fighting the good fight every day

It is written in the Talmud that a person’s yetzer harah - their self-sabotaging, negative-perspective, self-defeating parts - rise up against them EVERY DAY and try to KILL THEM. (Translation: every day your yezter will try to bring you down. Even if you had a great day yesterday. Even if you overcome it yesterday. It will try to distract you from living by your values and doing good and staying afloat.) And, the Talmud continues, if the Holy One didn’t come to a person’s aid, then the yetzer would be victorious.

So, what to do? From the house of Rabbi Yishmael they said: “If you run into that punk (literal translation) then drag it to the house of learning. If the yetzer is a stone it will melt. If it is iron it will shatter.”

In other words - and this is not just my reading, it is based in our amazing tradition - the yetzer is coming at you every day, and the way to fight it is to learn Torah every day.

I am sure that many of you learn Torah every day. Awesome. And in addition to that I am committing to writing and sharing a short piece of Torah every day in this blog-space. Something that inspires me and fortifies me gives me clarity and purpose and energy. And it will be short because life is short. And I hope it helps.

Obviously this is not meant to be annoying or to clog up your email. We all sign up to receive so many things so often because it seems wise and then we stop for whatever reason. No offense taken if this is not for you for now.

fighting the good fight every day

It is written in the Talmud that a person’s yetzer harah - their self-sabotaging, negative-perspective, self-defeating parts - rise up against them EVERY DAY and try to KILL THEM. (Translation: every day your yezter will try to bring you down. Even if you had a great day yesterday. Even if you overcome it yesterday. It will try to distract you from living by your values and doing good and staying afloat.) And, the Talmud continues, if the Holy One didn’t come to a person’s aid, then the yetzer would be victorious.

So, what to do? From the house of Rabbi Yishmael they said: “If you run into that punk (literal translation) then drag it to the house of learning. If the yetzer is a stone it will melt. If it is iron it will shatter.”

In other words - and this is not just my reading, it is based in our amazing tradition - the yetzer is coming at you every day, and the way to fight it is to learn Torah every day.

I am sure that many of you learn Torah every day. Awesome. And in addition to that I am committing to writing and sharing a short piece of Torah every day in this blog-space. Something that inspires me and fortifies me gives me clarity and purpose and energy. And it will be short because life is short. And I hope it helps.

Obviously this is not meant to be annoying or to clog up your email. We all sign up to receive so many things so often because it seems wise and then we stop for whatever reason. No offense taken if this is not for you for now.

Space-makers

In this and future pieces, I would like to describe and demonstrate a way of learning the writings of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, specifically his magnum opus, Likutei Moharan. This approach is called b’iyun, which implies learning in depth. Specifically, learning Rebbe Nachman b’iyun implies following the trail of the references that he brings and studying them fully, complete with common (and even not-common) commentaries on those references. In doing so, a person is likely to find layers and layers of meaning, rich and complex readings of those sources, and a fuller picture of what it is that Rebbe Nachman was attempting to communicate. 

For example, if Rebbe Nachman refers to a verse in Exodus, a person might look up the verse and read the entire chapter in which that verse occurs, in addition to Rashi and Ramban and other commentaries on that passage, plus notable passages in the Talmud, Midrash, and Zohar relating to that passage. It clearly takes a lot of time. It is often quite rewarding. All the cool Breslovers do it. 

I am still experimenting with ways to present this material. One way is to simply provide the additional sources pertaining to the references he brings. I will be using another way: to provide one or two sources related to the references he brings, along with a commentary of my own relating to how these sources fit together. In addition, I will tell you what it means to me and how it moves me and makes want to holler.

With that, you should know that this is by far not even close to some sort of definitive reading of the original text or the network of additional sources that surround it. 

Rebbe Nachman taught, in Lesson 49 of the first section of Likutei Moharan:

כִּי קֹדֶם הַבְּרִיאָה הָיָה אוֹר הַקָּדוֹשׁ־בָּרוּךְ־הוּא אֵין סוֹף,

Before the creation, the Light of the Holy One was ein sof (infinite, without end or limit)

וְרָצָה הַקָּדוֹשׁ־בָּרוּךְ־הוּא שֶׁיִּתְגַּלֶּה מַלְכוּתוֹ, וְאֵין מֶלֶךְ בְּלֹא עָם, וְהֻצְרַךְ לִבְרֹא בְּנֵי אָדָם, שֶׁיְּקַבְּלוּ עֹל מַלְכוּתוֹ.

But the Holy One wanted His Malkhut (Kingship) to be revealed, and there can be no king without a nation. Thus, God was required to create human beings who would accept the yoke of God’s Kingship.

