shat
The parshah opens with the description of Noah as an ish tzaddik tamim, a righteous and pure person in his generation, and God expresses displeasure to Noah with the world which has become consumed by violence and corruption. God tells Noah that a flood is coming, and that he should build an ark to float upon the water, saving Noah and his family, along with members of each animal species. Rain falls for 40 days and nights, and the waters churn for 150 days more before calming and beginning to recede. When the ark settles on Mount Ararat, Noah dispatches a raven, and then a series of doves, “to see if the waters have subsided from the face of the earth.” When the ground dries completely—exactly one year after the onset of the Flood—God tells Noah to exit the ark and begin repopulating the earth.
Noah builds an altar and offers sacrifices. God swears never again to destroy humanity because of their deeds, and sets the rainbow in the sky as a testimony of the new covenant with human beings. God also instructs Noah regarding the sacredness of life: murder is explicitly forbidden, and while humans are permitted to eat the meat of animals, they are forbidden to eat flesh or blood taken from a living animal. Noah plants a vineyard, makes wine, and becomes drunk. Two of Noah’s sons, Shem and Yaphet, are blessed for covering up their father, while his third son, Ham, is punished for behaving inappropriately in the presence of his drunk and naked father, though his precise offense is not explicitly described. The descendants of Noah remain a single people, with a single language and culture, for ten generations. Then they try to build a great tower to symbolize their own invincibility; God confuses their language so that “one does not comprehend the tongue of the other,” causing them to abandon their project and disperse across the face of the earth, splitting into seventy nations. The parshah concludes with a chronology of the ten generations from Noah to Abram (who becomes Abraham), and the latter’s journey from his birthplace of Ur Casdim to Haran, on the way to the land of Canaan.
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
אֵ֚לֶּה תּוֹלְדֹ֣ת נֹ֔חַ נֹ֗חַ אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים הָיָ֖ה בְּדֹֽרֹתָ֑יו אֶת־הָֽאֱלֹ–הִ֖ים הִֽתְהַלֶּךְ־נֹֽחַ: These are the offspring of Noah; Noah was a righteous person, perfect in his generation; Noah walked with God. - Bereisheet (Genesis) 6:9
There is a story of Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotz, that as he grew older, he suffered pain in his eyes. He was advised to wear glasses for reading, but he refused: “I do not want to get a wall between my eyes and the holiness of creation.”
The eccentricity of the Kotzker in his refusal to wear eyeglasses may seem foolish, but the story hints an inner reality that tends to get between us and the world – that is, the “eyeglasses” of thought. Very much like physical eyeglasses, the thinking mind can allow us to see things more clearly; without the context of thought, we would have no idea where we are or what we are doing. And yet, the context and understanding provided by thought can also create a separation between ourselves and the fullness of the moment. Remove this separation and we may lose a sense of context and function, but we gain a certain intimacy with whatever is present, an intimacy that reveals that ineffable quality that we might call the “sacred.” And though we certainly can think and talk about the sacred dimension of experience, we access this dimension when we go beyond the thinking mind, into the silent field of consciousness from which it arises… נֹ֗חַ אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים – Noah was a righteous person, perfect… The word for “perfect” is תָּמִים tamim, which comes from תָם tam, meaning “simple,” as in the “simple son” of the Passover Seder. In that context, תָם tam is not a positive thing, at least on the surface; the תָם tam is normally thought of as someone without much intelligence – that is, someone without a strong thinking mind, someone without conceptual context. And yet, in the case of Noah, to be תָּמִים tamim is a good thing, and later in the Torah, it is even described as a mitzvah: תָּמִ֣ים תִּֽהְיֶ֔ה עִ֖ם יְיְ אֱלֹ–הֶֽיךָ: – Simple (tamim) you shall be with Hashem, your God… - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 18:13 And in Rashi’s commentary on this verse, he explains what it means to be תָּמִ֣ים tamim: כָּל מַה שֶּׁיָּבֹא עָלֶיךָ קַבֵּל בִּתְמִימוּת: – Whatever comes to you, accept it with simplicity (t’mimut)… This simple acceptance of “whatever comes to you” is the deeper level of being תָּמִ֣ים tamim. On the surface, it resembles being unintelligent; isn’t it stupid to “simply accept” bad things? But this common misunderstanding confuses “acceptance” with “approval;” we can accept whatever comes, and also respond to it with intelligent judgement; “acceptance” simply means offering no emotional resistance to the truth of what has already come about – this is meditation. So, being תָּמִים tamim doesn’t mean to be passively resigned to whatever happens; it means being present with whatever happens. There is a hint of this in the sound of the word תָם tam, which is pronounced almost the same as טַעַם ta-am, meaning “taste,” hinting: to be תָּמִים tamim means to “fully taste” the present moment, to be intimately connected with “whatever comes to you.” And furthermore, this connection with our situation includes what we do about the situation. For example, if we accept and “fully taste” a situation that is causing suffering, that may naturally lead us to a response aimed at relieving the suffering. נֹ֗חַ אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים – Noah was a righteous person, perfect… That’s why this pasuk describes Noah not only as תָּמִים tamim, but also as an אִישׁ צַדִּיק ish tzaddik – a “righteous person.” Presence is Acceptance and Love in One. אֵ֚לֶּה תּוֹלְדֹ֣ת נֹ֔חַ נֹ֗חַ אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים – These are the offspring of Noah, Noah was a righteous person, perfect… Another hint is in the unusual construction of the pasuk in which נֹחַ Noakh is written twice. The name נֹחַ Noakh actually means “comfort” or “ease.” The fact that it is repeated hints at two kinds of ease: ease within oneself (accepting what happens with simplicity, being תָּמִים tamim), and bringing easefulness to others (love, righteousness, being a צַדִּיק tzaddik). הֵם אָמְרוּ שְׁלשָׁה דְבָרִים. רַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר אוֹמֵר, יְהִי כְבוֹד חֲבֵרְךָ חָבִיב עָלֶיךָ כְּשֶׁלָּךְ, וְאַל תְּהִי נוֹחַ לִכְעֹס. וְשׁוּב יוֹם אֶחָד לִפְנֵי מִיתָתְךָ: They said three things: Rabbi Eliezer said: Let the honor of your friend be as dear to you as your own, and don’t easily become angry. And, return one day before your death. - Pirkei Avot 2:15 These three aphorisms are all connected: if you want to have the honor of your friend be as dear to you as your own honor, you’ve got to get free from your own anger, because it is anger that causes us to be callous toward others. Furthermore, there is a funny play on words here: וְאַל תְּהִי נוֹחַ לִכְעֹס – …don’t be easeful/comfortable (noakh) to get angry. In other words, if we want to be like Noah, if we want to be easeful, accepting what is (tamim) and we also want to be a helpful person to others (ish tzaddik), then we should not be noakh likh’os – “easy to get angry.” And how do we do this וְשׁוּב יוֹם אֶחָד לִפְנֵי מִיתָתְךָ: – Return one day before your death. On the surface it’s saying we should “repent” every day, because we don’t know what day we will die. But on a deeper level, this is the “death” of everything extraneous to this moment; it is the death of anger, of worry, of overthinking. We achieve this “death” through שׁוּב יוֹם אֶחָד – return one day – meaning, return to this moment. But to do this means cultivating a heightened self-awareness; we must learn to notice our inner state, to constantly discern between Presence and distraction אֶת־הָֽאֱלֹ–הִ֖ים הִֽתְהַלֶּךְ־נֹֽחַ: – Noah walked with the Divine… The Divine Name here is אֱלֹ–הִ֖ים Elohim, the Name associated with discernment. Our natural tendency is to become absorbed into our own thinking and then see the world through the “eyeglasses” of our minds. To counter this, we must constantly “walk ourselves back” to our actual experience, to the simple truth of the moment…
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וַיֹּ֨אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֜ה אֶל־יְה–וָ֗ה רְ֠אֵה אַתָּ֞ה אֹמֵ֤ר אֵלַי֙ הַ֚עַל אֶת־הָעָ֣ם הַזֶּ֔ה וְאַתָּה֙ לֹ֣א הֽוֹדַעְתַּ֔נִי אֵ֥ת אֲשֶׁר־תִּשְׁלַ֖ח עִמִּ֑י...
Moses said to Hashem, “See, You say to me, ‘Lead this people,’ but You have not made known to me whom You will send with me….” - Sh’mot (Exodus) 33:12
Rabbi Yitzhak Mer of Ger was once talking to a hasid of Rabbi Simcha Bunam. The hasid said that his master, Reb Bunam, once remarked he was amazed that a person wouldn’t become spiritually perfected by merely saying the Birkat Hamazon, the blessing after meals. Rabbi Yitzhak thought for a moment and then replied, “I think differently. I am amazed that a person isn’t spiritually perfected merely by eating! After all, a donkey knows its owner…”
We may not have so much experience with donkeys, but many of us have experience with dogs – how a dog will run to its owner with love and enthusiasm the moment they walk through the door. How does the dog know the owner is there? All it takes is the sound of the door opening, or the sound of the voice, and the dog comes running. The dog doesn’t want the door or the voice, the dog wants the person; but the sounds are the cue. Rabbi Yitzhak has something similar in mind – that if we want to “run” into the arms of the Divine, so to speak, we too can listen for the cues so to speak. But to do that, we must first recognize that there are cues; unlike the dog, we tend to be ignorant of the meaning of the “sounds.” Why is this? ה֤וֹרֵ֥נִי יְה–וָ֗ה דַּ֫רְכֶּ֥ךָ וּ֭נְחֵנִי בְּאֹ֣רַח מִישׁ֑וֹר לְ֝מַ֗עַן שׁוֹרְרָֽי: Reveal to me, Hashem, Your way, and guide me on a straight path, because of my opponents… - Psalm 27 The prayer expressed here in Psalm 27 refers to a שׁוֹרֵר shorer – an “enemy” or “foe” or “opponent” that would impede our ability to perceive the “cues” and walk on God’s “path.” The plain meaning is a reference to King David’s human enemies, but on a deeper level, it hints at an inner reality. There is a bumper sticker that reads, “Don’t believe everything you think.” This succinct piece of wisdom hints at the identity of the שׁוֹרֵר shorer as thought. We can understand thought as an “opponent” in cases of delusion; when the reality a person describes is completely different from what people normally consider to be true, we call that insanity. But there is some degree of insanity in all of us; when our minds make automatic assumptions and judgments, we tend to believe in our thoughts without question, especially if there is an emotional charge attached to them. In this way, it is our own thoughts that lead us onto a crooked path; it is our own thoughts that become the שׁוֹרֵר shorer, the opponent. אַל תָּדִין אֶת חֲבֵרְךָ עַד שֶׁתַּגִּיעַ לִמְקוֹמוֹ: Don’t judge your friend until you have reached their place… - Pirkei Avot 2:5 Until you have the same perspective as your friend, says Hillel, you should refrain from judging them; which is really the same as saying that we should never judge anyone, because it is impossible to ever see completely from someone else’s perspective. The message is: although we must sometimes make judgments, don’t believe in in your thoughts as absolute truth. Be open. Let your thoughts be translucent to the light that Reality continuously reveals, and be conscious of the infinite complexity that is not revealed. But if the function of the mind is thought, how can we possibly transcend thought? This we learn from the donkey, or the dog: listen for the cues; meaning, come out from thought and into the senses. Only with us it is even more simple – all we need do is pay attention to whatever is present, to whatever presents itself. And this is the deeper lesson of Reb Yitzhak’s spiritual perfection through eating: it is the realm of the senses that brings us into the arms of the Master, not the realm of language and thinking. This is Moses’ confusion as well: וְאַתָּה֙ לֹ֣א הֽוֹדַעְתַּ֔נִי אֵ֥ת אֲשֶׁר־תִּשְׁלַ֖ח עִמִּ֑י... – “You have not revealed whom You will send with me….” Moses is asking, who and where are You, God? How can I know You are with me? God responds by putting Moses in a cleft of rock and then “passing by” while shielding Moses’ eyes from seeing God directly. Then, the shielding is removed, and Moses sees God’s “back.” וַהֲסִרֹתִי֙ אֶת־כַּפִּ֔י וְרָאִ֖יתָ אֶת־אֲחֹרָ֑י – “I will take My hand away and you will see My back…” - Exodus 33:23 What is this “back of God” that Moses sees? It is nothing but the world of the senses, the Presence of whatever is present. And this is the deeper wisdom of Rabbi Yitzhak’s teaching about eating: this moment is Grace. You need not even wait until the next meal; every moment we are sustained by the air around us; every moment is a Gift. But we can only really see this if we come fully into the moment, if we come into the senses, into our bodies, into our breathing, and out from our belief in the world of thought. In this way, we can begin to see the supreme Beauty, the Harmony of forces that allows this moment to be, that allows us to be. Then, our thoughts need not be the enemy, they can function as part of that Harmony; they can become like the sukkah – not a solid edifice of assertions and beliefs, but a framing of the tiny space in this world we inhabit, a translucent embellishment of the Openness; this is Tiferet.