וְהִתְגַּלּוּת מַלְכוּתוֹ אִי אֶפְשָׁר לְהַשִּׂיג אֶלָּא עַל־יְדֵי הַמִּדּוֹת, שֶׁעַל־יְדֵי הַמִּדּוֹת מַשִּׂיגִין אֱלֹקוּתוֹ, וְיוֹדְעִין שֶׁיֵּשׁ אָדוֹן מוֹשֵׁל וּמַנְהִיג. וְצִמְצֵם אֶת הָאוֹר אֵין סוֹף לַצְּדָדִין, וְנִשְׁאַר חָלָל פָּנוּי, וּבְתוֹךְ הֶחָלָל הַפָּנוּי בָּרָא הָעוֹלָמוֹת (כמבואר בע"ח בתחילתו בהיכל א ענף ג), וְהֵן הֵן מִדּוֹתָיו.

Yet it is impossible to perceive a revelation of God’s Malkhut except through the measurable attributes. Through the attributes we perceive God’s Godliness and know that there is a Lord, a Ruler, and an Authority. God thus contracted the Light of Ein Sof (the Infinite One) to the sides, leaving an emptied space. And within this Chalal Hapanuy (Hollowed or Vacated Space) God created the worlds, which are themselves the measurable attributes.

RGG:

In this lesson, among others, Rebbe Nachman refers to R’ Yitzhak Luria (a.k.a. the Ari)’s description of the beginning of a world that is, as it were, separate from, or independent of, God’s obvious Presence. In this telling, God “lacked” only one thing - to be recognized and served as King by beings who could also choose otherwise. Of course, God could simply overwhelm those beings with clear and obvious revelations of God’s God-ness, but that would not achieve the goal that those beings choose to recognize and accept God’s Godliness freely. As such, God was “forced” to make a space in which God’s Presence would not be obvious, and this space would be the field of interaction and relationship in which people could choose to recognize God and serve God. 

As I write this, I already sense the risk that this sounds dry and technical. Not that all material must presented with great fanfare and exciting words and intriguing titles, but I do know that the balance between precision and excitement often tips in one direction or the other. But please know that the process being described here is alive, and it matters, and it is in play at every moment. We are perpetually challenged, and invited, to see and find meaning and growth, relationship and devotion, through everything that happens to us and through us and with us in this Empty Space. The problem, it seems, is that we are likely to be generally underwhelmed. We don’t see fireworks (or plagues, or miracles). Rather, we see ordinary, pedestrian events and occurrences, and we will need to choose to also see this object or event or occurrence as being connected to the Divine. That’s because God’s Presence within them seems partial, small, or frustrating.

Such is the price of God’s desire to be known and encountered in the pedestrian, ordinary world. 

The work, as we will see, is to approach such events and occurrences with a positive and open mind, reminding ourselves that this, too, is an opportunity to encounter and serve God. Once we have that thought in mind, and approach the situation accordingly, then those events and occurrences become alive and infused with a deeper saturation of Divinity than they were before - or, that deeper saturation of Divinity becomes apparent. So it turns out that our willingness to make it into an encounter makes it into an encounter. 

Rebbe Nachman Continues:

וְהַלֵּב הוּא הַצַּיָּר שֶׁל הַמִּדּוֹת, הַיְנוּ הַחָכְמָה שֶׁבַּלֵּב, כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב (שמות ל״א:ו׳): וּבְלֵב כָּל חֲכַם לֵב וְכוּ'. 

And the heart is that which forms the measurable attributes - specifically, wisdom in the heart, as is written, “And in the heart of every wise-hearted person etc.” (Exodus 31:6)

RGG:

The meaning, depth, and potential contained within these nodes of encounter - these measurable attributes - is not simply a function of our desire for them to be meaningful. In fact, they are designed by God to facilitate a certain kind of encounter (and it may well be that, within that encounter, there is a huge or infinite number of possible outcomes).

Here we have a description of the mechanism by which these nodes of encounter are created. Meaning, God might decide that God wishes to encounter me through, say, a flat tire or a broken washing machine. Ordinarily these are not places in which the flames of my religious fervor are likely to be roused, but, just the same, I manage to pry my closed heart open and to remember this, too, is an opportunity to encounter and serve God. 

But not all flat tires are the same, and not all broken washing machines are the same. Where was I going? Who was with me? What was I thinking at the time? What was I trying to wash? When was the lat time I got a flat tire? What’s in your wallet? The exact details of this seemingly unfortunate event are created by God through God’s heart. Or, more specifically, through the wisdom-chochmah that is in the heart. 