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There is a story of Reb Shneur Zalman of Liadi, that once he asked his son what he “prays with.” The boy answered that he inspires himself with the verse:
יִשְׁתַּחֲו֣וּ לְ֭ךָ וִיזַמְּרוּ־לָ֑ךְ יְזַמְּר֖וּ שִׁמְךָ֣ סֶֽלָה׃ כׇּל־הָאָ֤רֶץ All the earth bows to You and sings hymns to You; all sing hymns to Your Name, Selah. - Psalm 66:4 The boy then asked the rebbe, “What do you pray with, Abba?” He answered, “I pray with the bench and the floor.” There is a Sanctuary beyond words: a Place in which the heart is free and the mind is clear. This Place is a refuge from all stress, from all problems; that Place is Here; it is the “bench” upon which we sit, the “floor” upon which we stand. And yet, the ordinary human mind overlooks this Place. Living life almost entirely through the movement of the mind, this Sanctuary becomes overrun with the impulsive urgency of thought. In our search for peace, we may attempt to put our lives in order, to arrange things to our liking, so that stress and chaos are kept at bay. This ordering of life is a wonderful and necessary thing, but when you come to see that the source of all chaos and worry is actually your own mind, you can transcend chaos at the root. You can and must still organize things, but you’re not dependent on that for your sanity. Meaning: even when there is chaos, loss, failure and uncertainty, which there always will be, the Sanctuary is not lost. And yet, this is still a big secret, even for long-time spiritual practitioners: they may enter the Sanctuary in moments of prayer and meditation, but they cannot seem to stay connected in the midst of life. In this week’s special reading for Shabbat Sukkot, Moses seems to have this very problem. Moses – the one who speaks with the Divine face-to-face – is afraid that the Presence will depart and not accompany him on his journey of leading the people: רְ֠אֵ֠ה אַתָּ֞ה אֹמֵ֤ר אֵלַי֙ הַ֚עַל אֶת־הָעָ֣ם הַזֶּ֔ה וְאַתָּה֙ לֹ֣א הֽוֹדַעְתַּ֔נִי אֵ֥ת אֲשֶׁר־תִּשְׁלַ֖ח עִמִּ֑י... See, You say to me, ‘Lead this people onward’, but You did not reveal whom You will send with me…” - Shemot (Exodus) 33:12 Moses is afraid that the One who sends him on his mission will abandon him. What is the response? פָּנַ֥י יֵלֵ֖כוּ וַהֲנִחֹ֥תִי לָֽךְ׃ “My Presence will go and give you rest!” The Presence “goes” wherever you go! That’s because the “Presence” is not something separate from your own presence, from your awareness when it is actually present. And when your awareness is present, there is “rest”. The word here for “I will give rest,” הֲנִחֹתִי hanikhoti, has the same root as the name נֹחַ Noakh, the fellow who built the ark for the great flood. A different metaphor, but the idea is the same: there is an “ark” that floats above the “raging waters” in which you can find refuge. In the case of Moses and the Israelites, they lived in temporary dwellings on their journeys – the sukkot in which Jews everywhere are now preparing to dwell for this festival that commemorates the ancient tents of the Israelites. The sukkah is a sanctuary, yet it is not a solid thing. Open to the sky, vulnerable to the elements, it is really just a frame, not secure at all. And that’s the paradox: freeing your mind from thought does not mean something hard or effortful; it means relaxing the mind, allowing the mind to be open to the fullness of what is already present. But still, to do this consistently takes a special kind of effort that eludes most people. So much of the language of prayer expresses a longing for the fruit of this effort: אַחַ֤ת שָׁאַ֣לְתִּי מֵֽאֵת־יְהֹ–וָה֮ אוֹתָ֢הּ אֲבַ֫קֵּ֥שׁ שִׁבְתִּ֣י בְּבֵית־יְ֭הֹ–וָה כׇּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיַּ֑י לַחֲז֥וֹת בְּנֹעַם־יְ֝הֹ–וָ֗ה וּלְבַקֵּ֥ר בְּהֵֽיכָלֽוֹ׃ Only one thing I ask of You, Hashem, that I should dwell in Your house and meditate in Your sanctuary all the days of my life!- Psalm 27 The Sanctuary of Presence is ever-present, yet it is so easy to block. Like the sun: the sun is 864,938 miles in diameter, yet you can block its view entirely with just your little hand. And yet, even while you are blocking the Presence, the blocking is itself happening in the present. The only thing blocking God, ultimately, is God: וְהָיָה֙ בַּעֲבֹ֣ר כְּבֹדִ֔י וְשַׂמְתִּ֖יךָ בְּנִקְרַ֣ת הַצּ֑וּר וְשַׂכֹּתִ֥י כַפִּ֛י עָלֶ֖יךָ עַד־עׇבְרִֽי׃ “It will be when My Glory passes, I shall place you in a cleft in the rock and shield you with My hand…” - Shemot (Exodus) 33:22 When our fleeting and immaterial thoughts hide the “glory” of this passing moment, hardening the openness of the present into what feels like a narrow cleft of rock on all sides, remember: your thoughts themselves are also part of this moment. Accept them with openness and let them pass as well. In accepting and releasing your thoughts, they can dissolve, revealing the open space once again: וַהֲסִרֹתִי֙ אֶת־כַּפִּ֔י וְרָאִ֖יתָ אֶת־אֲחֹרָ֑י... “Then I will remove My hand and you will see my ‘back’…” Meaning: you will see in retrospect that your thoughts which block the Sanctuary are themselves part of the Sanctuary. They are part of the reality of the present moment. Then, bring your attention back to literally anything physical that is already present; bring yourself back to the bench and the floor. The more you train yourself to do this, the more you will become aware of the space behind whatever is present: the ineffable Openness that you are: Consciousness Itself.
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Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
וְהָיְתָ֥ה לָכֶ֖ם לְחֻקַּ֣ת עוֹלָ֑ם בַּחֹ֣דֶשׁ הַ֠שְּׁבִיעִ֠י בֶּֽעָשׂ֨וֹר לַחֹ֜דֶשׁ תְּעַנּ֣וּ אֶת־נַפְשֹֽׁתֵיכֶ֗ם: And this shall be to you a law for all time: In the seventh month, on the tenth day of the month, you shall afflict your souls. - Vayikra (Leviticus( 16:29
In his youth, Moshe Leib secretly changed his dress in the evening, left the house unobserved, and shared in the amusements of some young men his own age, singing and dancing with them at a local tavern. They all loved him and his most casual word was their Torah; yet he never told them what to do. When he went to Nikolsburg to study with Rabbi Shmelke in Sasov, they gave up their revelry because without him, they took no pleasure in it. After many years, one of them who had been traveling in foreign lands stopped in Sasov on his way home. In the inn and on the street everyone he talked with told him about a wonderful man, the great tzaddik Moshe Leib. When he heard the name, which was quite a common one, it did not occur to him that this could be his companion in the delights of days gone by, but his curiosity got the better of him.