Ordinarily the heart is associated with a certain function of mind-consciousness called binah. Chochmah, which is not binah, refers to abstract facts and realities - the ‘wisdoms’ include math and physics. It carries a sense of how things work, or ought to work, in an ideal world. Binah, on the other hand, implies an openness and sensitivity to the reality on the ground. It is an ability to perceive and respond to the uniqueness of the moment, rather than simply to implement eternal and objective principles to this moment, as if this moment were the same as all other moments. So the “chochmah in the heart” implies an interaction between the two - an ability to apply eternal and objective concepts and truths within unique situations. That God designs these nodes of encounter through the “wisdom of the heart” implies sensitivity to the specific moment.

Wisdom-chochmah in the heart is indeed a strange formulation. But even stranger is the reference that Rebbe Nachman uses - and this is where iyun begins. The reference made here is to the construction of the Mishkan, the traveling wilderness Temple that the Israelites used as they traveled to the land of Israel. 

Here is the section of the Torah in which this verse occurs. 

א וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְהוָ֖ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר׃

ב רְאֵ֖ה קָרָ֣אתִֽי בְשֵׁ֑ם בְּצַלְאֵ֛ל בֶּן־אוּרִ֥י בֶן־ח֖וּר לְמַטֵּ֥ה יְהוּדָֽה׃

ג וָאֲמַלֵּ֥א אֹת֖וֹ ר֣וּחַ אֱלֹהִ֑ים בְּחָכְמָ֛ה וּבִתְבוּנָ֥ה וּבְדַ֖עַת וּבְכָל־מְלָאכָֽה׃

ד לַחְשֹׁ֖ב מַחֲשָׁבֹ֑ת לַעֲשׂ֛וֹת בַּזָּהָ֥ב וּבַכֶּ֖סֶף וּבַנְּחֹֽשֶׁת׃

ה וּבַחֲרֹ֥שֶׁת אֶ֛בֶן לְמַלֹּ֖את וּבַחֲרֹ֣שֶׁת עֵ֑ץ לַעֲשׂ֖וֹת בְּכָל־מְלָאכָֽה׃

ו וַאֲנִ֞י הִנֵּ֧ה נָתַ֣תִּי אִתּ֗וֹ אֵ֣ת אָהֳלִיאָ֞ב בֶּן־אֲחִֽיסָמָךְ֙ לְמַטֵּה־דָ֔ן וּבְלֵ֥ב כָּל־חֲכַם־לֵ֖ב נָתַ֣תִּי חָכְמָ֑ה וְעָשׂ֕וּ אֵ֖ת כָּל־אֲשֶׁ֥ר צִוִּיתִֽךָ׃

ז אֵ֣ת ׀ אֹ֣הֶל מוֹעֵ֗ד וְאֶת־הָֽאָרֹן֙ לָֽעֵדֻ֔ת וְאֶת־הַכַּפֹּ֖רֶת אֲשֶׁ֣ר עָלָ֑יו וְאֵ֖ת כָּל־כְּלֵ֥י הָאֹֽהֶל׃

 And in English:

1 The LORD spoke to Moses:

2 See, I have singled out by name Bezalel son of Uri son of Hur, of the tribe of Yehudah.

3 I have endowed him with a divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft;

4 to make designs for work in gold, silver, and copper,

5 to cut stones for setting and to carve wood—to work in every kind of craft.

6 Moreover, I have assigned to him Oholiab son of Ahisamach, of the tribe of Dan; and in the heart of every wise-hearted person I have given wisdom, that they may make everything that I have commanded you:

7 the Tent of Meeting, the Ark for the Pact and the cover upon it, and all the furnishings of the Tent;

What’s remarkable about this reference is that the Mishkan is the space we make for God! Amidst a lesson that is speaking of the space that God makes for us is a reference to the space we make for God! Hopefully without jumping the gun, it is remarkable that, yes, God makes space in God’s self for this Other, this world of ours. And now, here we are, quite likely full of ourselves and our narratives and stories about what is happening, and we need to carve our some space within that story to make room for God. That is something of what was happening in the Mishkan. 

Not only that: Rebbe Nachman uses this verse to describe the tools - the wisdom in the heart - that God uses! These two spaces are made in the same way. We share a craft with God - the craft of space-making. We must learn how to use the “wisdom in the heart” to create a space in which we can serve God, just as God uses this tool to create a space in which we can serve God. The same combination of wisdom and sensitivity will be called for. 

The Mishkan-system consists of two primary components: the mishkan itself which is the space-structure, and the keilim - vessels that go inside the mishkan. 