He went to the rabbi and instantly recognized him. And the thought crossed his mind: “My, my, he is certainly an adept at deceiving the world!” But as he looked into Rabbi Moshe Leib’s face, a face he knew so well and that yet commanded his reverence, he realized the implication of his memories and suddenly understood that he and his friends had been guided without even knowing it, and that time and again their celebrations had been uplifted under the influence of a Torah they could not grasp. He bowed before the tzaddik and said, “Master, I thank you.” In this story, Moshe Leib is able to impart Torah to his friends without them knowing, which invites the question: what is Torah really? The text we call the “Torah” is part of our history and tradition, but it is not the Essence; we might say that it isn’t even the real Torah: Rabbi Shimon said: Woe to the person who says that Torah presents mere stories and ordinary words! . . . Ah, but all the words of Torah are sublime words, sublime secrets! . . . The stories of Torah form only the garment of Torah, and whosoever thinks that the garment is the real Torah and not something else—may their spirit deflate! - Zohar But if the text is merely the garment, what is the real Torah? כִּ֤י נֵ֣ר מִ֭צְוָה וְת֣וֹרָה א֑וֹר וְדֶ֥רֶךְ חַ֝יִּ֗ים תּוֹכְח֥וֹת מוּסָֽר׃ For mitzvah is a lamp, And Torah is Light, And the Way of Life is corrective self-discipline. - Mishlei (Proverbs) 6:32 ת֣וֹרָה א֑וֹר – Torah is Light… But what does this mean? Light does not have any substance or content in itself; rather, light is that which allows us to see substance and content. Similarly, on the inner level, Light is a metaphor for that which allows us to perceive anything at all; it is a metaphor for awareness, for consciousness itself. Seen in this way, we can understand the literal text, the “garment” of Torah as representing a meeting between consciousness and a particular moment in history. For example: today, at our present level of consciousness, we take for granted that slavery is wrong. But at the time of the Torah, slavery was a deeply ingrained reality. So, when consciousness met the reality of slavery in the time of the Torah, it couldn’t quite eliminate it then, but it did nudge it towards greater justice by giving slaves certain rights that didn’t previously exist, such as the law that if you injure your slave, you have to let them go free. To us this is totally inadequate, but for that time it was a positive movement in the right direction. And then, over a thousand years later, which is still about two thousand years ago from today, the rabbis outlawed most forms of slavery and then instituted other norms that eliminated all forms of slavery – something the rest of the world wouldn’t begin to do for another 1,800 years. In this way, the rabbis continued the process of justice that the written Torah began. So, as much as the tradition reveres that physical Torah scroll and the words written upon it, that Torah is more like a shadow cast by the Light of consciousness as it shone on a particular historical moment. The point is not the shadow – though it is wonderful that we have preserved it and trace our lineage back to it – the point is the Light; the point is consciousness. This understanding of Torah as a process of consciousness rather than a holy book is nothing new. It didn’t even originate in Kabbalah, but is in the written Torah itself: The Torah says that in every generation, the law must be reinterpreted according its core principles and applied in new ways, in new historical moments, in order to continue the process of manifesting its principles over time. It is important, then, for us to focus on the underlying universal principles through which we can continue the Torah’s process of evolution; that is the point of Torah of Awakening. And, as vast and complex as the Torah is, it really comes down to only three core principles. Or, more precisely, one core principle, applied in three basic ways. The first principle is the one we have just mentioned: צֶ֥דֶק צֶ֖דֶק תִּרְדֹּ֑ף לְמַ֤עַן תִּֽחְיֶה֙ – Justice, justice you shall pursue so that you may live… - Devarim (Deuteronomy)16:20 In other words, be benevolent; act fairly, with the aim to benefit everyone. Let your laws and institutions be based on this principle. And know that, though we have come a long way from some of the unjust elements in our texts, we still have a long, long way to go. Perhaps that is why the word tzedek, justice, is said twice – once for the application of justice that was possible in the time of the Torah, and again for the continually new applications of justice in each generation; may we all continue to evolve in this coming year. Applying this principle on the interpersonal level, we have the classic wisdom formulation: Vayikra 19:18: וְאָֽהַבְתָּ֥ לְרֵעֲךָ֖ כָּמ֑וֹךָ – Love your neighbor as yourself. -Vayikra (Leviticus) 19:18 And right before that: לֹֽא־תִקֹּ֤ם וְלֹֽא־תִטֹּר֙ אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י עַמֶּ֔ךָ – Do not take revenge or bear a grudge against the children of your people… In other words, it is an imperative for us to make peace with one another. Together, these