Now consider a passage in the Talmud Berachot 55a, which actually contains the line Rebbe Nachman quoted from Exodus 31:

[וידבר] ה' אל משה לאמר ראה קראתי בשם בצלאל וגו' אמר רבי יצחק אין מעמידין פרנס על הצבור אלא אם כן נמלכים בצבור שנאמר ראו קרא ה' בשם בצלאל אמר לו הקדוש ברוך הוא למשה משה הגון עליך בצלאל אמר לו רבונו של עולם אם לפניך הגון לפני לא כל שכן אמר לו אף על פי כן לך אמור להם הלך ואמר להם לישראל הגון עליכם בצלאל אמרו לו אם לפני הקדוש ברוך הוא ולפניך הוא הגון לפנינו לא כל שכן אמר רבי שמואל בר נחמני אמר רבי יונתן בצלאל על שם חכמתו נקרא בשעה שאמר לו הקדוש ברוך הוא למשה לך אמור לו לבצלאל עשה לי משכן ארון וכלים הלך משה והפך ואמר לו עשה ארון וכלים ומשכן אמר לו משה רבינו מנהגו של עולם אדם בונה בית ואחר כך מכניס לתוכו כלים ואתה אומר עשה לי ארון וכלים ומשכן כלים שאני עושה להיכן אכניסם שמא כך אמר לך הקדוש ברוך הוא עשה משכן ארון וכלים אמר לו שמא בצל אל היית וידעת אמר רב יהודה אמר רב יודע היה בצלאל לצרף אותיות שנבראו בהן שמים וארץ כתיב הכא וימלא אתו רוח אלהים בחכמה ובתבונה ובדעת וכתיב התם ה' בחכמה יסד ארץ כונן שמים בתבונה וכתיב בדעתו תהומות נבקעו אמר רבי יוחנן אין הקדוש ברוך הוא נותן חכמה אלא למי שיש בו חכמה שנאמר יהב חכמתא לחכימין ומנדעא לידעי בינה שמע רב תחליפא בר מערבא ואמרה קמיה דרבי אבהו אמר ליה אתון מהתם מתניתו לה אנן מהכא מתנינן לה דכתיב ובלב כל חכם לב נתתי חכמה:

Rabbi Yitzḥak said: One may only appoint a leader over a community if he consults with the community and they agree to the appointment, as it is stated: “And Moses said unto the children of Israel: See, the Lord has called by name Bezalel, son of Uri, son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah” (Exodus 35:30). The Lord said to Moses: Moses, is Bezalel a suitable appointment in your eyes? Moses said to Him: Master of the universe, if he is a suitable appointment in Your eyes, then all the more so in my eyes. The Holy One, Blessed be He, said to him: Nevertheless, go and tell Israel and ask their opinion. Moses went and said to Israel: Is Bezalel suitable in your eyes? They said to him: If he is suitable in the eyes of the Holy One, Blessed be He, and in your eyes, all the more so he is suitable in our eyes.  Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥmani said that Rabbi Yonatan said: Bezalel was called by that name on account of his wisdom. When the Holy One, Blessed be He, said to Moses: Go say to Bezalel, “Make a tabernacle, an ark, and vessels” (see Exodus 31:7–11), Moses went and reversed the order and told Bezalel: “Make an ark, and vessels, and a tabernacle” (see Exodus 25–26). He said to Moses: Moses, our teacher, the standard practice throughout the world is that a person builds a house and only afterward places the vessels in the house, and you say to me: Make an ark, and vessels, and a tabernacle. If I do so in the order you have commanded, the vessels that I make, where shall I put them? Perhaps God told you the following: “Make a tabernacle, ark, and vessels” (see Exodus 36). Moses said to Bezalel: Perhaps you were in God’s shadow [betzel El], and you knew precisely what He said. You intuited God’s commands just as He stated them, as if you were there. 13 Rav Yehuda said that Rav said: Bezalel knew how to join the letters with which heaven and earth were created. From where do we derive this? It is written here in praise of Bezalel: “And I have filled him with the spirit of God, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship” (Exodus 31:3); and it is written there with regard to creation of heaven and earth: “The Lord, by wisdom, founded the earth; by understanding He established the heavens” (Proverbs 3:19), and it is written: “By His knowledge the depths were broken up and the skies drop down the dew” (Proverbs 3:20). We see that wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, the qualities with which the heavens and earth were created, are all found in Bezalel. 14 On a similar note, Rabbi Yoḥanan said: The Holy One, Blessed be He, only grants wisdom to one who already possesses wisdom, as it is stated: “He gives wisdom unto the wise, and knowledge to they who know understanding” (Daniel 2:21). Rav Taḥalifa, from the West, Eretz Yisrael, heard this and repeated it before Rabbi Abbahu. Rabbi Abbahu said to him: You learned proof for this idea from there; we learn it from here: As it is written in praise of the builders of the Tabernacle: “And in the hearts of all who are wise-hearted I have placed wisdom” (Exodus 31:6).

Note, in the discussion of appointing a leader, the imagery of a decision or commitment that has to be made below, in a mundane and relatively uninformed situation, before some insight comes from above (God’s approval). 

Additionally, in light of the lesson Rebbe Nachman is teaching so far, this passage in the Talmud becomes a meditation on order: which goes first? Recall that this lesson is concerned with question of whether the move we make - realizing that “I can serve God here” - precedes the insight - “Now I see how God is manifest here.” What comes first - making a space for God (Mishkan) or seeing the light of God (the vessels)? 

That question is mimicked in this passage in the Talmud, as explained by the talmud commentary called Ben Yehoyada:

בן יהוידע:  מקשים איך יאמר להפך, ונראה לי בס"ד כי משה רבינו עליו השלום ראה והשיג סוד ארון ושלחן ומנורה שהם פנמיים שרומזים לאורות עליונים תחלה, ואחר כך ראה והשיג סוד גוף המשכן שהוא קטן וחיצוני להם, כי כן סדר ההשגה והראיה, והוא שמע מהקב"ה שאמר לו בריש תרומה [שמות כ"ה ט'] ככל אשר אנכי מראה אותך את תבנית המשכן ואת תבנית כל כליו וכן תעשו, ויש לפרש וכן תעשו קאי ארישא דקרא, והכי קא"ל כפי הראיה האלהית הסודית אשר אני מראה אותך במשכן וכליו כן תעשו כסדר הזה, ולפי זה צריך לעשות תחלה הכלים העליונים שהם ארון ושולחן ומנורה שרומזים לאורות העליונים, ואחר כך גוף המשכן, כי ההשגה וראיה הסודית שראה משה רבינו עליו השלום היתה של אלו תחלה, ולכן משה רבינו עליו השלום אמר לו עשה ארון וכלים ומשכן, שפירש דבריו יתברך על פי אופן הנזכר, אך באמת דבריו יתברך יש בהם פירוש אחר, דקאי וכן תעשו על סוף הפסוק, שהזכיר המשכן קודם באומרו את תבנית המשכן ואת תבנית כל כליו, וכן תעשו על פי הסדר הזה שאני מזכיר אותם עתה המשכן תחלה ואחר כך הכלים,  וזה הפירוש השיגו בצלאל מחמת הטעם שראה בהכריח, כלים שאני עושה להיכן אכנסם, ומאת ה' היתה זאת שיתעלם פירוש זה תחלה מן משה רבינו עליו השלום כדי שיזכה בו בצלאל העוסק במלאכת הקודש

… it seems to me that Moshe, our teacher, peace be upon him, first saw and understood the secret (mystical meaning) of the Ark, the table, the Candelabrum, that they are inner, that they hint to Supernal Lights, and afterward he saw and understood the secret of the body of the mishkan, which is small and external to the vessels. Moshe saw that this is the proper order of realization and seeing, and he heard from the Holy One Who said to him (Ex. 25:9] “Like everything I am showing you, the plan of the mishkan and the plan of all its vessels - so shall you do.”…. And this is what he was saying to him: “According to the Divine, secret vision that I am showing you of the mishkan and its vessels, so shall you do, in that order.” According to this, he ought to first make the Supernal vessels, which are the Ark and the Table and Candelabrum, which hint to Supernal Lights, and afterward the body of the Mishkan, for Moshe’s vision was in that order. So Moshe told Bezalel to make the vessels and the Mishkan, “and so shall you do according to this order that I am describing.”  But the truth is there is another explanation of God’s words - “and so shall you do” apply to the end of the verse, which first mentions the mishkan and then mentions the vessels… and Bezalel grasped this second meaning because he saw that it must be so. “These vessels that I am making - where will I put them??!” And this was by God’s design that this understanding of the verse be hidden from Moshe so that Bezalel, who was tasked with making the mishkan, 

Ben Yehoyada calls attention to the deeper implications of the question of order. It seems that Moshe can see the light (represented by the vessels). Metaphorically, he sees the already-available relationship with God. He just needs to make a context in which to have that relationship. Us? We don’t see the light so good. But this passage in the Talmud, and Rebbe Nachman by bringing this passage in the Talmud, is telling us that, actually, the process works in reverse. We first have to create the context, and the the light will become apparent. If we build it they will come. 