two verses express this first principle of benevolence both in society and interpersonally. It is the outward, relational principle of consciousness in action, the principle of doing, and in this time of the Yamim Norayim, the Days of Awe, we have a special opportunity to make peace with one another, and commit to improving our own actions in this coming year. דֶ֥רֶךְ חַ֝יִּ֗ים תּוֹכְח֥וֹת מוּסָֽר – the Way of Life is corrective self-discipline. We must not see ourselves as a finished product, but continue to work on ourselves so that we might address any patterns of behavior that need to be corrected toward greater tzedek and ahavah, justice and love. Complementing this external Principle of Doing is the second principle, the internal Principle of Being. What does that mean? It means growing in our ability to be with the moment as it is, to accept the truth of whatever our experience is without resistance; in other words, it means to be present. This is the whole purpose of meditation and spirituality in general, and points the way toward liberation from the inner Mitzrayim, the inner Egypt, from our sense of self that is based on thought and feeling, which we call ego. This imperative to awaken the deeper dimension of our own being, the field of awareness beyond ego, is expressed in Vayikra 19:2: קְדֹשִׁ֣ים תִּהְי֑וּ כִּ֣י קָד֔וֹשׁ אֲנִ֖י יְהֹ–וָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶֽם׃ A straight translation would be: Holy you shall be, for I, Hashem, your God, am holy. But on a deeper level, קְדֹשִׁ֣ים תִּהְי֑וּ – “holy, be” can mean: Recognize the dimension of the sacred through simply Being. Why? כִּ֣י קָד֔וֹשׁ אֲנִ֖י – because the “I” is holy! Meaning: יְהֹ–וָ֥ה אֱלֹהֵיכֶֽם – the Divine is not something separate; It is your own deepest nature. How do we do this? We are told in the most well-known line in the Torah: : אֶחָֽד שְׁמַ֖ע יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל יְהֹ–וָ֥ה אֱלֹ–הֵ֖ינוּ יְהֹ–וָ֥ה Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Ekhad. Sh’ma שְׁמַע – Be aware, and through this act of Presence, know that Hashemיְהֹ–וָה – Existence, Reality, Being itself, is אֱלֹ–הֵ֖ינוּ, – not separate from our own innermost being. And finally, אֶחָֽד יְהֹ–וָה – there is only One Reality, and nothing is separate from That. And this brings us to our third principle: unifying the external with the internal, unifying Doing with Being. Through this we affirm: that which we call the Divine, the underlying Oneness of all of it, is not some remote deity, but is fully accessible to everyone, right now, in the present moment, simply by opening to It. The light and the dark, the wisdom and the ignorance, the justice and the process of meeting injustice with consciousness, all of it is God, and we can know that for ourselves through the cultivation of Presence and practicing Presence through meditation… וְיָדַעְתָּ֣ הַיּ֗וֹם – Know today, meaning be present – וַהֲשֵׁבֹתָ֮ אֶל־לְבָבֶ֒ךָ֒ return to your heart – meaning, return to that basic quality of love and benevolence that arises from your essence, the vast space of consciousness itself, כִּ֤י יְהֹ–וָה֙ ה֣וּא הָֽאֱלֹ–הִ֔ים – that Existence Itself is God, בַּשָּׁמַ֣יִם מִמַּ֔עַל – in the heavens above, meaning: in the vast spaciousness of consciousness that you are, וְעַל־הָאָ֖רֶץ מִתָּ֑חַת – and on the earth below, meaning: within the earthly experience of your physical body, אֵ֖ין עֽוֹד, there is nothing else, there is only God. These three principles: first, to let our actions be benevolent and to do good in the world; second, to awaken as the deepest level of our being, the vast field of awareness beyond ego; and third, to recognize that the Oneness of Being, that which we call Hashem, is ever before us, as us, intimately present – these three principles can guide us on a path of teshuvah, a path of returning from the endless tendrils of the complexities of our inner and outer worlds, to our Essence. But, spiritual and ethical growth does take practice. The purpose of these Days of Awe is to inspire some positive change in our lives. For some this might be taking better care of yourself through diet or exercise. For some it might be improving the way you are in relationship with others. It might mean shifting the way you relate with work. But the essence of all of these is growing on the level of consciousness, which is why we are here, now. And so, we Return Again, beginning at the beginning, in this moment…
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Parshah Summary – P’shat
Parshat Haazinu (“Listen,” from ozen, “ear”) consists of a song delivered by Moses to the Children of Israel on the last day of his earthly life. Calling heaven and earth as witnesses, Moses warns against the pitfalls of abundance:“Yeshurun grew fat and kicked…he forgot the Divine who created him…” And yet, in the end, God and the Children of Israel will become reconciled. The parshah concludes with God’s instruction to Moses to ascend the summit of Mount Nebo, from which he will behold the Promised Land before dying on the mountain. “For you shall see the land opposite you; but you shall not go there, into the land which I give to the Children of Israel.”