There is so much more here than I have described. Make your own connections. Spend some time with that passage in the Talmud and consider how it works with Rebbe Nachman’s teaching. Look at them as commentaries on each other. Enjoy.

Raising the Standard(s)

Neo: Well, that didn’t go so well.

Morpheus: Are you certain the Oracle didn’t say anything else?

Neo: Yes.

Trinity: Maybe we did something wrong.

Neo: Or didn’t do something.

Morpheus: No, what happened happened and couldn’t have happened any other way.

Neo: How do you know?

Morpheus: We are still alive.

Well, that’s a pretty low bar, no? “We are still alive” is not the usual standard we use for, say, how a meeting went. “Honey, how was shopping today?” “Well, I’m still alive.” “Great. Did you get potatoes like I asked you to?”

Nor is “we are still alive” a level of success that should be discounted. It definitely has its place among the standards we use to assess success and well-being. There are, of course, many others - “We really connected!” “Best presentation of my life!” “I really felt it for the first time.” “I know that she heard me.” But “I’m still alive” also has its place, for sure. As does, “Well, I showed up” and “It wasn’t completely devastating” and “at least I said the words.” 

Different standards are in play at different times. Sometimes even the same activity has different standards at different times. The trick is to know which one to use, and when. Because the simple fact is that the course of our lives will take us to the heights of the mundane and to the depths of the profound, and our own inner capacities will often vacillate between deep engagement and minimal presence, and every stop along the way calls upon us to recognize its unique set of opportunities and challenges, and to understand our experience accordingly. This would take a clear and open mind that is nimble enough to say, “What is happening here?”

Superimposing the standards of the sublime onto the world of the mundane will yield disappointment, disillusionment, disconnection, disempowerment, and worse. Superimposing the standards of the mundane onto the sublime can be just as tricky.

As challenging as it is, we are asked to remain attuned to the landscape of the encounter in which we find ourselves, as well as our own inner landscape, in hopes of aligning them as closely as possible. 

How we engage in prayer is certainly one kind of opportunity; whether we are considerate to the other people in the room (or Zoom) is another. How we eat, dress, buy, sell, and play racquetball - all of these are part of the story. When they write of your noble deeds, they will include (and perhaps even emphasize) those parts of the story as well. I hope they don’t say about me that I davened with a lot of energy but couldn’t seem to find any energy at all when I was talking to the mailman. Regardless of the activity, a certain degree of presence, openness, alertness, humility, wonder, and respect can always be expected.  

Who demonstrates this more than Avraham? His great, noble journey, replete with dynamic visions, also includes detours through Egypt, literal battle, and difficult conversations with his ambitious nephew. His mythical marriage to Sarah includes allowing her to be taken into a harem and then a confusing second marriage to Hagar, which brought a substantial amount of strife. (Strife also calls for a presence, openness, alertness, humility, wonder and respect, as strife also provides its own opportunities and has its own standards.) And Avraham’s mission to initiate the building of the Jewish Nation also included conversations over who stole the wells. His journey was not a straight highway to the sublime. There were plenty of apparent “detours.”

But Avraham does not think of these detours as detours. He knows - and he models for us - that each of them its own opportunity, has its own standards of connection and sanctification, and each offers its own spoils. 

Consider Avraham and Sarah’s journey to Egypt. Soon after their arrival in the land of Israel, the land of Israel was beset with famine, and they needed to move southward to Egypt (which is always the destination when there is a famine). While most people would complain, or even question God’s providence, Avraham continues to step forward. He knows this is part of it. And what is the work? So many answers to this question are possible. One is that, even amidst this troubling story (wherein Sarah, his wife, is taken into Pharaoh’s harem) Avraham does something absolutely essential: he makes sure that he and Sarah are on the same page. He has a plan, but he makes sure she is on board with it. “Please say that you are my sister…” This is very instructive for moments when we are about to enter into something murky or difficult - make sure you are connected to the people who matter, and whose support you need, as things get hard. This is even more difficult and more true because people tend to withdraw into themselves specifically at times when they need support the most. So that becomes the standard. Not, “Did you have a nice, spiritual experience on Egypt?” but, rather, “Were you connected to the people you needed to be connected to?” 

Consider Avraham’s conversation with his nephew, Lot. Both of them have huge flocks and herds, and it is becoming increasingly essential that they communicate about space for grazing. In fact, Avraham must separate from Lot because Lot’s shepherds have started to act inappropriately. Avraham knows that how we comports himself in this conversation is essential and important like everything else he does. How do you have that conversation? What would success look like? It probably won’t end in high-fives. Likely he won’t report that the conversation with Lot was amazing or inspiring. But success might mean that Lot knows that he is loved, and that Avraham remains connected to him, no matter what happens. If he came away from conversation feeling deep and spiritual and connected but had not succeeded in establishing those boundaries as well as that continued sense of connection, that would be a failure. And that becomes a model for us when we need to have hard conversations and set firmer boundaries. The standard: “Did you succeed in communicating those boundaries but still let them know you are with them and love them?”

Of course, Avraham also had intense God-moments. He built three altars and “called out in the name of God” in this parsha alone. And at those moments, the standard may well be “did you, really, deeply, truly call out in the name of God?” That may not be a moment of “did you make sure you feel connected to your partner?” 

Having the right standard within the wide variety of soul-evoking moments is essential. It requires clarity, flexibility, and confidence. Thankfully, our biblical ancestors provide us with plenty of guidance along the way. 




Wounded Healer

Talk has turned toward the eventual return to the normal - whenever that will be. We anxiously anticipate the opportunity to, like, go out and, like, see people and stuff, and maybe daven together or go see a movie. Shop without fear of infecting people. etc.

And amidst the very real pain, this time has granted us an (over)abundance of time to observe the systems and patterns that constitute our local realities. Without the usual distractions, and with the constant repetition of days, we see all too clearly who we are as people, how we function in relationship, what happens when we hold on to bad moods, how we reach for distractions when things get too intense, what moves us, what stimulates us, etc. Many of us have seen the nature and quantity of stuff that has accumulated in our homes over the years. We get a glimpse of how we manage time. Money. Space. We now know more about who and what we miss and don’t miss. We now likely recognize that there is a difference between essential and non-essential goods. We see how irrelevant the opinions of many celebrities are. 

Many of us are also looking at larger scales - how our choice of news sources has real effect in our lives and the lives of others. How we think about people with whom we disagree. How different models of leadership impact the health and well-being of the leaders’ constituents. How countries do and don’t cooperate to manage common threats. How economic systems interact with the people who operate within them. How commerce pushes people to make difficult choices between health and earning a living. How the state of the environment has been impacted by collective human behaviors. 

More startling and important and foundational than any particular observation we might have been granted is the bare realization that all of them are based upon choices. Every pattern that we are now seeing features a choice, made by us or by someone else. Someone is choosing. And someone is affected by those choices.

As we prepare for our eventual release back into the wild, we confront the reality that all of these - our political and economic choices, our individual and collective habits of consumption, our actions and our attitudes - actually operate as variables. If they were done differently, then things would be different. Choices are being made, and different choices could be made, with different outcomes. 

Choices are being made. And different choices could be made. 

And as we tentatively consider thinking about the possibility of maybe eventually returning to “normal”, many of us are committed to not returning to “normal.” We want to choose differently. On the smallest scales, we are now more aware that regular exercise is good, and diet matters, and schedule matters, and relationships matter, and we must choose to invest more in those aspects of our lives than we did B.C. (before corona). 

And on the largest scales, some of us are hoping that big change is at hand, with governments far more deeply invested in the well-being of their citizens, with collective worldwide cooperation on issues that affect us all, like pandemics and the health of the environment. We are hoping that people with power will make different choices. We might even choose to do something about it. 

But what’s going to make it so we don’t just fall back into old patterns? Consider the reentry that is is choreographed in this week’s parshiot - Tazria/Metzorah. A person has sinned - ostensibly through unnecessarily speaking badly of others - and they have been kicked out of the community. Having seen the error of their ways, they have gone through their teshuva process and are ready to re-enter the community from which they were expelled. This is a long process, with several stages and a startling array of offerings and rituals, many of which mimic other offerings and rituals. The rituals are deep and rich: shaving the whole body; waiting outside the tent for a week; shaving again; blood-initiation. But there is one ritual that is unique to this particular situation. In this sequence, two birds are taken up. One bird is killed. The other bird is dipped into the blood of the first bird and then set free. 

This is the Torah’s representation of the person who sinned: choices were made. People were hurt. You have another chance. Choose well. And know that momentum and force of habit are not on your side.

A bird covered in blood is easy prey. Any half-decent predator could smell it a mile away. And this serves well as a stand-in for the slanderer who wishes to reenter the community that includes people he has slandered. How do you not fall back into the same pattern? The only way in which old patterns and bad choices can help us make better choices in the future is to carry a reminder of their dangers everywhere we go. 