Torah of Awakening | Jewish Meditation Teaching
יְסֹֽבְבֶ֙נְהוּ֙ יְבֹ֣ונְנֵ֔הוּ יִצְּרֶ֖נְהוּ כְּאִישֹׁ֥ון עֵינֹֽו: It surrounded him, imbued him with understanding and preserved him like the pupil of an eye… - Devarim (Deuteronomy) 32:10
From youth until old age, Rabbi Yitzhak Eisik suffered from an ailment which caused him great physical pain. His physician once asked him how he managed to endure such pain without complaining or groaning.
He replied: “You would understand if you thought of the pain as scrubbing and soaking the soul in a strong cleaning solution. In that case, you would try to simply accept the pain with love and not grumble. With practice, you would gain the ability to be with whatever pain was present. Of course, the pain of the moment is all that matters; pain of the past is no longer present, and who would be foolish enough to concern themselves with pain of the future?” This hasidic teaching on the power Presence is not merely a way of getting through physical pain; it is the essential path for coming to know our deepest being. The “pain,” of course, is not just physical pain; physical pain is a metaphor for the unsatisfactory, which is a fundamental feature of human life; we cannot escape it. And yet, it is through developing the skill of Presence, which means learning to not resist the unsatisfactory, that a deeper joy is attained: ט֥וֹב כַּ֖עַס מִשְּׂח֑וֹק כִּֽי־בְרֹ֥עַ פָּנִ֖ים יִ֥יטַב לֵֽב׃ Sorrow is better than laughter, for through sadness arises the goodness of the face the heart. - Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) 7:3 But how is this so? Why should suffering lead to “goodness?” Because acceptance is a function of our essential being, prior to getting bound up in thoughts and feelings of resistance, and we cannot practice acceptance without having something to resist… ט֥וֹב כַּ֖עַס מִשְּׂח֑וֹק – Sorrow is better than laughter… The more we practice this art of being awareness, rather than being the activity of thought and feeling, the more our thoughts and feelings come to reflect that openness; this is meditation. And the more our thoughts and feelings reflect that openness, the more we can recognize the transitory nature of suffering, letting pain come, and also letting it go, whether it be physical pain or the deeper emotional pain. And from this deep allowing, the quality of That which allows, what we might call our Diving nature, can blossom. כִּֽי־בְרֹ֥עַ פָּנִ֖ים יִ֥יטַב לֵֽב׃ – … for through sadness arises the goodness of the face the heart. How do we do this? יְסֹֽבְבֶ֙נְהוּ֙ It surrounded… “Surround” the fullness of your experience, right now, with consciousness; let your awareness connect with everything that arises in your field of perception, without pushing anything away. יְבֹ֣ונְנֵ֔הו – imbue with understanding… Understand that everything you perceive – from sensory impressions, to emotional feelings, to thoughts – are all arising within the field of consciousness, and literally are consciousness; everything we experience are nothing but different forms of the Same Thing… יִצְּרֶ֖נְהוּ כְּאִישֹׁ֥ון עֵינֹֽו: –…and preserved him like the pupil of an eye. Just as the pupil of an eye is a simple opening through which light can flow, so too the full spectrum of Reality as you experience it now flows through this open field of awareness, and you are this field. Return yourself repeatedly to knowing that you are consciousness, that you are essentially an open space, beyond and infinitely more vast than all thoughts and feelings; this is the secret of Renewal through which we can Return Again, back to the beginning and root of experience; this is the Path of א Alef.
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