Like that bird, we are given another chance, but we - as individuals and as communities and societies and nations - know the odds are stacked against us. We know where we have been. We know that damage has been done. We know something else is possible, but it will require vigilance and conscious defiance on engrained habits. 

A constant vantagepoint overlooking a changing world

Let’s suppose that, every morning, you wake up at the break of dawn. You don your robe and slippers and make yourself some coffee. When it is ready, you pour it into your favorite mug and stand by the bay window that looks out on your back yard. Cherishing those few moments of silence before the kids get up, you have a chance to watch the world fill with color and sound and come to life. 

Now, imagine that, at the end of each lunar month, you fold up your house and everything in it. The bay window, the bed, the coffee maker, the mug - everything is disconnected from everything else and loaded onto a truck. You drive for a day or two in some direction, and then you stop. You unload your bay window and your bed and your coffee maker and your mug, and then you put them all together in the exact same way. 

The next day, you wake up at the break of dawn. You don your robe and slipper and make yourself some coffee. When it is ready, you pour it into your favorite mug and stand by the bay window that looks out on new your back yard. Cherishing those few moments of silence before the kids get up, you have a chance to watch the world fill with color and sound and come to life. 

And then one time, your drive takes you to a place that is not so pretty. The scene that unfolds as the sun rises is not nearly so pleasant - maybe the back yard is strewn with empty bottles, and someone has graffitied something hateful on the wall. Just the same, you watch the world fill with color and sound and come to life. Somehow, the daily ritual provides you with a way to take it in, to process what you see, and to consider how you will move forward.

This is how I view the mishkan. The mishkan was built as a wandering Temple that moved as the Jews moved through the wilderness. It shared many features with the Temple that would ultimately be built in Jerusalem - a menorah and an Ark, altars - but it differed in one essential way: it was designed to be dissembled and moved. The boards that constituted its walls were easily separated from one another; it’s primary furnishings were fitted with rings into which poles were inserted and the object was lifted and carried; the loops and hooks that connected the massive tapestries that covered the mishkan could easily be undone. 

The mishkan was dissembled and reassembled at least 42 times in the wilderness, as the Jews moved from Sinai to Israel. The trips between those 42 encampments may have been uneventful, like moving from one nice Boston suburb to another. But just as often, all hell breaks loose. A mass rebellion occurs; there is a panic over perceived lack of water; a rock is stricken in anger; the spies return; Miriam dies; the people demand meat and God plagues them. Each time something like this happens, the mishkan is once again reassembled, the candles are lit, the incense is burned, the daily offerings are offered. 

What is the experience of lighting the candles when one has moved from one suburb to another? Perhaps not so dramatically different. And what is the experience of lighting the candles when one is looking out on a back yard strewn with empty bottles, and someone has graffitied something hateful on the wall? Perhaps at such a time one feels the darkness so deeply that they are sick to their stomach, and they know with a deep knowing that the light they bring is the light that the world needs in order to survive for one more day.

Such is the nature of a life guided and framed by ritual. A few words of gratitude upon waking, a half-hour of sitting meditation around midday, a blessing over food, a walk in the woods after dinner - all of these work as lattices for our days and weeks and months and years, marking time and pointing inward or outward, reminding us to notice and to open. And they might not impact us so much when we do them - until suddenly they do. Suddenly we are acutely aware of being awake, of clinging to mindfulness like a raft in turbulent seas, of deeply needing that walk, of feeling genuine gratitude for food when food has suddenly become a bit more sparse.

Passover is coming - that odd collection of exotic foods, silly songs, stories told, broken matzahs hidden and found. Woven into the fabric of the “different night” are tales of families struggling to communicate, mysteries tellings of late-night rabbinic jam sessions, recollections of promises made by our Redeemer, mystical math that makes 10 into 50 into 200. Within each of these is the promise of realization, connection, gratitude, growth. And most of the time most of that potential remains latent - until it doesn’t. Suddenly, the hagaddah pops. Each line, each story, each character shakes off the dust and struts its hour upon the stage. 

Perhaps this year is such a year. For many of us, life has been turned inside out or upside down. We may find ourselves confined to tight quarters with family, with little exposure even to our next-door neighbors, with less to distract us than we would like, face to face with our personal and familial patterns, and suddenly, we may say, “Ah! So this is slavery! And I am my own Pharaoh!” And suddenly, the haggadah pops and comes to life and we can see just how much we need it.

Perhaps these scripts, songs, prayers and stories can help us sort out our lives a bit, straighten out our relationships a bit, speak our minds bit, hear each other a bit, see our blessings a bit, and set our course toward next year in Jerusalem.